Atari Force Month: Issue #19 Review

Sometimes, a given issue of a series is going to necessarily have predictable events. Because comicbooks tell ongoing, serialized tales, when the time comes to wrap them up, the endings can be easy to see from a distance. If the author(s) sets up the resolution(s) logically enough, then things will progress in natural and expected ways. This doesn't have to be a negative, but often it is, because even though it's important to have the story maintain some internal consistency, we still want to be surprised as readers. I give Mike Baron serious credit, then, for the blend of the predictable and the surprising in Atari Force #19. Though the titular team's return home ends up exactly as I knew it would, the journey there looks different than I thought, and has a few brand new elements thrown in that fit perfectly despite coming out of left field.

When Atari Force decide to head straight for New Earth and evade A.T.A.R.I. station, it's obviously not going to work, so Baron doesn't draw it out or play it for tension. Security chief Hunter is informed on page three that Scanner One has been spotted, so there's no question that our heroes will be brought in. Where Baron finds an opportunity to shock the reader is the specific spot on New Earth that Martin chooses as a landing zone. Thought he believes it to be an abandoned site, it is in fact the heart of a secret weapons development program called "Warmech." So instead of landing and immediately facing the wrath of Hunter and his crew as anticipated, Atari Force must first deal with an automated, combat-ready robot. It's a small difference, but an important one, for a few reasons. Firstly, even Hunter wants to prevent the Warmech from attacking, because the project is valuable to him, and he doesn't want Atari Force to destroy it (which, of course, they do). It also gives Atari Force, and Martin in particular, a sudden disillusionment with their homeworld. The New Earth they left all those months ago wasn't building weaponry, and the change does not sit well with Martin. My expectation was that, while they'd be annoyed at being labeled criminals, Atari Force would generally be glad to have gotten home after so long away. Instead, their return is tainted from the start by the Warmech program, and the generally harder, more violent/fascistic nature of current New Earth society that it represents.

The Warmech fight also provides Kargg a chance at some small measure of redemption, which I wasn't sure he'd ever get. He could easily have remained in the background, a simple and stoic former enemy whose story was essentially already complete. Free of his former master's mental control, Kargg didn't necessarily need to prove himself to his new team in the short space remaining for this book. Changing his tune from foe to ally was enough of a character arc, and there were and still are so many other threads to tie up, I wondered if he'd ever have anything active to do again. But he nearly sacrifices his own life in order to defeat the Warmech, winning Dart and Blackjak's admiration in the process. It's a nice moment for the character and the series, the final surprise of this script before things get back on the original narrative track.

Because Hunter still does show up, and still does arrest Atari Force, just as he always had to do. However, even in that, there are some twists. Taz and Kargg cannot be arrested, logically enough, because they weren't part of the group that originally stole Scanner One. But Morphea also gets a pass, since her actions are evidently protected by "doctor/patient immunity." This is all New Earth law, which obviously I didn't know the details of ahead of time, since they are entirely made up by Baron. I appreciate that he took the time to think it through, though, and pleasantly surprised that Hunter wasn't just herding everyone into cells no questions asked. It adds a bit of depth and intelligence to his character, first of all, and more importantly it's another way in which Baron avoids being wholly predictable. It all adds up, but the final sum isn't what I thought it would be.

The issue ends with the inevitable trial's beginning, charges of treason and conspiracy and the like being brought against the members of Atari Force who could be arrested. And while the trial itself was inevitable, I admit that the verdict remains somewhat mysterious. If Martin can prove he was right all along about the Dark Destroyer, that he and his crew prevented the obliteration of the entire universe, will that even be enough? It seems possible that the deck is already so stacked against the good guys that nothing they can do will convince their accusers of their innocence. Also, with the discovery of Warmech and the many recent additions to their number from various other worlds, I'm not positive Atari Force cares to remain on New Earth anymore. Having finally reached their destination, they find it changed for the worse, so they may not be all that invested in winning their trial anyway. Where the team will be at the close of the next, final issue is anyone's guess, another point in Baron's favor here.

On the art side of the equation, there's nothing especially dazzling in Atari Force #19, but there are no noticeable mistakes or bad calls, either. Everyone in the expansive cast is full, mobile, expressive, and clear. The action hums, the emotional drama is played at just the right levels, and all in all it's a good-looking issue. Kargg's selfless attack on Warmech is likely the best work. His determination shines through, as does his immense strength, as he climbs the machine and rips it open despite having only one arm. While Baron is toying slightly with expectations in his script, Ed Barreto goes almost the opposite route. He doesn't pull out many fancy or daring artistic moves, but opts for more straightforward storytelling methods. There are a few bold layouts when called for, but mostly these pages concern themselves with getting the information out and giving each member of the cast the right amount of spotlight.

I was hoping the momentum of issue #18 would carry over into and beyond this one, and for the most part I'd say it does. And in those places where the story swerves a bit, it does so with purpose and thoughtfulness, enhancing the ongoing saga without overturning it. Though Baron and Barreto's tenure has been hit and miss on the whole, I am excited to see how they bring it all to a close.

The backup feature is wordless (well...there's nothing in English, just indecipherable, symbol-based alien language) and was written, penciled, and colored by Ed Hannigan with Bill Wray on inks and Bob Lappan, as always, handling the letters. It is the story of Taz, basically right before we meet her in the main series, losing her combat/life partner to war. Without question, it's the strongest of these seven-page closers, the only one yet that has really been about something other than telling a cute and disposable story. It has something to say, even though no one actually says anything I can understand.

Taz and her partner are already the last two members of their species standing in the story's opening panel. And by the end of the first page, it is just Taz, as an enemy ship strafes the pair and kills Taz's love. The pilot of that ship departs in order to loot the bodies, and Taz ambushes him, blowing his vessel up and causing a massive gap in the ground down which they both fall. They recover quickly, and Taz is seconds away from killing her foe when they are both attacked by an enormous underground serpent or slug of some kind. Suddenly, enemies becomes allies as they work together to evade and then slay the giant beast. Then, there is a bit of extra teamwork needed in order for them to climb back to the surface, pushing against each other's backs as they walk up opposite sides of the chasm. It almost feels like this story's lesson is one of peace over war, but as soon as they've made it topside, their alliance crumbles. Despite emphatic protests from the other alien, Taz guns him down mercilessly, and then picks up her partner's corpse and wanders into the sunset, mere minutes away from meeting Babe and joining the rest of the team in the main storyline. On the final panel, Hannigan offers the only bit of English present in the form of a tiny, third-person, barely visible moral: "Hang on to your gun." But the true meaning and strength of this backup feature is deeper than that.

It is, essentially, an examination of different kinds of violence. There is fighting for survival, and then there is war, and both get stage time here. Both lead to death, but only one also creates harmony, however temporary, and it is a significant distinction. When Taz and her enemy team up to battle the more immediate threats of the giant slug and the hole they're trapped in, the war they were participating in seconds before disappears entirely. When in survival mode, things like race and politics and vengeance evaporate, replaced by more urgent, immediate needs. In many ways, this story displays the mindless ugliness of war, the lack of reason behind it. War is violence that can only beget further violence, whereas the violence inherent in defending oneself against a predator can and does end there. Either the predator dies or the prey does, and then the story is over. But in war, everyone is both predator and prey, an endless cycle of hunting the hunters until only one side has anyone left.

War can turn friends into foes; survival does the opposite. The violence of war necessarily involves hatred and, sometimes, also joy, irrational and overwhelming emotions that cloud the senses. Survival, on the other hand, is a practical kind of violence. Both involve kill-or-be-killed circumstances, but with war, the killing is the point. The violence is the ends, rather than the means. In nature, violence either creates food or prevents its creation, but the goal is survival either way. It's not about putting down the other guy, but staying up yourself. Again, subtle but important differences that Hannigan deftly examines.

With only one issue to go before this series calls it a day (or a year-and-a-half or whatever) things are coming together quite nicely. Baron has left his cast in unenviable and unpredictable positions for the final chapter, and Hannigan finally proved that the backup features could have merit and soul. I'm anxious to dive into issue #20 now, in a way I'm not sure I've felt since Gerry Conway and José Luis García-López departed the title. Sort of too bad that my excitement would be so refreshed so close to the end, but better than having it peter out completely. Here's hoping the last chapter lives up to the potential so firmly established in this penultimate issue.

Atari Force Month: Issue #16 Review

The stomach pains Taz first experienced back when Gerry Conway was still writing finally resolve here, and what a delightful resolution it is. Taz, it turns out, was pregnant, and she gives birth to a whole gaggle of tiny Tazlings that look equally hilarious and adorable, and show up just in time to save the day. The giant armed ants from last issue sneak aboard Scanner One at the beginning of this one, and when they attack the bridge, none of the weapons Atari Force has available do anything to them. But the Tazlings arrive en masse with an arsenal of weapons they built themselves out of the ship's parts, and eliminate the enormous bugs easily. It's a great and bizarre action scene, the high point of an issue that is considerably stronger and more focused than the last.

Mike Baron picks up right where he left off, with Babe covered in a growing swarm of ants while he tries to fix the ship's thrusters. At first it is unclear if Babe will survive, but then he has, essentially, a brief temper tantrum, which causes the ants to fall off of him immediately. So he is able to repair Scanner One, and Atari Force departs the bug-covered planet, but not before a handful of the warrior ants secretly climb aboard. While the invaders make their way through the ship's interior, Baron takes the opportunity to introduce a few new plotlines. Dart and Blackjak have a pseudo-reconciliation, opening the door for their relationship to heal for the first time since he betrayed her. And immediately afterward, Dart gets a telepathic call from Tempest, indicating that perhaps New Earth wasn't destroyed as previously believed. Neither of these are unexpected developments, but Baron does a god job with them. He doesn't drag them out, but they have the proper space to breath, much more intelligently paced than his scenes have tended to be up to now.

After Dart tells the rest of the team that she spoke with Tempest, the ant attack and Taz giving birth happen simultaneously, so that the ants-vs.-Tazlings fight makes up most of the issue's latter half. Once the bugs have been slain, Morphea explains that the Tazlings are born with language skills, technical know-how, and other abilities that they will lose and have to re-learn with age. They also, apparently, always find something to fix as a group. This is an interesting concept, that an entire litter of alien babies would emerge with a common goal and the skills to achieve it, only to give those things up as they mature. And this particular group selects Blackjak as their thing to fix, which is how the issue closes. The Tazling basically overrun Blackjak, reminiscent of the ants all over Babe at the issue's opening. It might be scary, except Morphea has already explained by this point that the Tazlings are fixers, and a couple issues back, Dart had a premonition of Blackjak with two functional eyes. So it seems like a safe bet that his eye will be repaired by the babies next time. Possibly also the tumor in his brain in which lives an evil alien personality.

Ed Hannigan comes on as penciler for this issue, with common series inker Ricardo Villagrán and new colorist Carl Gafford rounding out the artistic team. They all provide solid work, with the Tazlings in particular. They have a manic joy about them, even when they're engaged in violence. They seem glad to be alive, glad to have something to do. And they work as newborns even with their intelligence and talents, because Hannigan infuses them with such a youthful spirit. His ants look great, too, very militaristic and intimidating. They are a powerful contrast to the tiny, giddy Tazlings, making their fight dynamic and lively.

I also quite liked the three or so panels of Taz giving birth. The pain and determination on her face struck a perfect balance. I think the best contribution of Hannigan's is his Morphea, though. She's a bit longer in the face and wider in the eyes when he draws her, which fits her always-concerned and often-distressed personality. And she is a bit more emotive than usual, somehow, more nuanced in her expression even though she has such an inhuman face. Finally, I appreciate that Hannigan ignored Ed Barreto's decision to give Dart pointless cleavage last issue. Her suit is back in one piece here, which is as it should be. I suppose, technically, it is a continuity mistake, but it's one I support wholeheartedly.

Gafford doesn't miss a beat with the colors, and compared to Tom Ziuko's weaker last few issues, this is actually a step up. Not the the colors ever astound me, but Gafford has a wide-ranging palette and attention to detail that add a thick richness to the art. Subtle things like Taz's white tears showing up even against her white flesh, or the ants' different weapons firing differently colored beams. Even the cover, where Taz's uniform is dark blues while the Tazlings behind her are done in a paler shade, shows Gafford's skill and care.

There are a few tiny missteps here. Martin says that Tempest reaching out to Dart is "further evidence that New Earth exists!" but I can't recall any previous evidence of that ever being found. One of Dart's speech bubbles is connected to Blackjak, Morphea apparently already knows Taz is pregnant even though it is news to the reader, etc. These are minor flubs, but it does speak to Baron's generally looser writing style. His scripts are a little less focused on detail or character, and more interested in new plots and sci-fi concepts. That is, I suppose, a valid tactic, but in the end I think it makes his issues less balanced than Conway's typically were.

The Pakrat backup is better than its predecessor, but only marginally so. The plan seems to be to tell an ongoing Pakrat story in seven-page chunks now, which is an alright decision, but I do wish they'd used another character. With Pakrat, the only real option is a caper story, and that's what we're getting here, only it's not a very good one. Pakrat is tossed out a window of the embassy he tried to rob last issue, and gets saved by Ferra in a hovercar/spaceship/unnamed airborne vehicle. She takes him to one of her father's homes, lulls him into a false sense of security and then, as the cliffhanger, turns him over to his brother Rident. A lame ending in light of Rident recently joining the main narrative as a seemingly permanent cast member, but taken on its own it works alright. Andy Helfer seems to be having fun writing Pakrat, and Pakrat is having fun on his adventure. So is Ferra, probably doubly so. This translates into a story that's fun and easy to read, which is, I suppose, what a backup ought to be. But it's not especially compelling.

Really the highlight of this story is the action sequence, with Pakrat battling the embassy guard and then Ferra saving him and avoiding arrest. Mike Chen draws the most ferocious-looking cornered Pakrat I think the series has ever seen, and doesn't skimp on the guard's expressions either. And the in-flight high-speed chase is exciting and bombastic, ending with Ferra pulling some daredevil stunts to get away. By the time that's done, there are only two pages left, and the final one is a full-page splash of Pakrat, Ferra, and Rident, all drawn with great detail and emotion. So I guess when I say "the action" is this story's highlight, what I really mean is the art trumps the script.

All told, this is Baron's strongest issue yet, and one of the best backup stories since the title started having them. I do wish Baron could get a better handle on the cast, and bring back some of the powerful emotional storytelling that used to be present in this book. But he's got some good ideas, and he seems to be finding his footing more and more, so here's hoping things only get better in the final few chapters.

The Cheese Stands Alone: Green Arrow #20

The Cheese Stands Alone is a semi-regular column featuring examinations of single issues that can be understood and appreciated on their own, without reading any of the preceding or following issues of the series.
 
In Mike Grell's amazing 80-issue run on Green Arrow, he sort of took the "super" out of superhero. Nobody ever refers to Oliver Queen as "Green Arrow," he loses his mask early on, and he pretty much never interacts with any of the other super folks operating in the (presumably shared) DC Universe. He lives with Black Canary, of course, though she goes by Dinah Lance and is more often a florist than a hero under Grell's pen, but otherwise the cast of the book is fairly "normal." Even Queen's foes, while often highly-skilled, tend to be unpowered. However, in Green Arrow #20, we see a familiar face from the DCU for the first and, I believe, last time: Hal Jordan, the most prominent Green Lantern. Of course, this is still Grell's book, so even Green Lantern remains just Hal, never donning his ring or mask. He's not there to aid Oliver in battle against some gigantic threat; he wants only to help one of his oldest friends bounce back from a dark and tragic time. It is a simple, direct, and effective issue that completely stands alone.
     Now, if you want to get technical about it, Green Arrow #20 is the second part of a two-parter titled "The Trial of Oliver Queen." But some of the strength of that story lies in the fact that both of its chapters more or less work on their own, each one putting the hero through a different sort of trial. In the preceding issue (#19), Oliver shoots---with an arrow, don't worry---and severely wounds a child who he believed at the time was about to gun down a police officer. It is discovered too late that the kid had only a paintbull gun, and so our hero is taken to court, where the judge comes down hard on him for his vigilante activities. Oliver then comes down on himself even harder, nearly drowning in alcohol and guilt. It's a great opening chapter, and well worth reading, but here's the thing: it pretty much gets summed up for you in the first six pages of Green Arrow #20 anyway. Through some tightly-scripted police dialogue and a visually dynamic dream sequence, Grell and penciller Ed Hannigan bring up to speed anyone who might be coming into this issue cold, and they do it in a way that still moves all the essential characters forward in their own stories. This kind of seamless, natural recap is a rarity in comics, and a tactic that could and should be used more often, and it is a major part of why I selected Green Arrow #20 for this column. Though it's hardly the only reason.
     The best part of the issue is the scene between Oliver and Hal. At a campsite on Mt. Rainier, Hal forces his old friend to stop bingeing on booze and self-pity and start living again, which Oliver gets pretty pissed about at first. As their conversation becomes an argument and then a fistfight and then, finally, a moment of clarity followed by a hug, the reader learns just how much these two men mean to each other. It's clear even if you knew nothing about either of them beforehand, and even though the exact details of their history remain obscure. The way they speak to one another---with language that is simultaneously blunt and caring, comfortable and strained---and their transition from violence to tenderness make the depth of their friendship obvious. It is a well-handled scene, in both its words and images, and it gets Oliver back on his feet in a way that's space-efficient (in terms of page length) without feeling rushed or cheap. After understandably falling to pieces over harming and nearly killing a child, Oliver is reminded that no man, hero or otherwise, is infallible; what matters is how we handle our mistakes. As Hal says, "It's your choice. If you let it, it will destroy you."
    This message is an old one, but still appropriate and true. Same goes for Oliver's speech at the end of the issue to Officer Egan, one of the cops involved in the accident with the paintballer. By the story's close, Egan is in a hospital bed after encountering another underage criminal, who this time had a real gun and used it. The policeman requests that Oliver visit him, and it is the first time in Green Arrow #20 that the two characters come together, even though the catalyst for each of their individual narratives is the same. Prior to the hospital, Egan's story in this issue is more or less separate from Oliver's, and in some ways the inverse. Where Oliver tried to run from his shame and let it ruin him, Egan deals with his own shaken confidence by diving right back into his job. And instead of ending up with a renewed sense of righteousness as Oliver does, Egan gets himself shot, presumably bringing his continued competency as a police officer even further into question than it was in the issue's opening pages. It is as sad a story as Oliver's is hopeful, and creates an interesting mood for their scene together. Oliver delivers a passionate pseudo-rant about the difference between "law" and "justice" and why the world needs men like him. It's almost a thesis statement for the character and the title, perhaps laid on a bit too thick in some of the specific examples and the generally overbearing tone. But the person to whom these words are spoken and the setting that surrounds him are so still and peaceful and tragic that Oliver's big, victorious finish is dampened, and it helps to bring what could've have been an over-the-top moment back down to Earth. Which is, of course, what the whole of Grell's run on Green Arrow did to the character and the superhero comicbook in general.
     But I'm not here to discuss the entire run. I doubt if I could find the space. This is about a single, excellent installment, the tale of two men reacting to a horrible accident in very different ways and ending up in very different places. And also the tale of an old and meaningful friendship saving a tortured soul from itself. And also, remarkably, an explanation of vigilantism and superheroism in the big picture, and why one man does what he feels is necessary in the battle against evil.



Green Arrow #20 was published by DC comics and is dated July 1989.