Atari Force Month: Special Part 2 Review

As the last in a long line of seven-page Hukka stories, the second part of the Atari Force Special probably doesn't merit its own whole post. But screw it, I promised to fill a whole month with this stuff, so I'm wasting a whole day on this story anyway. It'll probably be brief, because there's not an awful lot of material to discuss. But it is the strongest Hukka story, in my opinion, even though it's still not that good. Which raises the question: why the holy hell do they keep making Hukka the focus of these short stories? Who are these for, what purpose do they serve, and what is the appeal of writing them? So I guess it raises like four questions. Let's dive in.

Hukka, hungry and lost and alone in the wilderness, stumbles upon a band of strange, gangly red creatures in the middle of some sort of celebration. They are thrilled to see Hukka, whom they refer to as "mordling." Their speech patterns are similar to Hukka's, broken and simple and often misspelled. They offer Hukka food ("S'fur you, mordling!" and "Eeet! Eeet!") and, once he's had his fill and falls asleep, they declare him ready and carry him away. He wakes on top of a rock that his new friends seem to be using as a platform, as they dance around him giddily. They have fashioned some kind of headpiece for Hukka, and that plus their apparent ceremonial worship makes him suspect that he's been chosen to rule these bizarre red dudes. However, before he can find out for sure, he is replaced: "Wait! Kum c---nu mordling!" The red guys abandon Hukka in favor of the newcomer, a fuzzy blue critter who's kind of shaped like a tooth. Upset at what he thinks is a sudden loss of power, Hukka follows the crowd to see what this new mordling gets. And what he gets is viciously murdered.

Because it turns out the reddies already have a ruler, a large tree that they call "Sheikit." The mordlings, then, are not new leaders but sacrifices, bound and nailed to Sheikit as the brutal finale of this strange ritual. Hukka watches the new mordling suffer this fate, and it understandably terrifies him, so he flees. The red creatures would have been more than happy to kill him, too, but they are not bothered by his escape for very long before yet another "nu mordling" arrives and the cycle begins anew. Hukka, meanwhile, is just as lost and alone as he was at the beginning of the story, only now he's happy for the solitude because it also means safety.

I call this the best Hukka story because, unlike literally all of the other ones, it feels like there is an actual point or moral to this tale. It's not as clear as I'd like it to be, but the weight is there nonetheless. To my mind, the point of this story is not to trust strangers, that people who offer us anything will often if not always want something in return. Cynical, perhaps, but a valid lesson anyway. I can also see the reading that this is about the dangers of religion, since the red guys' behavior could all be interpreted as religious ceremony. If that is what Paul Kupperberg was trying to say with this script, though, he didn't do an obvious or in-depth enough job. Exactly why these beings believe that Sheikit wants or needs mordlings to be killed on its body is never addressed, so whether or not it's truly for religious reasons is unclear at best. Still, there is an obvious ceremonial aspect to what they do, and a definite element of worship when it comes to Sheikit. "Sheikit rools!"

And then there's the idea that, no matter how bad things get, we should always be grateful just to be alive. Again, Kupperberg doesn't hit the mark on this message if it was his goal, but it's still present if you look for it. Hukka is hungry and sad at the start, and so he happily accepts the food given to him without questioning it. At the end, Hukka still doesn't know where he is, and his hunger has returned, but he's no longer upset about it. Instead, he's pleased, his final line being, "Hukka happy!" because he survived what could have been a horrible, fatal experience.

There may well be further viable interpretations of "Food for Thought," but even the three I point out above prove that this is a considerably beefier story than any of the previous Hukka-centric pieces. Typically, his narratives have no real danger and no real consequences. That's not strictly true, but it tends to be the case, and even in the moments where his stories have had a bit more flavor and/or significance, they've never been as full and layered as this. It's not a remarkable or particularly complex story, but it at least makes the case that Hukka has ever deserved to be a protagonist.

Tristan Shane's pencils lend a hand or two, particularly his designs for the creepy red dudes. They look nearly human, but with stretched limbs and enormous mouths that take up more than half of their unnaturally smooth heads. They're almost cute, but also right on the border of immediately terrifying. It makes sense Hukka wouldn't feel threatened by them, but it's no great surprise when they turn out to be the villains, or at any rate the threat of this story, either. It's important for the narrative's success that the red creatures be able to walk that line, and it is Shane's contributions, far more than the stitled language Kupperberg gives them, that allows them to do so.

And Tom Ziuko coloring them in flat, angry reds is a major factor, too. When they're partying, smiling and dancing and feeding Hukka, their coloring adds a brightness to the scene. But in the moment of the reveal of their murderous intentions, it makes them even more menacing. The soft blue used for the mordling that Hukka sees them kill also deepens that effect, and makes its death hit even harder.

I'm not Hukka's biggest fan, because I think he is misused. He has the potential to be a secret observer of hidden things because of his size and curiosity. He could play the role of a kid in any number of hypothetical stories, used to explore age dynamics or childhood psychology because, in essence, that is the intelligence level and personality he possesses. But instead, pretty much every Hukka story, this one included, is about him stumbling into a dangerous situation and then escaping because of outside influences or lucky mistakes. That's not a particularly compelling pattern, and it gets less interesting every time it is repeated. Here, at least, Kupperberg adds some intensity in the form of the blue creature's torturous death, and that alone is enough to raise this Hukka tale above those that came before. Yet it still fits into the typical Hukka story mold, so at the end of the day, it's not that impressive or important a part of the Atari Force whole.

Atari Force Month: Special Part 1 Review

The first story in the Atari Force Special is also the longest, a full-length, 21-pager relating Dart's origin story. Or...not her origin, exactly, just her history, how she became a mercenary and met Blackjak and the like. If any character deserved a more complete background, it was Dart, and so I am pleased to have this story in existence. I just wish it was a little more original or innovative, instead of the string of cliches it actually is.

Dart is the stereotypical outcast in her youth, seen as a freak by the other girls at the New Earth Military Academy because of her parents' past traveling through the Multiverse and the strange powers it gave her. She gets bullied by what amounts to the popular clique, and, as is to be expected, only has one real friend, her roommate Dalia. The two of them get into a fight with their rivals, which of course the mean girls initiate but, predictably, the blame falls on Dart and Dalia. So they are sent away, basically going from one military school to another, only the new one is more of a mercenary camp, run by a somewhat menacing bald old dude named Drago. He is an archetype, the sensei character, imparting all his skills and knowledge to these promising new students. And Dart and Dalia rise quickly through the ranks, as they must, so that Drago soon puts them in charge of their own mission. They join one side of a civil war on the planet Kolb, and it costs Dalia her life. Shortly after, Dart discovers that, in fact, Drago's people were fighting on both sides, that her master is a greedy scumbag who creates conflict for his own gains. So, still an archetype, just not the one he seemed to be at first. Finally and inevitably, Dart confronts and defeats Drago, and the student becomes the master in yet another story.

Perhaps I am being too harsh on the story. Andy Helfer and Paul Kupperberg do use a lot of tired tropes in their script, yes, but admittedly they are not the tropes of the sci-fi or superhero genres, necessarily, which are the worlds in which Atari Force has its feet planted. Still, I found myself underwhelmed by this narrative because it never really surprised me, never did anything out of the ordinary. Glad as I am to have the details of Dart's younger years, it would have been preferable if they'd been as unique and compelling as she was as a character in the main series. Instead, they feel borrowed from other places, and her history becomes a weird puzzle where all the pieces have been used before in more impressive ways.

It does turn out that Dart is responsible for Blackjak losing his eye, a result of Drago pitting them against each other even though they both worked for him. And it is Blackjak who helps Dart carry out her vengeance against their boss for her lost friend, so that the strongest romance from the series also has its beginnings here, and we gain some insight into Blackjak's past as well. I did like that, even if, again, it wasn't wholly unexpected.

And it's a nicely drawn story, with pencils from Marshall Rogers, who does a good job of aging Dart down and handles all of the action well. His design for Drago is about as familiar as the man himself, another mean old bastard with no hair and a wicked grin. But Rogers makes up for it with the native species of Kolb, who are described in the script as being "too bogged down by their corporeal forms to actively participate in any physical activity." Rogers takes that idea and makes them into miniature, blobby Incredible Hulks, stout little green people with legs that barely seem capable of holding them up. It's a throwaway visual gag, but also one of the best parts of the artwork in this story. And the artwork is the best part of the piece as a whole, anyway.

When Dart and Dalia are training, and then again when Dart fights Drago (lots of D names up in here), Rogers packs a lot of action into single panels. And there is a powerful natural chemistry between Dart and Dalia, whether at school or on the battlefield, that helps add some oomph to Dalia's death. Rogers' work didn't melt my face, but it certainly improved the overall quality of this section of the special. Had it been uglier to look at, the cliched nature of the narrative would have been that much more grating.

A final complaint: the way Dart ultimately defeats Drago is by stabbing him in the back. Now, that's all well and good on its own, but Drago's reaction/the writers' explanation for how she was able to pull off such a direct attack is that he never taught her to fight like that. Um...what? You're trying to tell me that a master mercenary, who has been in the business for decades, and who teaches his employees "combat of every style" is completely unprepared for anyone to attack him from behind? That is just ridiculous. And it didn't need to be there, anyway. Dart and Blackjak double-team Drago, and when he's focused on the latter, the former drives a sword through his back. It didn't need to be explained or excused, and trying to force in the "I never taught you" nonsense significantly weakens what should be the dramatic peak. Instead, it becomes comedically absurd, and unbelievable to boot.

I am glad to have read this. I am glad it was written. I love Dart, and as I said, she deserved to have her past fleshed out more than anyone else in the book. But this particular story didn't do her justice, didn't rise to the challenge of giving her a fittingly awesome origin. It's not terrible, but it's one heck of a missed opportunity.

Atari Force Month: Issue #13 Review

This is the last issue to have Gerry Conway's name attached, and once again he only plots it, while Joey Cavalieri handles the actual script. And the script is really good, but it's the plotting that matters most, as the very end of the issue sees the Dark Destroyer's anti-matter bomb denoting as he'd planned. Atari Force's entire universe is eliminated from existence, a bold final move by Conway and Cavalieri that I admire and adore.

The entirety of the issue is Atari Force's final confrontation with the Destroyer. It begins with an explanation of how the Destroyer has Martin's physical appearance, which I founnd largely unsatisfying. Basically, when the old Atari Force battled him originally, the Destroyer sent a part of himself out into space as a contingency plan. When his old body was destroyed, this fragment continued, eventually finding Martin and his wife Lyida on New Earth right before she gave birth to their son. So the Destroyer stole Lydia's life-force (not sure of the details of how that works), killing her, and then apparently also stole a bit of Martin's self before departing to be reborn in his new, Martin-based form. What bugs me about this is, a) shouldn't the Destroyer look like Lydia if she's the person he actually killed? b) it's a rushed and incomplete explanation, and c) it's too predictable. The Destroyer looks like Martin because he copied part of Martin. Dull.

 I love that he entered a pregnant space swamp hippo in order to be born anew. Aside from that tiny tidbit, though, the Destroyer's backstory is weak and disappointing. However, it sets him up as being just as obsessed with Martin as Martin is with him, and that relationship is key to the ending of this issue. Martin attacks the Destroyer head-on, a straight-up fist fight between two old foes. And Martin, fueled by decades-old rage, manages to best the Destroyer in that combat (which is ridiculous, but more on that in a minute). However, punching the bad guy out does not disable his bomb, so even though Martin finally gets to defeat the being he's been chasing for twenty years, he loses the war. The bomb goes off, and reality is undone. So Martin and the Destroyer both win, and both lose, mirror images of one another right up to the bitter end. Martin succeeds in taking out his enemy but fails to save the world. The Destroyer pulls off his grand, universe-ending scheme, but dies in the process, a bloodied and beaten man laying next to his bomb as it explodes. The two were so hell-bent on getting at each other, they let it ruin both of their lives.

I do have a general problem with Martin using only his fists against the Destroyer, and with how quickly and easily Atari Force wins the battle in general. Considering when Tempest was fighting him, none of his hits even made an impact on the Destroyer, I'm unclear as to how Martin can so completely kick his ass. And issue #12 saw the whole team getting handily beaten by the Destroyer's forces, so since the events of this issue take place only minutes later, I'm confused as to why, all of a sudden, the same enemies fall to Atari Force in mere seconds. Morphea takes out a huge group of minions with a single mind-blast, which she's never done before. Nobody is overrun, and Pakrat and Babe barely have anything to even do. It all feels unearned, but I can forgive it to a degree, since the good guys fail in their most important goal in the end.

Also, in the midst of this overly-easy fight, Dart and Blackjak have another confrontation, and she finally admits to herself that he is, now and maybe forever, her enemy. That he let the Destroyer into his mind willingly, and will indeed kill her if given the chance. So she shoots him first, and even though the scene is a bit brief, new penciler Ed Barreto makes it visually quite moving. Three panels show the progression of Blackjak being hit and falling to the ground, while Dart looks on helplessly from afar. These panels are joined by a background image of a close-up of Dart's face, tears escaping from her eyes as she watches her former love go down. She knows she had no choice, and Morphea reminds her of it, but that does not ease the pain. Because Cavalieri's script didn't have space to get into the complex emotions of that moment, Barreto takes care of it in a single, striking image.

Barreto is a good fit for this book on the whole. He does some really dynamic layouts, and the issue has an almost overwhelming energy to it. There are a lot of overlapping panels, visuals that break out of the borders, and jam-packed action on these pages. And the cast are every bit as distinct and detailed as always. They look just like themselves, because Barreto's style doesn't stray too dramatically from García-López's. Barreto's figures are sterner and a bit more solid or firm, but some of that has to do with the all-action plot of this issue. Everyone has to be a bit more serious than usual, because they're involved in very serious business.

So all of the action looks great, even if victory comes too quickly for our heroes. And, again, it's barely a victory, because seconds after they finish the fight, the anti-matter bomb destroys everything in the universe. That's an excellent way to finish the long-running thread of the struggle against the Dark Destroyer, and a huge part of me wishes the series had just ended with it. How surprising and impressive would that have been? The villain wins, reality explodes, the end. I've always wanted to write a story that had an abrupt, unexpected end-of-everything conclusion, but Conway and crew got it done before I was even born. It is somewhat frustrating that Tempest's trial is unresolved, Rident's location is still a mystery, and other such threads are left dangling. But, at the same time, blowing up the universe resolves all of those questions, just with the same answer: "and then they blew up." I understand that, on a technical level, this is not great storytelling. Personally, though, I'm all for it. Let Tempest die with his story still unfinished. It speaks to the inanity of the court system that his trial would be ongoing in the moment everything burned. Plus it's a surprise, which I always like from my fiction.

It seems like the title has made an official switch from 23-page stories to 16-pagers with a 7-page backup. This issue, the backup is written by Paul Kupperberg and drawn by Dave Manak with Keith Giffen on inks. It is another Hukka story and, like the last one, it is silly and fun but inconsequential. Hukka meets and makes friends with a fuzzy, yellow, bunny-like creature named Chee. They play for a while, and then Chee jumps down a hole, so Hukka follows. Once down there, another of Chee's race tries to eat Hukka, and Chee seems to support that plan, until he/she/it is reminded of the fun it had with Hukka above ground. So Chee saves Hukka, but, sadly, cannot play anymore, since the rest of its family would still eat Hukka if they had the chance. It's a poignant ending to a sweet but simple tale about the cruelty of nature.

Manak draws Hukka well, infusing him with the adorability and curiosity I've come to expect. Chee, too, is extremely cute, almost overly so, yet in such a way that when Hukka gets down the hole and is chased by another of the same creature, it looks convincingly menacing. It's definitely an enjoyable backup strip, but what purpose does it serve? Why shorten the main narrative every month in order to include this? Which came first, the desire for fewer pages of the primary story, or the thought of doing backups? Either way, not the best call.

And I question the decision to continue the series after this issue, too. From a marketing perspective, assuming the book sold at all, I understand it. But creatively, it feels like the story is told. Atari Force have revealed the master plan of their arch-rival, a mystery some of them had been trying to solve since before the start of issue #1. And the Destroyer has carried out that plan, ending countless lives on countless worlds. It's so mind-bogglingly catastrophic a conclusion, to have to follow it seems an impossible task. If I imagine this issue without the few seeds it plants at the end in order to allow the title to move forward (Atari Force escape to Scanner One, Dark Destroyer sends a piece of his mind into Kargg's, etc.), it's all the more satisfying. The way Cavalieri writes it, the bomb unquestionably works. The universe if definitely destroyed, the people definitely die, etc. That's a powerful note to land on, and one I think fits the series perfectly. As I've said, Atari Force's strongest material always comes when the titular heroes are losing. By that logic, then, having them fail completely to disable the anti-matter bomb could and should be the greatest story ever. It isn't, because it has new creators and it's too short and it's not the actual ending of the series and so forth. But it's still an awesome way for Conway to say goodbye, and I suspect his original plan was to have the anti-matter bomb kill everyone, Atari Force included. I like to think so, anyway, and part of me will always wish that had been what happened, no matter how good the Mike Baron-penned issues end up.