Wednesday's Child

Moved!

noreply@blogger.com (Paul DeBenedetto) — Tue, 06 Oct 2009 14:42:00 +0000

If you're reading this via a feed like Google Reader update your damn link! I'm at http://wednesdayschild.net now, but the RSS might be Wordpress since I'm just redirecting to there for now.

Thanks for the patronage!

Intermission

noreply@blogger.com (Paul DeBenedetto) — Tue, 29 Sep 2009 13:40:00 +0000

Mea culpa. It's been a while since I last posted but I assure you it means only good things. I'm working on switching this blog over to its own domain, and would rather not post anything new over here until that's done. I am relatively sure we'll have everything up and running by Monday, so come back then for a full run-down on the last two (soon to be three) weeks of comics. Everything I read in that time period, succinctly reviewed. What a treat! Other projects on the docket:

A continuation of my Blackest Night coverage, and how it points to a glaring flaw in people's understanding of the "Event Comic", and perhaps comics in general.
Getting my shit together and coming up with content for Baltimore Comic-Con, which I will be attending with the incomparable Matt Occhuizzo, camera in tow.
A collaborative piece for another comics site.
A brand new music blog, which I'm working on with a few close friends, all of whom are smarter/funnier/better writers than I am (I KNOW RIGHT HOW COULD THAT BE.)
MORE?!

I took down my last post, the intro to my Blackest Night/event comic commentary, for the sake of integration. I'll repost it as soon as we switch over, which is Monday, October 5th. Also, my birthday is October 8th. My birthday. 26 years old. Twenty-six. Two Six. Two? Six. I am officially going to be in my late-mid twenties. That's a thing, right? My goal has always been to be in the top five Google hits for my last name come my 26th birthday (not true) and thanks to Disney buying Marvel I've actually done it.

Thanks, and see you on Monday.

109 Here Are Some Books That Have Pictures In Them That I Read This [Thursday] (9/10/2009)

noreply@blogger.com (Paul DeBenedetto) — Fri, 11 Sep 2009 17:03:00 +0000

Welcome to HASBTHPITTIRTW. Each Thursday I'll be reviewing some comics I bought the day before from my local comic shop, Bergen Street Comics.

To be honest there were some good comics this week, but Fred Van Lente deserves credit for once again putting out the two best comics of the week: Incredible Hercules and The Amazing Spider-Man. Now here's some bad ones! Yayyy!

Models Inc. #1
Written by Paul Tobin
Pencils by Vinçenc Villagrasa

Is it good? Not really, no, but I somehow don't think a whole lot of thought went into this project, other than "make a comic about models and have a Tim Gunn back up and maybe girls will read it." Well, the back up is a whole lot better than the main story, and that's about the closest to a positive review I can give this comic. Tobin tries his best but ultimately when encumbered with a generic artist his cute dialogue comes off as boring and overly explicated. "Did you know Patsy Walker was Hellcat?" "You mean Hellcat the SUPERHERO??"

The problems with creating a comic about fashion and making Hellcat the most recognizable name of the bunch in order to ease the transition for young women entering the Marvel Universe are too many to name, laying mostly in the truth that just saying Hellcat is a superhero, one that people "in continuity" know about, and recognize instantly, automatically creates a barrier for readers who have never heard of Hellcat. My cousin Dominique seems to be who this comic is marketed towards-- young, female, non-comics reader who might be interested in a story about fashion-- but that scene would completely take her out of it. It turns the story back into "this thing of ours". The moment isn't a long one, maybe two or three panels, but it's mentioned again later, and between that and the Human Torch cameo it's enough to make my cousin turn to me and say "who is this? what is this? why is this happening?", and by that point you've already lost her. And don't tell me she should recognize the Human Torch because of the Fantastic Four movies, because she doesn't care about the Fantastic Four movies. No one does.

Ultimately this book becomes another example Joe Quesada can point to in an interview and say, "hey, we tried, but girls don't like comics"; just another misguided attempt at pandering to a fan base its editors know nothing about.

Dark Avengers/Uncanny X-Men: Exodus
Written by Matt Fraction
Pencils by Mike Deodato and Terry Dodson

In the past I've extolled the virtues of Matt Fraction's Uncanny X-Men, but there are a few reasons why Utopia/Exodus/whatever was a horrible failure:

1. Change in location. The X-Men are no longer based out of Marin County, the Westchester of San Francisco. Now they're on Asteroid M, raised from the ocean and situated off the coast of the Bay Area. They aren't allowed to leave it legally, and so it's essentially a prison colony (like Australia, or Newark.) The status quo of the mutants in San Francisco worked great because it made them people, part of the real world, and thus allowed for more personal stories. It's the only way the X-Men have ever really worked. All those great Claremont stories, even when the team was in space they seemed like fish out of water. Pixie being beaten half to death by mutant haters and Colossus saving those Russian refugees, those were stories that worked because of setting. You can keep your super-stories. I like my X-Men as thinly veiled allegories for race relations and homophobia, thank you very much.

2. Dark Reign is really, really boring. An unbelievable premise mixed with shoddy execution makes for a poor crossover event. Not only that but the X-Universe as a whole is criticized for being too complicated; I don't really see the benefit in shoehorning in Norman Osbourn and his boys for a few issues.

3. Rushed storytelling. The whole event felt like Fraction sort of just phoned it in. This issue was particularly bad, with Dodson and Deodato drawing fight scenes I couldn't even understand. Poorly chosen angles, awkward positions, and-- I'm sorry, is Ares swinging his axe at a wall? A building? A precipice? Whatever it is, it's not a person. If the god of war is in your battle scene and you aren't using him to fuck people up you are wasting him and should probably let someone else have a turn.

In any event this story is finally behind us. Fraction is way better than what's on display here, and I anticipate that the next few issues will prove that. As it stands, general rule of thumb now is to never buy an X-Men comic with The Sentry on the cover again.

Blackest Night: Batman #2
Written by Peter J. Tomasi
Art by Adrian Syaf and John Dell
and
Green Lantern Corps #40
Written by Peter J. Tomasi
Art by Patrick Gleason and Rebecca Buchman

If there's anyone with as much invested in "Blackest Night" as Geoff Johns it's probably Peter Tomasi, who is not only orchestrating one of the flagship books of the crossover but is in charge of one of it's tie-in comics as well. It's fitting, then, that these two comics came out in the same week, so we can analyze just what it is Tomasi brings to the table for "Blackest Night".

First let's take a look at the tie-in, Blackest Night: Batman. As these things go BN:B isn't the worst offender but it's far from perfect, falling into a trap that a lot of comics seem to fall into these days. Namely it presupposes that its audience cares, in this case about the random obscure villains being resurrected. In fact it seems to be the hook of the series (that and Dick Grayson's dead parents showing up.) Trouble is, it turns out comics don't work that way. You need to give people a reason to care, or else the large portion of readers who have no clue who Magpie is are going to be bored. Hell, I know who Magpie is and I'm bored. Bored of Deadman body-jumping, bored of Red Robin, bored of Commissioner Gordon and of immature Damian. I know I've said it in Blogging the Bat a few times but Christ, can we have a moratorium on using Damian for all writers but Grant Morrison? Seriously, no one but him does it well, writing him instead as an annoying little brat, and it ruins every story he's in.

Green Lantern Corps, on the other hand, is a title that has pretty consistently been a fun read. It's engrossing in a way that isn't too "Universe" driven, in that with a basic background in reading comics you should be able to follow it. I wouldn't recommend it to someone who has no idea who or what a "Kilowog" is, mind you, but if you've read your fair share of Supermans or Batmans or Wonder Womans it isn't too much of a leap to get the basic idea of this comic. Much like Matt Fraction's work on X-Men, though, this book has started to become somewhat hampered by the big crossover; from "Sinestro Corps War" to the "Blackest Night" build up to "Blackest Night" itself, there hasn't been as many self-contained stories as the early days of the series. And that's fine; "Sinestro Corps" went off like gangbusters, and the title has been pretty strong since then. Still, it's lost some of it's steam in the "Blackest Night" DC Universe. It's there to further along a story that someone else is working on, much like Fraction was used to further along Bendis' story. And I guess that answers my question, doesn't it?

What does Peter J. Tomasi bring to the table for "Blackest Night"? Just another pair of hands for Geoff Johns.

108 The Squirrel Machine

noreply@blogger.com (Paul DeBenedetto) — Thu, 10 Sep 2009 15:53:00 +0000

Hans Rickheit is described on the dust jacket of his new book as a "legendary obscurantist." It's hard to argue with that assessment. Throughout all 179 pages of The Squirrel Machine Rickheit tells a rich, fluid tale, all the while approaching, but not quite revealing any implicit meaning the story itself might have. The result, a daring, surreal, often grotesque work, is more visceral than it is cognitive.

There isn't much about The Squirrel Machine that doesn't seem like everything you've just read is one giant dream, or hallucination. Many scenes contain nothing that could feasibly be referred to as "the literal", relying only on symbolism to tell the the story, or perhaps not even that. It's possible Rickheit's intention was to craft a story with no intrinsic meaning, leaving different interpretations up to the reader; the author daring his audience to take part in the creative process.

This isn't to say the story doesn't contain "facts". On the contrary, its foundation is somewhat straightforward: the tale of two brothers who are societal outcasts due to their odd behavior and freakish inventions, The Squirrel Machine follows its protagonists Edmund and William Torpor as they grow older, becoming slightly more eccentric as the story progresses.

However, it's what isn't said that seems most interesting.For example, we're shown the blueprints to the Squirrel Machine, the titular invention, only in passing, and we're never quite given an impression of what it might do. Even as Edmund is about to explain his discovery to William he cuts himself short as he sees his brother's bruised and scraped face, implied to be a result of a run-in with local crazy person the Pig Lady. The machine is never again mentioned by either character on panel for the rest of the book.

The Pig Lady herself is a remarkably surreal entity, part homeless loon and part female shaman. Her speech is little more than a series of gibberish words and grunts, her actions nothing short of hypnagogic. She's seen eating the boils off of sick animals, and scooping the brains out of a crushed human head. Still, she serves as sort of a vessel of change throughout the book for each of the boys, first supplying the means with which to create their "pig organ" (an organ with pig heads rather than pipes to produce sound), then acting as the trigger for their eventual sexual and spiritual awakenings. Their attempt at creating a second organ, this time with a cow rather than her trademark pigs, is met with disaster.

Of course, if none of this makes sense it may be due to one man's misguided attempt at applying meaning to that which has none. Still, meaning or not, Rickheit's work feels far too personal to ignore. His artwork is crisp and detailed, and he can turn a scene on its head with just a few panels. Even if you're unsure of what he's saying Rickheit demands your attention as he says it.

Publisher: Fantagraphics

107 DC Comics to Become "DC Entertainment"

noreply@blogger.com (Paul DeBenedetto) — Wed, 09 Sep 2009 17:07:00 +0000

In a somewhat surprising move, and one sure to be seen as a response to Marvel's recent purchase by Disney, Warner Bros. has restructured DC Comics, creating the new DC Entertainment brand. The press release, which was announced via the DC Universe Blog, has Paul Levitz relinquishing his position as President and Publisher to Diane Nelson, currently president of Warner Premiere.

In his new role, Levitz will be called upon for his deep knowledge and more than three-decade history with DC Comics, both as a comic creator and an executive. Besides serving as a writer on a number of DC Comics titles, he will be a contributing editor and consultant to DC Entertainment on projects in various media.

This comes hot on the heels of Rich Johnston's previous report that Paul Levitz would be stepping down as President of DC Comics, but the news that DC would be changing from "Comics" to "Entertainment" was surprising, and Levitz' new position even more so.

I'm not entirely sure what impac tthis will have on the company's production, if any at all. If it means more movies based on their product, well, then good for them, I suppose. It's a weird distinction, though. If they were planning on getting rid of Levitz, or even if this is a response to Levitz stepping down, why the change in branding? I imagine many are going to throw their hands in the air complaining that the company is going to worry more about movies and TV than it is comics, and I suppose that's a valid concern but I doubt there will be any more changes other than a small shakeup in editorial. Still, Levitz had one hell of a career at DC, and this new role is either really beneath him or a nice, cushy position to segue into retirement.

What I think would be really interesting, though, is if this was "outed" by Johnston. People are saying this release was "rushed out" at the last second. It was being talked about less than an hour after Johnston's post. Was this DC reacting to a blogger's "scoop"? If so I think we live in some pretty weird times. The whole comics rumor site deal that Johnston has going on, a sort of TMZ or Page Two for comics... man, it's weird enough that shit actually exists. Now you're telling me someone with a blog and some friends in the business can change the way the mainstream comics industry operates? Shit man.

Thing is, we already know this happens in Hollywood with producers and studio execs looking to the internet to gauge fan reaction and possibly make changes to their productions. Now that Warner Premiere is more or less being merged with DC it doesn't seem unreasonable that the new management might react the same way. Thing is I'm not sure that kind of reasoning is a good thing for the comics industry (I'm hesitant to believe it's good for film), since most comics fans tend to be a bit more obsessive and character-minded than most film fans.

So while, say, Spout might talk shit on a Captain America movie for just not being a very good film, your average Newsarama or CBR message board hammerhead likes to talk shit about the creators of Captain America because he really loves Captain America-- like, as a person-- and if each comic is not catered to his tastes (yeah, I said "his"; this is one of those times female fans can be happy they're being ignored in a comics discussion) than there's nerd outrage. There's not as much intelligent criticism on comics as there is on film. Yeah, there's your Abhay Khoslas and Douglas Wolks of the world. But for every Savage Critic there's about a million Hannibal Tabu's out there waiting to ruin the world with their shitty taste in comics. This isn't to say there aren't a ton of shitty film critics as well, but I think we're at the point where we know who to listen to: Roger Ebert might be outnumbered by the Rotten Tomatos crowd but his opinions certainly go a longer way. It's like when I post reviews of comics: people stand at attention. They're demanding of an intellect far greater than your average comics fan. Also, everyone gets an erection.

Tomorrow: A review of Fantagraphics' Squirrel Machine, which I am just having the hardest time getting my thoughts down on paper for. I think I've finally decided that I like it. That much I know. I know I like it.

See? Now that's comics blogging!

UPDATE: Here's a letter from Diane Nelson.

106 Blogging the Bat #4: We Just Keep Chuggin' Along!

noreply@blogger.com (Paul DeBenedetto) — Tue, 08 Sep 2009 16:23:00 +0000

*Welcome back, you guys. I hope everyone had a great Labor Day weekend. Me? I got caught up with Mad Men, had a BBQ with my parents, and spent a wonderful day in Prospect Park drinking wine and reading this terrible comic. Major spoilers ahead, for those who care about things like that.

When I was a freshman in high school I used to write a lot of short fiction. Real dumb stuff, usually bad sci-fi or fantasy stories. Sometimes I'd see a movie, become obsessed, and try to rip it off in some way. Maybe write a script that was a mix between Swingers and Pulp Fiction (now that I think about it that was a common formula: Pulp Fiction + [INSERT MOVIE TITLE HERE].)

I never did much with my work at the time. I hardly ever showed anyone, or petitioned to get it in the paper, or submitted it to our literary magazine. In fact the closest I actually came to doing anything at all with my writing as a kid was joining an after school screenwriting club organized by our Freshman year guidance counselor Mr. Tedeschi, who in a past life worked for Marvel Comics. What he did there, I couldn't tell you. He could have been an accountant for all I know. What were his qualifications? Why was he in charge of the future screenwriters of America? I didn't know and I didn't care. All I knew was at 14-15 years old having a dude around who knew the outcome of "Infinity Crusade" was pretty fuckin cool in my book, and all the qualifications necessary to tell me how good my stuff was.

I showed Mr. Tedeschi a few of my stories, and he was always supportive. I mean it, by the time I was done with this club I fancied myself a young William Goldman. It was the sort of criticism you might imagine a high school guidance counselor would give his young, impressionable students at that age: "Terrific! Keep goin'!", "Write as much as you can!", "With enough hard work you TOO could be a famous writer!"

I didn't stay in this club very long, mostly because at that age I couldn't commit to much more than professional wrestling and video games, but his support stuck with me for a while. I continued to write in my spare time, and I even got over this phobia I had of finishing stories. You see, while I wrote a lot of short fiction I never actually got around to "completing" said short fiction. For me, there was always a point where I was completely stumped on how to continue. I knew what I wanted to say, where I was going. I could start the story, and I would know how it was going to end. It was just the middle part that stumped me. The mechanism for change, the moment where things take their turn, the climax right before the hammer falls. Couldn't master that itsy-bitsy, infinitely important detail.

After listening to Mr. Tedeschi and finally becoming confident enough to get over my phobia I started completing some of my work, even going so far as to wrap up some old stories I'd left on the shelf. I was feeling great about myself. I was really accomplishing something! Mr. Tedeschi helped me get on the right track! But a few months ago I found a few of my stories while moving into a new apartment, and looking at that work today I see a pretty glaring problem. You see, they started out strong enough, and reading the endings I could see what I was going for, more or less. I didn't hate the ideas behind the stories, those were fine to me. The problem was the formula and structure of the stories themselves. It went something like this:

Beginning (intro to characters) > Conflict > THEN A MIRACLE OR SOMETHING HAPPENS > Conclusion.

That's why I couldn't complete these stories. It wasn't about writer's block, I just wasn't a very good writer. I didn't understand what it took to write smart, entertaining fiction. As a 15 year old kid I didn't understand that every part of your story is important, not just the premise and the ending. Without that basic understanding of story writing I couldn't possibly churn out a story worth reading.

Remember this?

See that Two-Face Batman over there? Remember when we all thought that was some sort of metaphor?

Here's the last page of Batman #290:

There are one of two possibilities here. The first involves Winick having had this idea in his brain for quite some time and contributing to the original teaser done by Tony Daniel. The second, which is equally as stupid, involves Winick taking this metaphor for.... whatever and turning it literal, making it the focal point of his story.

Now, I don't know which of these is actually true. Frankly I don't think either option speaks too highly for Winick, except that one gives him more credit as an idea man than I think he deserves. What we can reasonably deduce, however, is that he has been waiting to write this scene for a long time. The rest of this comic, the other thirty or so pages, are completely meaningless. It's that scene, that image of Harvey Dent in a makeshift, symmetrical Batman costume that Winick wanted us to see.

And he's trying to say... well, what, exactly? Is it commentary on the thin line between hero and villain? Is it another look at the horrors mental illness have wrought upon a just man? Is it just a fuck yeah moment? I honestly struggled with this, but ultimately settled on the last choice after really examining the rest of the issue.

You see, he's really not saying anything. The opening scene, Batman fighting against Clayface and some freak-of-the-week ex-marine gone crazy (incidentally, I think it's "oorah", not "boorah"), is just another Batman fight we've seen a million times before, and this one isn't choreographed particularly well. Mark Bagley does the best he can but he's no Batman artist and Winick's dialogue is just horribly lazy, eventually devolving into Dick giving play-by-play of the battle. The Penguin subplot is boring, and I honestly can't imagine anyone caring about the "mystery villain" who's about to "take over Gotham City", almost certain to be the Black Mask.

The real watershed moment for me, though-- the moment where I finally got it, that there wasn't anything said because there wasn't anything to say-- was the use of the teleporter deus ex machina. Ah yes, of course. The teleporters that can take you directly to the Batcave. Whoa, whoa, whoa, fella. Take it easy; it's not like they can just take you to the Batcave whenever you feel like it! You need to have an object that was created there, like, say, one of the million batarangs that Batman leaves at each and every crime scene. Why hasn't anyone thought of this before? In all the years Batman has been around, and with all the super-powered humans in the world, no one ever thought to themselves, "hey, you know what? I bet one of these teleporters can take me to the Batcave, or the Fortress of Solitude, or that island where all of those lesbians live."

And, yeah, that's a stupid idea, obvious and lazy, but you know what? It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter because everything that happens before that last page is superfluous. It's why we're seeing the same Batman fight we've seen a million times before, and it's why that Penguin subplot is awkwardly wedged in there, and it's especially why the method Two-Face uses to enter the Batcave is teleportation; because everything before the last page reveal was prologue to the last page reveal. It's the easiest possible way to get the conclusion Winick has been working towards. Is this comic good? No, no, one thousand times, no. But it was just what the writer was looking for: thirty-two pages of Batman comic used to get to the next Batman comic. Just one more month of this, and then I get to talk shit about Tony Daniel again.

105 Here Are Some Books That Have Pictures In Them That I Read This Wednesday (9/2/2009)

noreply@blogger.com (Paul DeBenedetto) — Thu, 03 Sep 2009 18:17:00 +0000

Welcome to HASBTHPITTIRTW. Each Thursday I'll be reviewing some comics I bought the day before from my local comic shop, Bergen Street Comics.

I make fun of Dr. Sketchy's and praise Mark Waid in this one. Where's my credibility!

Supergirl Annual
Written by Sterling Gates

Art by Fernando Dagnino

There are two stories in this issue, neither of which are terribly interesting. The first story is Gates' attempt to sum up why we should give a shit about Kara: she's an outcast to her own people as well as the people of Earth, always trying to do the right thing but, due to youthful inexperience, occasionally falling short. The second story is an origin story for Lucy Lane/Superwoman, telling the story of a girl's unreciprocated love for her father. The former fails on all fronts, while the latter is just unoriginal.

First, my patience is wearing thin with Sterling Gates' take on Supergirl. When his run started I applauded his revamp of the character, changing her from a frustrating ditz to a girl trying her hardest to become the hero her cousin is. It was her dealing with her powers, and the considerations she had to take while using them, as well as the frustrations within her personal life, including the attempt at keeping a secret identity... secret. Then this whole New Krypton thing started and the train eventually came right off the rails. It isn't entirely Gates' fault, of course, that a company mandated storyline came his way (I know this story was supposedly the brainchild of Geoff Johns, James Robinson, and Gates, but I doubt the new guy had very much say in what was going to happen in the story); what I can blame him for, though, is how incredibly uninteresting the book has been for the past few issues, this Annual included. After a year of Supergirl stories, and with any growth the character may have had being stalled by a Super-book spanning storyline, all of the traits I found most fascinating about the character have become stale and though I'm hoping Gates can pull out of this nosedive-- it ain't lookin good.

As for the second feature? Lucy Lane is a boring character, with boring problems. Case closed.

Irredeemable #6
Written by Mark Waid
Art by Peter Krause

Superhero deconstruction is so passe that it's surprising how well it works here, but work it does, and in the same way Waid's "deconstruction" worked for Kingdom Come (which, for the record, I really disliked due to the work of Alex Ross.) He isn't trying to be Alan Moore, he's just writing the best superhero story he can. And so, yes, six issues into Irredeemable and I'm still reading it, still enjoying it.

But is this an ongoing? How can this be an ongoing? I mean if they eventually stop the Plutonian the story's over, and if they don't the story's over. How long can this premise stand on it's own? Maybe that's the problem I was unable to find with the otherwise solid book. I mean, there's a reason so many people roll their eyes at the "SERIOUS SUPERHERO BUSINESS" comics, the gritty, the "raw" and "realistic"; it's just so thin. You can't really make 600 issues of Watchmen, because in Watchmen Batman would kill the Joker and the Penguin, and Superman would burn out Lex Luthor's frontal lobe, and then the two of them would probably kill each other, and that's issue twelve. Finished. Maybe the epilogue shows Lois Lane became addicted to pain pills and Catwoman's last words were Rosebud or something but when Mark Waid came up with this idea I hope he finished his pitch with, "...and then it ends."

Strange Tales #1
by Various

Take a look at that cover by Paul Pope, please. Even if I had no idea who any of these creators were just seeing that image of Spider-Man upside down, about to shoot out webbing... god damn it, man, that's making comics.

"Lo, A Watcher!" (Nick Bertozzi) "We bear witness to the events of all worlds and all possible realities, recording the large and the small. From the extinctions of planets to the jiggling, voluptuous chaos that is the human female form!" Nick Bertozzi's intro to the book sets the tone: outsiders dicking around with Marvel's characters. With this book Marvel seems like the teacher who tries to be cool and relate to his students, and while the students act like the teacher's "down" he's still the nerdy teacher so they laugh when his back is turned.

That was some metaphor.

Pope's Inhumans Story, in which Lockjaw's meal keeps being delayed by attacking supervillains, is probably the best looking 8 pages in the whole book (as it's drawn by Paul Pope I doubt that's hard to imagine.) It even brings up a fun fact I've never seen before; that Lockjaw's not a dog, he's simply the most inhuman of all the Inhumans. Funny story, and the last panel is precious.

"You Are Cordialy Invited..." (John Leavitt, Molly Crabapple) This was probably the weakest of the bunch. I really can't stand Molly Crabapple's work. I know I'm probably the only person who thinks Dr. Sketchy's is dumb but what can you do. Besides, why should you care what I think? I just referred to information about Lockjaw as a "fun fact".

"Welcome to Spider Town" (Junko Mizuno) I usually hate cutesy stuff and the comic sans font (haphazardly added upon translation) is irritating, but I couldn't resist this story about Spider-Man and Mary Jane moving to a town inhabited by Spider-People. Sometimes your boy just needs to bask in the adorable.

"Dr. Strange vs. Nightmare" (Dash Shaw) One of the stronger works in the book. Not surprising, as Shaw is near the top of my list of favorite cartoonists today. Here he gives an example of what I mentioned earlier, using his opportunity earning a Marvel paycheck to fuck with Dr. Strange. It's really pretty funny, too, as the good Doctor's biggest fight is against the urge to yawn at the end; something I had no need to do (SEE WHAT I DID THERE?) Shaw does a great job of bringing his unique style to the characters, and those familiar with his webcomic Bodyworld will find it familiar, and enjoy his use of form to play with the genre is just great.

"Hulk Squad Smash" (James Kochalka) I don't know what to say. If you don't like James Kochalka you are going to fucking hate this. I like James Kochalka.

"Marvel's Most Embarrassing Moments" and "Scared Smart" (Johnny Ryan) It's the former, not the latter (Punisher) story that really entertains here, and Ryan proves he can tone it down and still be funny. Personal favorite: Dr. Strange's rap album, "Stanktum Stanktorum".

"Fed Up With Man" (Michal Kupperman) Another creator high on my list of current favorites, Kupperman takes his Marvel opportunity to play off of the Sub-Mariner's trademark grouchiness and contempt for the surface world. I could read a whole series of Namor just walking around commenting on seemingly innocuous situations with a sneer.

"The Incorrigible Hulk" (Peter Bagge) Finally seeing the light of day! Here to kick you in the teeth! The shocking... INCORRIGIBLE HULK! Well, no, it's not all of that but it's pretty good. From what I can tell it's the only story being serialized over the three issues, so I'll hold off judgement until its ending.

"...And Call My Lover MODOK!" (Bertozzi) By far the best work in the book, Bertozzi's tale of MODOK and his lover, AIM agent #272, as told through the last four decades. It's funny, for sure, with MODOK and his lady friend changing in appearance with each change in time, and MODOK's quest to create his PINPOINT DISCORPORATOR. But what starts as a ridiculous farce actually takes a quick turn at the end, and the last few panels are almost enough to make you tear up.

"The Green Menace" and "The Blue Hair" (Perry Bible Fellowship) Ba-dump-bump!

Jason's Spider-Man story had a funny premise, and as soon as you saw where it was going it got a chuckle out of me. The last panel was a good gag, too.

The Boys #34
Written by Garth Ennis
Art by Carlos Ezquerra

If last week's issue of Herogasm was everything that can go wrong with a Garth Ennis book, here's everything that can go right. Nazi Superman on the cover? Check. Said Nazi Superman getting a crowbar shoved down his throat? Check. Big black guy hitting Nazi Superman in head with baseball bat? Check. Big fat Soviet Superman with a Hammer and Sickle on his chest, kicking the shit out of Nazi Superman, followed by brains splattering? Double check. Not only that, Ennis finds a way here to sneak in story, and I've gone from a guy who never picks this book up to possibly picking up the last few back issues, and the start of the next story arc.

Still not enough Super-dicks, though.

104 Plus If I Recall Correctly I Was A Dynamite Lover

noreply@blogger.com (Paul DeBenedetto) — Wed, 02 Sep 2009 14:44:00 +0000

Last night's drunken thoughts on the Disney/Marvel thing, typed into my iPhone at around 1 AM, after a bottle of wine. At the time I imagined these words to be really insightful. You be the judge.

1. THIS IS LIKE THE UN-BIGGEST DEAL EVER
Oh come on, does anyone actually believe Miley Cyrus is going to be the newest Young Avenger, or that the Jonas Brothers and the Summers Brothers are going to square off at high noon? No, I suspect this isn't the case. In fact this whole "EVERYBODY CALM THE FUCK DOWN WE'LL BE OK" movement is sort of one giant straw man argument, in that these people spouting off rationale with rolled eyes are working themselves up over a contingent of fans that exists in very small numbers, if at all. I personally haven't seen any fanboys complain about this, sans some Newsarama posters, and those people are the least common denominator anyway*. We're presupposing outrage that isn't even really there.

2. IF WOLVERINE IS IN THE NEXT KINGDOM HEARTS GAME THAT WOULD BE KIND OF FUCKING AWESOME, ACTUALLY
The flip side of my argument-- that Disney might intermingle with Marvel a little bit-- maybe it wouldn't be so shitty. As the Fantastic Fangirls pointed out Maleficent is all set to be part of Norman Osbourn's cabal right now. And who knows; maybe a Disney/Marvel video game akin to that Lego Star Wars game? People loved that. Hell, I loved that**. The point here, though, is that Disney or no Disney, we're dealing with PRODUCT. If you're the kind of person that says "THEY RAPED MY CHILDHOOD" just stop reading and play with your Thundercats because that attitude deserves a smack.

3. ALL OF THE MARVEL MOVIES ARE SHITTY, WHILE EVEN THAT HOCKEY MOVIE MIRACLE WAS FUN TO WATCH
Yeah, Iron Man was the greatest comic book movie ever (fuck that Heath Ledger ass Dark Knight), but they've got nothing else going for them. If I'm being fanboy, I'll give 'em the X-Men franchise*** because c'mon man mutants but even I can't support X-Men Origins: Wolverine Is A Pussy The Whole Movie: The Movie. Spider-Man? It sucked. Boring as shit. Say what you will about X-Men 3; at least you got Logan being a fucking MADMAN in the woods, and a cool scene with Madrox being a dick. What did I get in Spider-Man? Bullshit, and Kirsten Dunst. Yeah, no thanks. I can't get behind a movie where it's conceivable that I'd turn down the lead actress (one strike against the Dark Knight.) Meanwhile, Disney/Pixar has brought us The Incredibles, the best superhero movie not (explicitly) based on a comic. Fantastic Four reboot, let's go.

4. NO I MEAN SERIOUSLY IT ISN'T A BIG DEAL
Seriously.

*And the embarrassing admission of the day: I've actually written on those message boards. A pretty fair amount, too. I even weighed in on a Tigra discussion one time. Hey, I never said I wasn't part of the least common denominator.

**Embarrassing admission numero dos.

***Aaaaaand the trifecta! Attaboy!

103 Disney-Marvel Solicitations

noreply@blogger.com (Paul DeBenedetto) — Mon, 31 Aug 2009 17:00:00 +0000

As many of you have obviously heard Disney announced its acquisition of Marvel Comics this morning. It's a huge move; possibly the biggest comics story in years! The ramifications of a deal like this could be long-reaching, from licensing to films, and beyond. In fact, Marvel has already churned out their solicitations for upcoming comics. Revamped: Disney style! I don't know how fanboys will react to this stuff, but I for one think it's absolutely-- ABSOLUTELY!-- a step in the right direction.

**********************************

(Big thanks once again to my good friend and collaborator Matt Occhuizzo for wasting his time creating these images for me. Please go here and check out how good he really is.)

102 Happy Birthday to the King

noreply@blogger.com (Paul DeBenedetto) — Fri, 28 Aug 2009 15:03:00 +0000

Covers via CoverBrowser.com

101 Here Are Some Books That Have Pictures In Them That I Read This Wednesday (8/26/2009)

noreply@blogger.com (Paul DeBenedetto) — Thu, 27 Aug 2009 15:56:00 +0000

Welcome to HASBTHPITTIRTW. Each Thursday I'll be reviewing some comics I bought the day before from my local comic shop, Bergen Street Comics.

This week I'mma go halfsies on y'all. (Imagine a thug who said "halfsies"? That is just ridiculous.)

Detective Comics #856
Written by Greg Rucka
Art by J.H. Williams III

Jeez, I wish I had more good stuff to say about this. Honestly, I liked the first issue a lot, my interest waned after the second, and now I'm just flipping through it to look at J.H. Williams' stunning artwork. I generally think that Greg Rucka is a hell of a writer but there's not much else to say about this than... it's just really, really boring.

Herogasm #4

Written by Garth Ennis
Art by John McRea and Keith Burns

The unmitigated gall. The brazen impudence. The cojones, if you will, of thinking you can have an issue of this book, Herogasm, without showing any heroes orgasming, or doing blow off of each other's laughably giant breasts and cocks, or-- you know what? I'm not even posting its cover here. I'm that offended. You think we're here for story, Ennis? You think that's why we're here? We're here for the suckin' and fuckin', boy. We're here to point and laugh, and show our friends, and get weird looks on the train. This was the kind of comic I'd love when I was in high school and it still gets a chuckle out of that part of me today; the part of me that wishes it was still acceptable for me to do ecstasy on New Years and drive around Staten Island throwing cookies at the house of this kid we hated (fuck you, Ralph, you're still a dick.) The scene where some guy is forced to put a condom on the Vice President-- ok, that was kind of funny. But seriously: get your shit on lock, guys. This ain't no Bendis comic. I ain't payin' you for exposition.

Batman and Robin #3
Written by Grant Morrison
Art by Frank Quitely

And with this Frank Quitely's run on Batman and Robin comes to a (hopefully temporary) end, as does most of my interest in this comic. Don't get me wrong, I'll definitely keep reading; I like Morrison quite a bit, and even though he's hardly ever paired with an appropriate artist I usually like his writing enough to enjoy his books. Come on, though-- Philip Tan? He's definitely competent but following Quitely is like being the guy who goes on after Eddie Murphy. How am I supposed to build up any sort of excitement for that?

Anyway, there's so much to like about this issue, and really the entire series up to this point. Morrison's Pyg is just disturbing, and the scene of him doing a striptease in front of Damian is near perfect comic-bookery when mixed with Quitely's artwork. It's generally a pretty ballsy move to add a new villain to Batman's rogues gallery, and it usually brings disastrous results (see Blackest Night: Batman #1 for a veritable cornucopia of awful bat-villains literally brought back to life) but neither the Bat-books nor anything else D.C. puts out has this sort of deranged sociopath. That niche somehow hasn't been filled until now. Joker, of course, almost fits the bill, but it's different. Pyg is unhinged in the same way the bad guy in a slasher movie is unhinged. Every single time he's on the page there's a sort of apprehension one gets while reading him; it's unnerving, really. Unpleasant. Morrison and Quitely just may have created the next great villain.

Morrison again proves why Damian should only be written by him. The annoying, immature brat in Batman proper is nowhere to be seen here; instead, we get a brash young daredevil, not too immature but rather too prideful to let Dick lead him in the field. For all of his faults he wants to do the right thing and honor his father's legacy; he just doesn't want to be following anyone else while he does it. His reaction when Dick saves his life sums up his character all at once:

...there was a girl... Did... Did you just save my life?

He's young, he's stubborn, and he may just be in a little over his head-- but he's ultimately good, and he's doing it for the right reasons. At least, for now.

Dick is done crying and complaining after Alfred's chat last issue. He's got a job to do, and it demands a confidence that can not afford to be shaken. He's a hero. Morrison writes him as one, and Quitely draws him as one. This is not the Dick Grayson from Judd Winick's book, constantly doubting himself and questioning his role. He's no longer a child or student. He's a man, and he's the teacher now. And he's acting like it.

One last note on Quitely: I'm going to miss him dropping in those little sound effects within the art. At it's least obvious it's almost subliminal, as it was in this issue. The "BANG" effects spelled out in blood were something I definitely noticed, but not noticed, you know? Put it this way: I read a review by Caleb Mozzocco praising its use and had to go back and re-read it before saying "oh yeah, I remember that." This is far from a slight; rather, it speaks volumes of Quitely's mastery of pliability within the medium, having it work the way he wants it to.

Tucker Stone did a piece on deadlines and standards for ComiXology. The gist is that if these stories came out on their own time, in their own formats, not following any specific "house style" or rules we'd invariably be happier with the work that's produced, and there may be no better example than Batman & Robin. Quitely's work is just too good to be on time. I know, I've complained a little in the past about deadlines and why it's important to fulfill expectations, and I still think that's true. Hey, I'd be happy with DC extending the deadlines, if they told us, "listen, we're not putting out Batman books for a few months but when we do it'll be drawn by Frank

Quitely, written by Grant Morrison, and come in at around 120 pages." It would be exciting, in the same way waiting for Asterios Polyp, or waiting for the next Chris Ware book is exciting. Of course no one else would want that, because while we all complain about late books and shitty quality some people don't understand that a lot of times they're mutually exclusive. So instead this is what we get: breaking up the greatest comics tandem since Lee and Kirby.

Fantastic Four #570
Written by Jonathan Hickman
Art by Dale Eaglesham

Or... THE BEEFY ADVENTURES OF REED RICHARDS!

Seriously, what is with that? Old men can not get that big. Have we not learned from Barry Bonds? Reed Richards is the new poster child for anabolic steroids.

All kidding aside seeing Reed Richards looking like Thor is more than a little jarring. I think the rest of the book looks pretty nice; Eaglesham comes to us from working on JSA with Geoff Johns, and I think his neo-classic style works well for books like this. You know, books where the main characters all seem like they should be drinking milk and going to bed early. It's an innocent style, pleasing to the eye while fitting the tone of the book. Ben Grimm looked great, and the fight and lab scenes looked almost Kirby-esque. Still, the mass of the figures is just large enough to be off-putting.

I hope the art is something that just takes getting a little used to because Jonathan Hickman absolutely killed it on this issue. Loved Reed's brilliant self-assurance, loved Ben and Johnny's interactions, and I thought the ending was dynamite. Every once in a while a new creator will come onto a book and make me excited for next month's issue. Hickman and the Fantastic Four are now a pull list no-doubter.

100 One Hundred Posts

noreply@blogger.com (Paul DeBenedetto) — Tue, 25 Aug 2009 19:17:00 +0000

Well it's taken me about eight months but I finally broke into triple digit posts. To be honest with you I thought I'd do this for a few weeks, get bored when no one commented, and go back to playing sudoku at work but I've been kind of surprised by the response I've gotten. Don't get me wrong, I'm not struggling to moderate my comments everyday; it's not like I'm taking the internet(TM) by storm or anything. Still, I get comments here and there, and I get emails, and I get feedback from a lot of people, and that's all really pretty nice. It's motivated me to continue writing here on a somewhat regular basis.

I wanted to come up with some big flashy post when I reached one hundred, something funny and meme-ish and viral, or whatever. I didn't do that. I think instead I'll just thank some of the people who've contributed or linked to me, and post some links to my favorite entries.

So, thanks to my buddy Matt Occhuizzo, who did the photo work on my Spidey/Obama post. That shit was huge and it's really because he lowered his standards to work with me on that idea.

To Matt Siblo, who not only took me to the only comic shop in DC, and is not only putting me up for Baltimore Comic Con, but contributed the clever Fifty Word Watchemen Review, and the recap of Art Spiegelman's lecture at George Washington University. Matt will be contributing more in the future, and we're in the midst of working on another project together. He and I worked together on an online music zine in the early two-thousands, and it's always a pleasure to have my writing next to his for everyone to see.

Thanks to Chelsea Bahr, who thought comics were dumb when I met her but was open-minded enough to read Black Hole when I bought it for her birthday, and even came with me to New York Comic Con, writing a few guest posts for me along the way.

To Jen Drake, who also wrote a guest post for Comic Con, and who bugged me enough times to start blogging that I actually listened.

Thanks to my good buddy Dana Gluck, who has a tremendous vintage fashion blog, Indian Summer Vintage. She's like me, except with fashion instead of comics, and good writing skills instead of shitty.

Thanks to my even bigger buddy (Edit: THAT IS NOT A CRACK AT HIS WEIGHT, IT IS A REFLECTION OF OUR BUDDYNESS) Chris Campbell, for linking me over at Spout every time I make a crack about some dumb superhero movie.

Many, many, MANY thanks to Karen Green, who was kind enough to answer some of my silly questions for an interview. I urge you to read her column at comiXology.

To Garrett Martin who, along with Hilary Brown, writes the fantastic Shazhmmm... blog.

To Zenescope, for being a crappy publisher and giving me the idea me to write this.

Special thanks to When Fangirls Attack, for linking to that post, and other posts of mine.

Thanks also to Heidi MacDonald, Tom Spurgeon, Val D'Orazio, and a ton of other comics bloggers who have linked to my posts and are probably too high profile to even be reading this right now.

Thanks to everybody who's read and commented. I know this post might come off as hokey, overdramatic, or unprofessional but I don't really give a shit. It's surprised me how much I've stuck with this thing and one hundred posts, to me, is a landmark. So if it's overdramatic, c'est la vie. I grew up reading Chris Claremont. If you're looking for someone to blame, blame him.

Anyway, here's one of the very first posts I'd ever written for the blog, and probably my favorite. It's a post about "Your First Time"; your first comic book, or the first time you ever read a comic. It's personal, and it's nice, and it reminds me of why I like comics every time I re-read it. Enjoy.

Other posts:

Comics, Sexuality, and Parenthood

"Getting Them to Read Comics"

Censorship vs. Personal Responsibility

Patriotism vs. Morality

Cartoon porn = Jail Time?

Abstract Comics

Watchmen Review

Who Licenses the Watchmen?

Asterios Polyp

Swallow Me Whole

"The DeBenedetto Classics": A (Proposed) Comics Canon

Blogging the Bat #1

099 A.D.: New Orleans After the Deluge

noreply@blogger.com (Paul DeBenedetto) — Thu, 20 Aug 2009 16:54:00 +0000

Tragedy effects different people in different ways. When Josh Neufeld saw the effects of Hurricane Katrina on the Gulf Coast he immediately volunteered with the Red Cross in Mississippi, training for four weeks and working twelve hour days delivering meals to Biloxi families. He blogged about his experiences, and eventually collected his entries, reader comments, and supplemental material into the memoir Katrina Came Calling: A Gulf Coast Deployment. Neufeld found a way to deal with this horrible tragedy by understanding it-- physically being there, and documenting it. This eventually inspired his Smith Magazine webcomic, A.D.: New Orleans After the Deluge, which is collected and expanded here in print.

I've talked about this project briefly in the past. During New York Comic Con I blogged about the Comics and New Media panel, which actually ended up being an hour devoted to everything A.D. At the time I was dissapointed because I had gone in expecting a discussion on Print vs. New Media, but it admittedly got me excited for Neufeld's work, and I immediately looked it up after going home.

I said it before and I'll say it again: I think the art is gorgeous. It's what initially drew me to the story, and it's what kept me interested enough to plow through all fifteen chapters (here broken down into five sections) in a day. It's a smart technique Neufeld employs, choosing not to fully color each page but rather use a set of colors to create the tone of the scene. It's quite effective; on pages with sweltering heat he uses oranges and yellows that almost make the reading experience stuffy. The dark nights and sludgey water in the flooded areas are soaked in a dark, flat green. I can see this being an ideal approach in the serial environment, allowing you to add punch to the comic as well as work quickly and easily to get the work out on time.

The choice of New Orleans is an interesting one, considering Neufeld himself volunteered in Mississippi. I would assume it was chosen to provide a greater sense of understanding for the reader; when most people think of Katrina they think of New Orleans and the ninth ward, which was the centerpiece of most news channel coverage. Here New Orleans is a stand-in for all of the areas effected even while telling the stories of specific people Neufeld met or spoke to for the work. The benefit of using these characters is that each of their stories comes off feeling very personal. When Denise, stranded at the New Orleans Convention Center, begins to fear for her safety and the safety of those around her it's heartbreaking; not so much a fear for her safety (she is, after all, recounting her story for the author) but rather a reaction to seeing the immense human suffering through her eyes. Abbas and Darnell, who are stuck in a flood after waiting out the storm in Abbas' market, convey this feeling of hope; just by sheer will they can beat Mother Nature. But then-- of course they can't. This is the real world, and their story couldn't possibly end any other way.

I did feel that some of the characters could have been used more. Kwame, for example, seemed to me like a character whose story could have been used more. His perspective as a kid dealing with this massive event spoke volumes when it was used. Neufeld does a good job of wrapping up his story succinctly at the end of the book, but overall I would have liked to see more of him. Ditto for the Doctor, who at times seemed to be shown just to add in an extra character, not really adding a tremendous amount to the story. Also, the drawback to using real life people, and applying their stories to the page unchanged, is that at times the dialogue comes off a little hokey. For example, Denise, trying to wait out the storm in her apartment while the walls crumble down upon her, screams "I'm gonna die up in this bitch!", and while this may have been her actual reaction it comes off sounding odd when placed in with the rest of the work.

Still, this approach works to Neufeld's advantage overall because it speaks to the integrity of his work. The storytelling is similar to Joe Sacco, but with a straightforward approach that makes it more reader-friendly. As a comic it's pretty good; an above average work from a solid cartoonist. But Neufeld's not just a storyteller here, he's a documentarian, and it is in this role where Neufeld and A.D. are a complete success.

Publisher: Pantheon Books

098 Blogging the Bat #3: Paul Punks Out at the End, You Gotta See It

noreply@blogger.com (Paul DeBenedetto) — Fri, 14 Aug 2009 15:05:00 +0000

"I believe Bruce would have 'smoked' the place... meaning he'd drop a few flash bang grenades, and the joint would have emptied in a panic. But he'd leave a Batarang in the wall to let them know he was there."
Subtlety. The art of getting across information without beating the point over someone's head like a knuckle dragging caveman. Some writers have it in spades (Ed Brubaker immediately comes to mind) while some writers seemingly have no understanding of it.

The above quote is from the inner monologue of Dick Grayson, on the first page of Batman #689, written by Judd Winick and drawn by Mark Bagley. Now it's clear that Winick knows what subtlety is; he gives an example of it right there, the kind of moment other writers have relished through the years writing Batman. Batman's intimidation factor goes far beyond just kicking the crap out of everyone; he's cerebral, and he knows the power of the symbol of "the bat" in Gotham. And so, yes, by using that line in his script Winick acknowledges that he knows what subtlety is.

He just chooses not to use it, ever. It's not his style. The very next page is a splash of Dick doing the exact opposite of what is described above; vaulting onto the scene, he makes a show of breaking up an illegal gambling ring, shouting out exposition in the process. The caption below this scene, another part of Dick's inner monologue, reads simply: "I'm a born entertainer."

This isn't the first "entertainer" reference we've seen for Dick-Batman (Tucker: "DickMan"? Better or worse than "DickBat"?) Morrison has Alfred give an amazing little soliloquy to Dick when he's feeling overwhelmed in Batman and Robin #2 (which I talked about here) in which he essentially tells Dick "the show must go on". Here, though, it sounds like Winick's inner-monologue, not Dick's. He believes all of that smoke and shadows shit is for the birds, and that what's putting butts in the seats is the action. Surprising, then, that we would once again be subjected to an Alfred and Dick whinefest back at the batcave (or maybe the BatBasement? What do they call this new place?). Three issues into the run and we're still dealing with grief from the first issue. I understand that the grieving process after the death of a loved one is a long, arduous journey within ourselves; that, unfortunately, is not making it to the page. What's making it to the page is the same tired, ham-fisted look at sadness we've seen the previous two issues. This time, though, we learn that Bruce liked to draw as a little kid! I'd have no problem with the lack of action if A) there was substance to replace it and B) Winick hadn't already sold us in that first scene that it's all we're going to get. Hey, I understand that viewpoint. It makes sense to me. So please, senseless action, go for it; but don't try to mask it in overwrought melodrama because that shit gets real old real fast. It's like the same shitty hamburger that a hamburger joint's been selling for years, but every once in a while they add something different. Like, we're supposed to go "OK I GET IT, THEY'RE FUCKING SAD. CAN WE GET THEM TO CHEER UP PLE-- oh, Bruce used to draw? What an interesting look into his childhood wow." I'm not buying it, and I'm not even sure if you're really trying too hard to sell it to me. I'd like to take my business elsewhere, please.

Throughout the rest of the issue we're treated to Penguin taking the new and innovative approach of hiring someone to kill Batman, as well as another Two-Face and henchman scene. I can't believe I didn't notice this last issue, because looking it over again it's very obvious that he's using these two (Two-Face and "Hench") as a father-son analogue as well. So we have Alfred and Dick, Two-Face and some henchman that was just made up for this story, and Commissioner Gordon and some cop that was just made up for this story. See that? In order to fit the father/son theme he wants to present Winick had to make up two characters to wedge in there.

Ah, subtlety.

**********************

A quick note, if I can, on this "Yellow Hat Guy" nonsense. For those not in "the know", the Yellow Hat Guy is some fanboy blogger who, without getting into any specific details, decided to be a dick to Rob Liefeld in person at a recent convention, mocking his (in)ability to draw and demanding an apology (!!) for Liefeld's work on the Heroes Reborn reboot in the nineties.

Now it takes a lot for me to actually DEFEND ROB LIEFELD but honestly... it was a dickhead move. Yeah, no shit, Rob Liefeld can't draw. Got it. Heard it a million times. Hell, I recently flipped through an old Image comic and laughed about his depiction of "feet" to my roommate. It can not be overstated how bad he is.

But come on, he's taking time out of his schedule to go to a convention where he actually does have some real fans who actually do want a sketch or an autograph. If I ever saw him, even if I was ever introduced to him, even if we had an hour long chat, I would never have the audacity or classlessness to talk shit to his face. It's not a matter of being an "internet tough guy", it's just basic respect.

I guess the reason I bring this up here is because-- hey, I have a lot of fun at Judd Winick's expense. I don't want to come off as a hypocrite, but I mean, I have a tag called "Judd Winick is truly terrible", and I started Blogging the Bat specifically to make fun of his work. Criticism, even sarcastic vitriol, has its time and place. That's what this blog is here for. At a convention, where a man has taken time and expense to shop his craft, is not an appropriate venue for that type of dumb behavior.

All that said, I still think Puck would make a better writer.

097 Here Are Some Books That Have Pictures In Them That I Read This Wednesday (8/12/2009)

noreply@blogger.com (Paul DeBenedetto) — Thu, 13 Aug 2009 17:44:00 +0000

Blah, blah, without a strong rhyme to step to, etc. Sorry. This feature's been on hiatus, as I've been finding it harder and harder to get to Bergen Street Comics on Wednesdays.

A pretty good week for comics, though. Reviews of Blackest Night-related books and "Blogging the Bat #3" should each be up within the next few days.

The Amazing Spider-Man #602
Written by Fred Van Lente
Art by Barry Kitson

A good way to tell if your comic is worth reading is what I call "the acid test". It's like the litmus test but this one has to do with the amount of guys being burned alive by acid in your comic. So, for example, let's say x=amount of guys being burned alive by acid, right? So, if x=0 you have a problem. See? That means there are no guys being burned alive by acid in your comic. Now, if x is GREATER THAN OR EQUAL TO 1-- well, now we've got something we can work with. In this comic x=2 (but really just 1, because we all know our boy Parker isn't going down like that.)

Another good way to tell if your book is good is if the Chameleon goes all weird and "Red Dragon-y" on people. This is one seriously creepy Spider-Man comic. Van Lente, you had me at "hello." (That's from the movie Jerry Maguire starring Tom Cruise, you guys.)

The Incredible Hercules #132
Written by Greg Pak and Fred Van Lente
Art by Reilly Brown

Wow, really? Fred Van Lente again? Look at you, guy. And you know what? I liked this one too.

Van Lente shares writing duties with Greg Pak here, whom I only know of from 2007's Planet Hulk, and Reilly Brown on pencils. I've been reading so many positive things about this comic that I decided to finally pick it up, and not knowing anything about it I was surprised that the tone was so... goofy. And I mean that in a good way. Pak and Van Lente got a serious chuckle out of me here. Brown's artwork fits the mood; it's light while still presenting the battle scenes in a serious tone. One of the better books Marvel's putting out right now.

X-Men Forever #5
Written by Chris Claremont
Art by Tom Grummett

OK, so this comic has been getting some shockingly positive reviews. Shockingly positive. I say "shockingly" (twice, even) for two reasons: first, the collective eyeroll from the comics blogosphere when it was announced was, frankly, palpable; and second, it feels really dated. Tons of exposition, thought balloons, Gambit-- the whole thing screams "nineties".

The weird thing, though, is that the comic really is kind of good. I mean it isn't really; that dated feeling does not go away, no matter how many issues you read. But it's kind of a fun read. Maybe it's the nostalgia talking (right down to Grummett's Byrne-esque artwork) but this isn't completely terrible. You know: fun. Remember when comics were fun? Sure, Wolverine's dead, there are two Storms, and the covers never match the action in the comic much less the costume design of the characters, but hey-- raise your hand if you're having a good time. Oh come on. You, in the back, talking about how "full of fail" Rob Liefeld is; you know you like this comic. Now go take a shower.

Adventure Comics #1

Written by Geoff Johns
Art by Franis Manapul

I've said it before and I'll say it again: I like Geoff Johns and you can go fuck yourself. That being said is this book really necessary? Did we need an ongoing Superboy feature, with a Legion of Superheroes backup? I think it's been proven time and time again that no one cares about the Legion of Superheroes these days, and while they have a pretty amazing history and to me have always been part of what's made DC's history so great, having their main selling point be that they're the backup of another, more popular hero's story isn't really saying much about people's perception of the team.

I don't like Manapul's art-- he's one of those guys that makes everybody look the same-- and the story itself is a little boring. Conner Kent is back and he's decided to follow in his cousin Kal's footsteps by doing Superman type stuff. That includes going to a school where they teach animals how to fuck, contemplating the ramifications of forcing himself upon a helpless woman, and playing catch with his dog (I could have used more Krypto in this story. Big Krypto fan. Remember that story in Superman last year that was about how Krypto is a fucking ferocious animal? Favorite story of 2008.) I know it was the first issue but absolutely nothing happens. He saves some woman from drowning, that's it? That's what we need a Superboy comic for? But then we learn that really it's about how Conner is afraid he's going to become Lex Luthor when he grows up. I suppose that's sort of a conflict. A story about a kid who is afraid that perhaps he might eventually one day become a supervillain, maybe, in the future. It's a real page turner.

Superman Secret Files 2009
by Various

This one was actually bought by the ten year old living inside of Paul's psyche, so you'll have to ask him how it was.

Ultimate Comics Spiderman #1
Written by Brian Michael Bendis
Art by David Lafuente

Ultimate Comics Avengers #1
Written by Mark Miller
Art by Carlos Pacheco

The Ultimate line, when originally conceived, was just a genius move by Marvel. Seriously. It's like they finally came to the conclusion that printing money was illegal and there was no way around it, so they buckled down at one of their summits or retreats or whatever it is CB Cebulski is always talking about on Twitter and came up with this, the closest possible thing to counterfeiting hundred dollar bills. The Ultimate line launched ten years ago with Ultimate Spider-Man and it wasn't just good storytelling any comics fan could enjoy but it was universally accessible. Non-comics fans could pick up the first issue and instantly follow along, as it retold Spider-Man's origin story for a modern audience, and younger readers could pick it up because Mark Bagley's art mixed with Bendis' quirky dialogue were like a 1-2 punch of Degrassi and Drake and Josh.

Soon Mark Millar and Bryan Hitch launched the Ultimates, their take on the Avengers for the Ultimate universe, and while to me it came off a little too "mature" and testosterone filled for my taste (I like my superhero decadence to be wearing a green ring, thank you very much) but there's no denying it was wildly popular and successful. This was followed by Ultimates 2, also by Millar and Hitch, which continued this success; and Jeph Loeb's awful Ultimates 3 run not withstanding I think the Ultimates and Ultimate Spider-Man will go down as two of the best comics of the 21st century. Marvel, ever the opportunist, and with both their 75th anniversary and the Ultimate line's 10th anniversary on the horizon, decided to reboot the entire line and cash in once again on Ultimate Hysteria.

Funny thing, though. After picking up these two issues I'm noticing it's not a true "reboot", but rather a re-numbering. It's continuing the same storylines from Ultimatum, but weeks/months later in continuity, and labelled #1. See, the thing that was so appealing about the Ultimates line when it started was that anyone could pick up an issue and understand what was going on. It was like picking up Amazing Fantasy #15 back in 1962. You were getting in on the ground floor!

This is nothing like that. Not one person who hasn't read Ultimate comics in the past can pick these books up and enjoy them. I might know who Gwen is, and why she's living with Spider-Man and his aunt, but what if I had never read Ultimate Spider-Man in the past? I would be confused as hell as to why this kid's little fuck buddy is living with him at sixteen. That's just irresponsible parenting. And why is Samuel L. Jackson wearing an eye patch? (Side Note: I'm not sure if it's funny or disappointing that in this digital age we live in I immediately thought to type "iPatch".)

The books aren't bad. It's especially refreshing to see Millar back on Ultimates, albeit with a new name. I just don't know if their tactic of calling this a "reboot" is going to help them move more books when it's really just as confusing and convoluted as the "pre-boot".

096 Abstract Comics! Maybe?

noreply@blogger.com (Paul DeBenedetto) — Tue, 11 Aug 2009 14:10:00 +0000

Fantagraphics' recent release Abstract Comics, while nicely designed and filled with some fantastic artwork (kudos to editor Andrei Molotiu and the Fantagraphics team), brings up an interesting argument I've already seen touched on, and one that I wanted to explore a little deeper here: at what point do you stop calling something comics and start calling it... well, something else?

Abstract comics are what is described in the books introduction as:

"sequential art whose panels contain little to no representational imagery, or that tells no stories other than those resulting from the transformation and interaction of shapes across a comics page."

Some of these works are unmistakeably comics, such as this excerpt from R. Crumb:

and James Kochalka's contribution:

And just so you don't think I'm basing my definition of comics solely on what can be interpreted as the "traditional" panel style here's an excerpt from Bill Shut, which I would also argue is a comic:

But what about this page from Patrick McDonnell:

or this one from Billy Mavreas:

Are these comics? Yes, I know that choosing one page from a group can be considered a little dubious-- especially when this 208 page book is taken as a whole-- but I specifically chose these pages because to me they illustrated most what I consider "un-comics-like" about some of the works.

Scott McCloud defines comics in his now classic Understanding Comics as "juxtaposed pictorial and other images in deliberate sequence intended to convey information and/or provide an aesthetic response in the viewer." Now, even if we expand McCloud's definition to include one-panel comics or those with implied sequence would these examples fit that definition? (Note: while it's true many of McCloud's assumptions on this subject require a bit of expansion I personally feel his basic definition here is correct, and suits this analysis well.) I'd say that many of the sequences aren't very deliberate, nor even implied; almost none of them convey any information; and as far as an aesthetic response-- ok, there's that, but couldn't this be said about a great painting? There doesn't seem to be any defining characteristic that makes some of this work "comics". There isn't anything wrong with abstract style in the medium; one might argue, though, that abstraction is the exact reason a definition such as McCloud's needs to be put into place.

I don't believe in suppressing artistic expression; art, in general, should adhere to its own rules. Abstraction, however, seems to reject any sort of standardization whatsoever, and while this is acceptable from a purely artistic standpoint one must remember that comics are also a literary medium. As Douglas Wolk says in Reading Comics, we're-- well, we're reading comics:

"That's the process: holding them in our hands, turning their pages, getting stories from them as we burrow from one end to the other."

While Wolk admits to this being a slightly unfair comparison-comics are certainly less verbal than prose- he doesn't out-and-out dismiss it (nor should he; it's an important distinction.) So how abstract can the comics form really get?After all, when reading there needs to be a certain linear quality, something we can follow along with-- or else what are we interpreting?

This, of course, creates limitations. Many artists claim their work is art simply because they say it is; that art is subjective and its classification must be treated as such. Is this, then, an explanation that can be applied to comics, or is comics more like, say, cubism: a distinctly defined style within the limitless category of "art"? Is there an answer to the "is this comics" question, or is that not even the point?

Listen, who do I look like? Gary Panter? Frank Santoro? I'm not sure there is an answer, but it's an interesting debate. Check out this book and come to your own conclusions.

For a look at some of the other artwork involved, as well as a look into the process, check out the Abstract Comics Blog.

095 Thoughts on the Perceived Inaccessibility of Mainstream Comics

noreply@blogger.com (Paul DeBenedetto) — Wed, 05 Aug 2009 17:47:00 +0000

The cynicism of the comics fan isn't confined to the blog and message board crowd. Case in point: while having a conversation with my friend Chelsea, a newly converted comics fan, I couldn't help but feel her frustration when discussing the ins and outs of comics continuity, and how inaccessible a lot of mainstream comics really are.

Certainly over the past few years we've heard Joe Quesada and Dan DiDio (head honchos of Marvel and DC, respectively) spout things like "jumping on point" and "new reader friendly" when talking about their event books-- but what do those things mean? Are they truly accurate statements, or just platitudes? At this late in the game, with 50-60 years of continuity (or even, um, not continuity), is there such thing as a "new reader friendly" comic?

Chelsea brought up the story of Hal Jordan as Parallax, from Green Lantern. She's recently read the "Sinestro Corps War" storyline and had noticed that plot point brought up often, so where, she wondered, would she be able to read that story? Where, indeed. Does she start at Zero Hour? Well, if so, I'd probably need to explain "Emerald Twilight", right? But then, that wouldn't make sense without first explaining Coast City, would it? And what lead up to Coast City's destruction? Why, the Death and Return of Superman!

Confused? I realize that when looking at the world of mainstream comics from that angle-- an unending tapestry of weird characters and stories-- it becomes a little overbearing. Why care about a character that's already been developed? Can you ever truly grasp a story if it started years before you ever started reading comics? To put it simply: if we're being told that the corruption of Hal Jordan made such a large impact in the DC universe, then not being able to learn or read about that story (Wikipedia not withstanding) creates a sort of distance from the characters.

And that's true, if you look at it from a certain perspective. Chelsea has no real reason to give a shit about Hal Jordan being blown away by Sinestro if she hasn't read, like, every issue of Green Lantern since 1993. I get that. That's why you have to look at it differently.

Mainstream comics, at least the good ones, deal with certain themes and archetypes that occur over and over again throughout the span of a book's run. So while, yes, it's almost impossible to get character development from "day one" of the book it's almost a moot point since A) these books are written by different creative teams, with different views and perspective on the characters, as well as re-writes and "retroactive continuity" that make previous stories almost worthless, and B) the reoccurring themes in the story create a sort of "roaming characterization" anyway, in which you're constantly being reintroduced to the characters. There's a reason Geoff Johns starts every GL story with the "My name is Hal Jordan" narration; it serves as a sort of reintroduction to the character each time. So don't assume that since you haven't read the entire history of Green Lantern that you're somehow "missing something"; that isn't really the point. Each story provides the character development needed for that specific story, or at least it should, since that's how the genre really works: reoccurring themes and motifs (though admittedly, some titles are more accessible than others.) And I feel that even as a long-time reader I've benefited from that repetition.

And really, what is the theme of Sinestro Corps War? Willpower vs. fear. How do they present that? With a very distinct dichotomy, setting up the Sinestro Corps as the anti-Green Lanterns. How does this effect our heroes? Well, as is explained, at one point Hal Jordan overcame corruption by great fear, the kind of fear that grips some of the other corpsmen (specifics? Not important to the story.) It is with his leadership that they learn to overcome fear. Now, read any other story arc. It's essentially the same themes repeated over and over again in every Green Lantern story: overcoming fear.

Is that too shallow? I don't think so. It's just how stories grow. If you're interested in that one story, if you like it enough to keep reading, that's when you start to learn more. That's when you start to discover the history of the characters, the stuff that gets you attached to the story on a personal level. That's when it becomes more engaging. Sure, I can tell you the moral of the story in thirty seconds, but why should you care, right?

Why do you watch TV shows for six, seven, eight seasons? Why do you sit through two and three hour movies? Why do you spend weeks reading a five hundred page book? Just stick with it. If you want to really care about the characters read more about them-- but don't backtrack. Don't worry yourself too much about their past, because if you read the book long enough it'll begin to come together.

And hey, then you can go to next year's Comic-Con as Katma Tui. Nerd.

094 Asterios Polyp

noreply@blogger.com (Paul DeBenedetto) — Thu, 30 Jul 2009 20:05:00 +0000

"This is his first graphic novel." So ends the author bio of David Mazzucchelli on the dust jacket of Asterios Polyp. One line, separated from the rest of the paragraph, seemingly to let that statement sink in. The man who made his bones drawing classic Batman and Daredevil stories, becoming one of the most famous comic artists in the world, as well as illustrating an adaptation of Paul Auster's City of Glass, which was voted the ultimate New York graphic novel by the city's top cartoonists and comics minds in New York Magazine-- this man has never put together a long form narrative of his own. It's even greater a pleasure, then, that Asterios Polyp is one of the finest comics I've read not only this year but in recent memory.

Polyp is the story of a depressed "paper architect" from New York who, after losing his wife and his home, decides to take whatever money he has left and live his life in the sticks. Along the way we're treated to the story of how Polyp got to that point, narrated by his brother Ignazio, who died in the womb and is seen throughout the book following Asterios, and even haunting his dreams.

The characters in this story are all very unique, having distinct lettering and even word balloons that separate each personality apart. Asterios for example speaks in rigid boxes that compliment the order and symmetry in his life. His wife, Hana, speaks with little balloons, the tails of which hardly jut out at all, as if she's almost struggling to be noticed with each word. It isn't just there, though; Mazzucchelli is a master of multiple styles and showcases each of them here. At a party, pointing out the different personalities of each character he draws each of them a different way, from the basic to the abstract (one character is even drawn using only letters of the alphabet.) In this scene Asterios and Hana meet for the first time, and here there's an interesting passage:

Maybe one person's construction of the world could influence someone else's. This would suggest it's possible for someone to freely alter his own perception of reality in order to overlap with that of another.

As they begin to interact with one another Asterios' form, here a grouping of blue cylinders constructed into a body, begins to meld with that of the ever out of the spotlight Hana's, as she finds it natural to allow her perception to become one with his. Later, when the two argue, their forms begin to revert back to their own stark differences, and at times of real contention the two halves of the room are colored in different styles, clashing wildly on the paper. The result is a jarring image intended to promote the tensity of the moment.

Asterios Polyp, the character, is a bit of a mystery to me, even after a few readings. At times he comes off self-centered, almost egotistical, but at other times that attitude seems more like over-education; he isn't a bad guy, he's just cursed with too many opinions on too many topics. His relationship with his wife Hana is indicative of this confusion. While at times being very sweet, it's clear that he is incapable of compromise in his perception of things. The rigid dualities he sees in life ("All art can be divided into two categories: factual and fictional.") and the almost stubborn way he works in definitives ("Anything that is not functional is merely decorative.") are the reasons he eventually drives the constantly compromising Hana away, and it isn't until he later learns to accept these differences in perception that he can understand Hana and return to her.

Mazzucchelli succeeds in creating a comic that could only be a comic. There's no cinematic quality about it, and it's far too visual a work to make much sense in prose. Rather what Mazzucchelli does here is take advantage of the medium in ways that most creators seem to have trouble doing these days. While most artists or writers are content in doing "the comic version of _____" Mazzucchelli's style here explores the artform itself, and by drawing from modernist influences even begins to explore the realm of fine art. He does all of this while completely turning traditional comics on it's head in such a refreshing, original way that the minute it hit the shelves it immediately became required reading for any and all who are interested in comics studies. Succinctly stated, Asterios Polyp is demanding of the comics form.

The story ends with as close a happy ending as one would expect in a book like this, and while some part of me thinks of it as a bit of a cop out it doesn't really ruin the effect of the work. Overall the book is thought-provoking and visually stunning, completely worthy of all of the recognition it's bound to receive over the next year, but at the very least it's a fantastic (first) effort by David Mazzucchelli.

Publisher: Pantheon Books

093 San Diego Comic-Con!

noreply@blogger.com (Paul DeBenedetto) — Mon, 27 Jul 2009 19:25:00 +0000

I didn't go!

But here are some items of note!

Marvel Buys Marvelman
Marvelman, the famed creation of UK comics artist Mick Anglo, has been in a sort of "legal limbo" for quite some time now. Marvel announced over the weekend they they have finally bought the rights to the character.
WHAT DOES THIS MEAN First of all, it's about damn time. I've only heard rumors of this comic's greatness, having not actually ever read it. At one point in the eighties the title of the comic was changed to Miracleman, since Marvelman apparently violated Marvel's trademark. Among the contributors to this ongoing story was Alan Moore (who because of the trademark incident vowed never to work for Marvel) and Neil Gaiman, who partly owned the rights to the character. To read more about the litigation surrounding the character go here, because I have neither the time nor the inclination to get into all of the intricacies, but the long and short of it is that we haven't gotten any reprints or new stories about the character in quite some time. Frankly, I'm not really interested in new stories unless they somehow get Moore or Gaiman to write them (the rumor is Neil will be involved), but I'd like to get my hand on some reprints. Unfortunately there's no word yet on whether the Moore/Gaiman Miracleman days will be reprinted, due to more legal issues. Robot 6 has a great primer on the character here.
WHY DO I CARE ABOUT THIS Hey, you liked Watchmen, right? Moore does that "superhero deconstruction" thing here, too (and apparently to even greater effect.) Some have called his run on the book one of the greatest comics stories of all time, and frankly I'd like to see what the fuss is about.

New Bone Stories in the Works
Jeff Smith announced that there would be new stories featuring the popular characters in his Bone series. Smith will work on the art while the stories themselves will be written by Tom Sniegoski.
WHAT DOES THIS MEAN Smith's Bone is not only a great all-ages story but an amazing fantasy story as well. A sweeping epic (which I wrote a little about here), plenty of fans have been clamoring for new stories from Smith's universe and it appears that their wish has been granted.
IS IT WORTH IT Hey, I love Bone. I read the entire collected story and when it ended it felt like saying goodbye to a friend. I fully expect to pass it down to my kid. That being said some stories are better left finished. Why revisit something so perfect? And why a new writer? I'm a little skeptical-- though, let's be honest, this is really a treat for kids.

Literary scholar Leslie Klinger and Writer Neil Gaiman to annotate Sandman
Vertigo will (eventually) be putting out an annotated version of Neil Gaiman's Sandman, the classic nineties comic about the Lord of Dreams.
WHAT DOES THIS MEAN Sandman, as noted in my write-up as part of the comics canon, is a comic based mainly on folklore, and so this project promises to be not only ambitious but thought-provoking. For all of those Sandman fans this will be a must-have. Yes, that includes goths and non-goths alike.
WORK IT INTO CONVERSATION "Oh, you like The Nightmare Before Christmas and Hot Topic too? Check this out."

(Some of) James Robinson’s Justice League Revealed
A teaser image was revealed for James Robinson's new Justice League book. In the image it's revealed that Dick Grayson, Donna Troy, and Mon-El, along with Green Lantern and the previously mentioned Congorilla, would be in this League.
WHAT DOES THIS MEAN It means that Dick Grayson and Donna Troy get to be in yet another boring book together. Titans just couldn't satiate the comics reading world! Kidding, kidding. I actually like Robinson quite a bit (particularly his classic work on Starman) but if there's anything I've learned from reading comics over the past few years it's that Justice League books should be considered awful until proven otherwise.
HOW MANY SHITTY BOOKS HAS DICK GRAYSON BEEN IN LATELY This would make two currently running series--Justice League and Batman-- plus Titans, Battle For The Cowl, and even his own title, Nightwing. Can we please just leave him to Grant Morrison and have that be that?

Geoff Johns to Write New Flash Title
DC announced that Geoff Johns will be penning a new Flash ongoing after Blackest Night, with an as of yet to be named artist.
WHAT DOES THIS MEAN I'm just going to say this now and I don't want to hear any shit talking: I kind of liked the first issue of Blackest Night. Yeah, it was a little too much with the violence, I understand that; but I still think that what Johns does to make you care about these characters is less cheap than, say, Brad Meltzer or Judd Winnick. He makes you feel like the ongoing narrative is important, and the quality of each individual story reflects that. To put it simply: he cares about what the average fan cares about. It's not necessarily what I care about, and sometimes hero porn can get a little exhausting, but it's a genre that demands a bit of escapism and Johns delivers on that front. I'll give his new Flash book a shot; hell, his old one was great.
HOW MANY DC BOOKS IS GEOFF JOHNS CURRENTLY WRITING Like forty-six I think, right?

Other links of note:

Sarah Jaffe's piece on EA's deplorable Con promotion.
Rafael Grampa draws real good.
Dark Horse to publish all three volumes of Blacksad.
Rich Johnston spreads the rumor that Comic-Con may be saying bye-bye to San Diego.
People seem to be excited about that new Nightmare on Elm Street movie.
Air did not win an Eisner Award. NO JUSTICE!
Finally, this isn't Con related but the comic shop Rocketship in Brooklyn is having a cool event this weekend: CARTOON BROOKLYN.

092 Swallow Me Whole

noreply@blogger.com (Paul DeBenedetto) — Wed, 22 Jul 2009 16:52:00 +0000

There are some stories that take a little time to sink in. When I first finished Nate Powell's Swallow Me Whole I found myself having to go back and read it again. This wasn't a story meant to breeze through on your way to work, but rather one deserving of your attention and analyzing. Powell clearly put a lot into this story and you can tell; it's almost exhausting to read, but in a good way. After turning the last page (for the second time) I closed the book, sat there and thought about it for a while. It's that kind of work.

The story centers around step-siblings Ruth and Perry, who we learn are both suffering from mental disorders (an affliction shared with their grandmother, who is incapacitated by dementia.) Ruth believes she can talk to insects, while Perry has a little wizard who sits on the end of his pencil speaks to him, telling him what to write. Both kids are at first misdiagnosed; Ruth by the school administration, who accuse her of being on drugs, and Perry by the family pediatrician, who overlooks his illness as stress related. Eventually Ruth begins to receive treatment from a psychiatrist while Perry continues to go through life undiagnosed, despite the fact that he is literally arguing with himself in public and at home.

Described by many as a book about mental illness, Swallow Me Whole is as much a profound look at adolescent psychology as it is schizophrenia. While Powell succeeds at writing sick characters with a certain tact and realism other writers tend to miss, it is his characterization of the teenage experience where he truly triumphs. In fact the illness itself could be looked at as an allegory for our own feelings of alienation during adolescence, much like Charles Burns' use of mutation in Black Hole. Ruth's response to Perry's question about coping with her illness ("Who wants to cope?") could be seen as a rejection of conformity. It's what defines them, what makes them different in a sea of high school assimilation; without it they have no individuality. Perry channels these feelings into his writing, just as his grandmother painted; both activities seem to keep their psychoses at bay. Ruth's hobby, collecting bugs in jars and arranging them on her shelf, can also be seen as a way to exert some control over her life. This works for both kids, at least for a time, as they gain new friends and relationships.

However, Perry and his grandmother's hobbies seem more constructive, and thus more in touch with reality, or "normal". Ruth on the other hand seems to always perpetuate her obsessive tendencies rather than suppress them. She eventually gets a job at the local museum where she finds and steals a fake or taxidermy frog, an animal that's known to swallow insects (the creatures she so associates with) and which she sees as her totem. The frog begins to talk to her, and it's here that Powell's sleight of hand reaches it's climax. By showing us Ruth's eventual treatment and allowing Perry's problems to remain misdiagnosed, as well as displaying his perceived lack of control over his illness, we're led to believe she might be a stabilizing influence for Perry, when in reality her mental issues were much more rooted below the surface. When something happens to her collection, the effect is twofold: effectively removing her identity and cutting off her grip from reality. This leads to a beautifully drawn ending, wrought with metaphor and with a density that may require a second and perhaps third reading to fully appreciate it.

Powell's writing is perhaps only overshadowed by the tremendous artwork of the book. At times crisp and clean and at times breaking down into a frenzied madness it always succeeds in setting the tone for each scene. He also utilizes some interesting visual storytelling techniques. Music emanating from a stereo wraps around the room, the lyrics becoming part of the scene rather than another caption placed within. He makes good use of lettering as well, with whispered comments represented by a smaller, cursive style, and in high school scenes word balloons of varying sizes give off the feeling of a crowded, noisy hallway.

There are times when I felt a scene needed re-reading in order for the point to get across, and that perhaps a little more explanation could have been used, but these are small complaints, and you get the feeling that what you're dealing with here is a product of such great ambition that these faults are overlooked. Swallow Me Whole is equal parts beautiful, tragic, heartwarming, and honest. Powell's work is rich with subtlety while at the same time visually striking, and commanding of your respect. Recommended reading.

Publisher: Top Shelf Productions

091 The DeBenedetto Classics - The List

noreply@blogger.com (Paul DeBenedetto) — Tue, 21 Jul 2009 03:19:00 +0000

With apologies to Charles W. Eliot, The DeBenedetto Classics are my attempt at creating a comics canon: a series of comics and comics creators that I consider "essential reads". My disclaimer when starting this whole thing was that I'm hardly an expert. So is what I consider "canon" as important to others as it is to me? Is a discussion like this relevant in any way other than to spark debate? My answer to both of these questions is "probably not" but it was an interesting exercise and I got some great feedback from commentors. Here's the final list, with comments.

Vol. 1: The Original Masters

Jack Kirby - Mainstream Comics (Fantastic Four, Fourth World omnibuses)
R. Crumb - Underground Comics (The Complete Crumb)
Will Eisner - Art/Lit Comics (A Contract With God, The Spirit)

Commenter "DB" brought up some great choices, including Harvey Kurtzman and Stan Lee. I thought Lee was a bit overrated in the creative process, but Garrett from Shazhmmm agreed: "Lee's far more than a figurehead. As awesome as Kirby and Ditko were, Marvel wouldn't be Marvel without Lee."

Vol. 2: The Modern Masters

Grant Morrison - Mainstream Comics (Animal Man, The Invisibles, All Star Superman)
Los Bros Hernandez - Alternative/Indie Comics (Love and Rockets)
Chris Ware - Art/Lit Comics (Acme Novelty Library, Jimmy Corrigan, the Smartest Kid on Earth)

Garrett brought up another Morrison masterpiece, Doom Patrol, and indeed my list of books for these creators shouldn't be confined to just what I've listed. These are my personal favorites, but each of these creators have enough body of work to collect multiple titles; indeed, when talking about a guy like Kirby or Morrison there's such a great body of mainstream work that it's tough to narrow it down to any "quintessential" stories.

Jay B. had some other choices: "(I) Think people you could throw on that list would (be) Mike Allred and Matt Wagner. Both excel in writing and drawing and are always finding new ways to surprise me." While I didn't include either creator on my canon each are worth taking a look at.

Vol. 3: The Essential Strips

Winsor McCay - Little Nemo In Slumberland
George Herriman - Krazy Kat
Charles Schulz - Peanuts
Bill Waterson - Calvin and Hobbes
Gary Trudeau - Doonesbury
Gary Larson - The Far Side

This list was my most contested, and indeed there are tons of choices to put into a comic strips canon; after all, the comic strip was essentially the grandfather of the modern comic book. Nonetheless I tries to be as strict as possible. Garrett had a few additions: he suggested Thimble Theater and Gasoline Alley. While I was ready to concede Gasoline Alley I found myself contesting Thimble Theater, making the argument that while Popeye as a character was very popular the strip he started in might not necessarily be "must-read" material; that is to say, Popeye had transcended the strip and gone on into the cultural lexicon. Garrett had the following compelling argument: "Gotta disagree about Popeye. That's like saying DuckTails is more relevant than Carl Barks. Thimble Theater isn't just a strip where Popeye first appeared; Segar used the serialized nature of comic strips better than any storyteller before or since."

Another great response came from "joe", who responded: "First of all, yes, Segar's work is canonical. This is not a subject up for debate or discussion. To begin with, the strip was immensely influential to everyone from Jules Pfeiffer to Charles Schultz to Robert Crumb, which in and of itself would be a strong enough argument to get the elusive Paul Debenedetto label of "canonical". But, beyond influence (and sheer character popularity), Segar is easily one of the architect's of the modern strip a we know it. No, he did not create the grid, the panel or any of the easily identifiable tropes of the genre, but he did develop a rhythm and pacing that would influence nearly all who came after him. Finally, there is Segar's influence on the superhero genre; the super-strong, omnipotent thug prone to fisticuffs mixed with a simplistic, folksy morality is easily a significant predecessor to the cape and tights set. Get on the freakin' ball, buddy!"

Ok, ok! So Segar has quite a following. I'll claim ignorance here. But while I may concede joe's offering of Segar and Milt Caniff I am still standing strong on my denial of Roy Crane and Alex Raymond into the canon. Great comics but not "must-reads".

Side-note: when I type out things like that I feel like the biggest dick ever; I'm clearly not passing judgement on Crane or Raymond (because who the fuck am I?), but rather saying their work, while amazing, can be missed without you feeling like an asshole in a comics conversation.

Vol. 4: Non -Fiction Comics

Art Spiegelman - Maus
Scott McCloud - Understanding Comics
Joe Sacco - Palestine
Harvey Pekar - American Splendor
Marjane Satrapi - Persepolis

My non-fiction list feels a little "modern", but to me these are the only real requirements in non-fiction comics reading. Eisner's Comic and Sequential Art could be mentioned but McCloud's work encompasses and improves upon that.

Vol. 5: Superhero Comics

Alan Moore - Watchmen, Swamp Thing
Frank Miller - The Dark Knight Returns, Batman: Year One, Daredevil
Neil Gaiman - Sandman
Scott McCloud - Zot!
Steve Ditko - Spider-Man
Eastman & Laird - Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles
Neal Adams and Dennis O'Neal - Green Lantern/Green Arrow: Hard Travelling Heroes, Batman
Ed Brubaker - Captain America

As I mentioned in my post I left out books like Simonson's Thor and Starlin's Warlock for brevity's sake but if you're looking for more great capes writing pick these books up! I mean it, they're already collected. I was chastised a little by Garrett for not picking out guys like Jim Steranko ("So are Kirby and Ditko the only Silver Age superhero creators you rate at all?") but I'm going to stick to my guns here. I also admit that Brubaker's Cap run is a little new to include in a canon (and the last couple of issues have made me almost kick myself) but it's really the textbook example of how to write a superhero book. Staggeringly good work.

Vol. 6: Indie & Alternative Comics

Adrian Tomine - Optic Nerve
Seth - It's A Good Life if you Don't Weaken
Dave Sim - Cerebus
Charles Burns - Black Hole
Gary Panter - Jimbo in Purgatory
Lynda Barry - ONE! HUNDRED! DEMONS!
Chester Brown - Louis Riel: A Comic Book Biography
Daniel Clowes - Ghost World

Another case of the "moderns". I think this illustrates a great point I once heard Brian K. Vaughn mention (and I'm paraphrasing here): that we're now living in a sort comics renaissance. Books have really been getting better and better over the past ten to fifteen years or so, and it's really making us rethink what we "know" about great comics. For example I don't have any ZAP! comics, or Vaughn Bode, or any number of great works or creators. This isn't meant to slight those older works but rather to emphasize the great stories that are being produced now. Think about it: books like Swallow Me Whole or Asterios Polyp could explode this canon in the next few years. It's an exciting time to be a comics fan!

Side note: my first wise-ass answer was left on this entry, and by a friend no less. The incorrigible Geoff Vasile (who doesn't actually like Marvel 1602) is not only an exquisite shit-talker but an incredible cartoonist. Check out his work here.

Vol. 7: All-Ages Friendly

Jeff Smith - Bone
Carl Barks - Four Color Comics, Uncle Scrooge
Bryan Lee O'Malley - Scott Pilgrim
Archie Comics
Brian Michael Bendis - Ultimate Spider-Man
Hergé - Tintin

I had made mention to the slightly non-PC early Tintin comics that some children should stay away from. Chris Tregenza of tintinmovie.org dropped in to leave the following input: "The only books that are really contentious are Tintin in the Land of the Soviets and Tintin in the Congo. They both contain attitudes to certain people / races that are not ideal for children. From Tintin in America onwards, things markedly improve though there are a few scenes here and there that are a little suspect. I recommend The Crab with the Golden Claw or The Shooting Star as great books to start with."

So that's it, save one last minute inclusion: MAD Magazine! What a completely foolish mistake! MAD is one of the most important, subversive, influential comics in the mediums history. if you've never read MAD you might as well stick to Grishams, kids.

That was some ordeal. So after looking at my final list: what did I miss?? Come on there must have been SOMETHING; this is the internet for chrissake, you're all experts!

090 Breaking! DC/Warner Bros. Have Heads Up Collective Asses

noreply@blogger.com (Paul DeBenedetto) — Mon, 20 Jul 2009 20:05:00 +0000

Big announcements from DC regarding big-screen adaptations of their properties, highlighted by Geoff Johns being picked to write and produce the live-action Flash movie. I personally think this is a swell idea, as Johns is currently DC's go-to guy to revitalize their shoddy capes books and originally worked for Richard Donner on the first Superman movie. But what of DC's other projects on the way? Is there a bright future on the horizon for the company?

The Losers is being directed by Peter Berg, whose had some hits-and-misses-but-really-mostly-misses, and is going to be a take on Andy Diggle's revamp of the silver age war story. Personally I can already see Berg's super-stylized nonsense sort of fitting in with Diggle's shoot-em-up CIA world. Does that mean it's going to be good? Well, I mean, in a "Smokin' Aces, watch when you're drunk with your frat bros, eating pizza" kinda way, maybe. But Tarantino he is not.
Jonah Hex is going to be just awful, and I actually like the character. Why Josh Brolin would choose to take part in this, what is sure to be a goofy take on Westerns written by the guys who wrote Crank, is just beyond me. Hey, Jason Statham movies are what they are, and I can appreciate that. I dunno if that style's going to fly in the old West.
The Green Lantern... jeez, I mean Ryan Reynolds, huh? That's who you're comfortable with? Hey, you do you, Warner Bros. You do you.
I've never read Human Target, nor am I interested in seeing a TV show based on that property starring Generic White Guy #236.
Apparantly this one was announced about a year ago and I didn't hear about it until today: Warren Ellis' three-issue miniseries Red is being adapted into a film, and while it's a book I haven't read it's written by the guys who wrote the Whiteout script (a comic I have read), and frankly I'm pre-disposed to loving everything Bruce Willis is in so this one's a slam dunk for me. Oscar material. Break out the bubbly, Warren, you've earned it.

But in all seriousness, has there been a more boring studio announcement? DC and Warner Bros. take the world by storm with the Dark Knight, then follow that up by saying the Superman franchise is on hiatus. But not to worry! Here's a bunch of crap no one wants to see. I mean be serious: do we need a Losers or Jonah Hex film? No, we don't. Do you want to know why we're getting these films? Because Warner Bros. is making the classic mistake of thinking that violence and "grit", rather than good storytelling, are what make people want to read/watch something. Yeah, how did Watchmen work out for you guys?

I mean I could care less. As a rule I think it's best to assume all comics adaptations suck because those involved end up missing the point by either trying to just recapture whatever was on the page and put it directly on screen, or bringing it back to the hyped-up, super-ironic Pulp Fiction nineties. There's no level of artistry to it. No thoughtfulness. No tact. It's just a bunch of suits trying to repackage an old idea.

Like most of what I say this is not intended to be fanboy criticism. If they can make a great Jonah Hex or Green Lantern movie by changing a few details then go for it. I actually insist that be the case. Comics as a medium are meant to do things film and prose can't, and vice versa; make a film that's new and interesting, that's befitting of the medium, even if it is an adaptation.

And bring back Superman.

089 The DeBenedetto Classics Vol. 7: All-Ages Comics

noreply@blogger.com (Paul DeBenedetto) — Fri, 17 Jul 2009 20:12:00 +0000

Welcome to the seventh, and final, volume of the DeBenedetto Classics. I'll be writing a wrap-up post this weekend cataloguing the entire ordeal so it'll be easier to access. With this volume, All-Ages Comics, I wrap up a series of what I consider "must-read" comics. Let's jump in:

Bone by Jeff Smith
Never has an all ages comic seemed so epic, but that's precisely the word to describe Jeff Smith's Bone: epic. The one volume edition, collecting issues 1-55, clocks in at around 1300 pages of story. Part travel tale, part sword and sorcery, Bone is the story of a family called the Bones, three white, bald "cartoony" creatures, who get kicked out of their hometown when their greedy cousin tries to run for mayor. As the story continues they end up on a Lord of the Rings-like journey, fighting against a great evil and eventually saving the day. Just classic kids storytelling that everyone can enjoy.

Four Color Comics / Uncle Scrooge by Carl Barks
For around twenty years Carl Barks scripted and drew some of the most influential comic books of all time-- even if they were about anthropomorphic ducks. Barks was the man who created Scrooge McDuck and Duckberg, as well as wrote many of the Donald Duck stories of the late forties, fifties and sixties. His writing introduced a heart and soul to Donald, who was previously only used for dumb slapstick, and his artwork on the comic got people calling him "the good duck artist" on a book that was at first largely done by committee, with no artist credit. The stories still hold up, too; a friend of mine has a few reprints and they're really solid reads. One of the creators I'm definitely introducing my kids to when they learn how to read. Oh also, when I have kids.

Scott Pilgrim by Brian Lee O'Malley
I'm not sure what it is that makes this all-ages friendly. It's not that the book is especially too dense, or even graphic, to be called all-ages; quite the opposite. The Scott Pilgrim series is light-hearted and fun, leaving you chuckling at the slacker protagonist. And indeed, it has been embraced by all different age groups. My only question is to how this happened. I mean, O'Malley's around four years older than I am, so I get the dumb pop culture and video game references, but how could a 13 year old girl, or a 35 year old man? Well, the work is just that accessible, and the jokes, while super-"referency", aren't there to confuse you or make you feel dumb. What O'Malley has done is made the perfect, readable book for people of all ages.

Archie Comics
I am not going to go into this; it suffices to say if you've never read Archie Comics I mourn for your childhood.

Ultimate Spider-Man by Brian Michael Bendis
Tons of non-comics reading friends who want to get into superhero comics always ask me where they should start. Should I read Superman, should I read Batman, should I read Wolverine; where does one begin? To them I always suggest the "Ultimate" line, and the best of the line is by far Ultimate Spider-Man. Now I don't like Brian Michael Bendis all that much lately; he sort of comes off as a misogynist with borderline hatred toward women. That being said Ultimate Spider-Man is one of, if not the, most consist ant comics that Marvel has ever put out. Quite simply never a bad issue (until, unfortunately, the very last one) in an entire nine-year run. What can I say? Sometimes you have to give credit where credit is due.

Tintin by Hergé
Probably could have been put in the strips volume, but I think it works better as a collection. Tintin is a young reporter who, accompanied by his dog Snowy, finds himself in extraordinary adventures throughout a world that is a pastiche of our own. One of the most popular foreign comics to make it in the U.S., the strong writing is capped by Hergé's influential style that helped shape not only Belgian and French comics, but comics throughout Europe for years to come. Some of the earlier stories are a little politically incorrect so I'd stick with the later ones if you're buying it for your kids, but there's no denying the relevance of Hergé's series.

So that's that. Any other kids comics you think deserve the treatment?

088 The DeBenedetto Classics Vol. 6: Indie and Alternative Comics

noreply@blogger.com (Paul DeBenedetto) — Wed, 15 Jul 2009 19:42:00 +0000

I've been a little busy lately but I wanted to post this, the sixth volume of my canon. New to this? Go back and read volumes one, two, three, four, and five.

Today's volume includes some great indie and alternative comics of the past twenty years or so. Again, keep in mind that some of the creators mentioned previously will not be included on this list, as earlier references may have taken into account their entire library.

Optic Nerve by Adrian Tomine
Tomine often gets pegged as a "hipster" cartoonist, and with his awful, awful fanbase it's easy to see why. I myself was turned off to his work for a while thanks to this unfortunate stigma. But much like categorizing Sandman as a comic for "goth chicks" it would be foolish to dismiss Tomine's rich, emotional work as anything other than fine, personal storytelling. It's not really personal in a cathartic way, though. I don't really see him resolving anything with these stories, as the endings are often left ambiguous. Rather, I believe each reader's interpretation of the stories is raised with a subtlety that's hard to mimic in any other medium. It's no wonder that many of Tomine's followers aren't comics fans at all. It's the kind of work that speaks to the lonely or heartbroken in all of us.

It's A Good Life If You Don't Weaken by Seth
Like his recent travel buddy Tomine, Seth's work is also very personal but for very different reasons. It's a Good Life... claims to be the true story of the search for a forgotten New Yorker cartoonist named "Kalo", but in reality no such cartoonist exists. Instead Seth, a New Yorker cartoonist himself, goes on more of a spiritual journey. While this exploration drives him further away from the members of his family one has to wonder what it is that he's really driving toward. Is it the exploration of his own methods, the perfection of his craft, or a longing for the comfort of the past?

Cerebus by Dave Sim
When Sim started Cerebus as a sword and sorcery comic in 1977, a pastiche of Conan and Red Sonja comics, he didn't intend to tell a finite, three hundred issue tale; this decision was made a few years later, after the book had started to grow in popularity. However that impressive feat is exactly what we got. The main character would age in real time, and the story would end with his death. In between we were treated to politics, spirituality, parody, a weird amount of misogyny, a lot of prose, and much, much more. It's interesting to read a book like Cerebus because after a while it really just starts to document one man's psyche, and at times reading this story it felt like that psyche was breaking down. Still, a great read and a wildly successful self-published comic that revolutionized the industry.

Black Hole by Charles Burns

Almost a horror comic in its presentation Black Hole is a remarkable look at sexuality and adolescence. In the seventies children at a high school are suddenly mutating due to a new sexually transmitted disease. Those who contract the disease are instantly outcasts, and Burns tells the story of a few of these kids' attempts at dealing with their new identities.

Jimbo in Purgatory by Gary Panter
Panter's adaptation of Dante's Divine Comedy showcases his remarkable acumen for art by uniquely blending together different styles; impressionism viewed through the filter of underground comix.

ONE! HUNDRED! DEMONS! by Lynda Barry
Barry's self-described "autobifictionalography" looks at childhood through the eyes of the author as a little girl. Barry really "gets" children, which is refreshing since authors so often fail at pulling off this technique. Her painted style and collages really make for striking visuals as well; the whole book really gives you the impression that you're taking in something that's never been done before.

Other works:
Louis Riel: A Comic Strip Biography by Chester Brown, which I really wish I remembered to put on the non-fiction list.
Ghost World by Daniel Clowes, which isn't as cool a choice it once would have been due to the movie bringing a bit of that hipster chicness to it. Still, a must-read.

Got some other classic indie- or alt-comics you'd put on your list? Think I should take some off mine? What are your "must-reads"?

087 The DeBenedetto Classics Vol. 5: Superhero Comics

noreply@blogger.com (Paul DeBenedetto) — Tue, 14 Jul 2009 01:43:00 +0000

Ah, yes! Comics' bread and butter. It's hard to imagine a comics conversation going very far without discussing these stories. Whether it be to aid discussions about how childish they are or how influential they are superhero comics are essential to any comics canon, and in my opinion any comics library.

Let me start by saying any and all comics by Jack Kirby or Grant Morrison are disqualified from making this volume of the Classics, due to their inclusion in earlier volumes. That said I'd suggest you go back to my earlier posts and add those stories to the list below as well.

I'd also like to say I tried to keep my definition of what is a "superhero" comic very loose. For example, you can contest Sandman all you'd like but the fact is he was a reimagining of a specific hero, heroes guest starred in the book, and it was put out by DC Comics (albeit the Vertigo imprint.) Sure, it's fantasy; sure, he's not wearing a cape; but it's still a mainstream comics story and I'm siding with the heroes.

Alan Moore Writes Some Pretty OK Comic Books
I've been sort of dreading the moment I would be forced to write about Watchmen. What can I say about this story that hasn't already been said? One of the greatest superhero comics of all time (if not the greatest), Moore's deconstruction of superhero archetypes helped set the tone for some of the "gritty" and "realistic" comics of the nineties and today (the merits of this type of storytelling are debatable, but you can't deny their impact.) Much of this has to do with the almost cinematic pacing Moore and Gibbons injected into the tale, and the decidedly serious view of an alternate history Nixon eighties.

Watchmen's more mature themes and "adult" subject matter brought an older crowd to comics, and helped perpetuate the idea of the "graphic novel", even though Watchmen itself was a series of comics collected into one trade paperback edition. Often thought of as the Catcher in The Rye of comics movie adaptations Watchmen was finally made into a film in 2008 with disastrous results. Zach Snyder's adaptation of the classic comic was overwrought and overly stylized, failing to meet Warner Bros.' expectations (you can read my complete diatribe on that fiasco here.)

There are other Moore works deserving of the canon, as he's one of the more prolific comics writers of our time, but none more so than this masterpiece of mainstream comics writing. I was tempted to place him on the "modern masters" list above Grant Morrison but decided that Morrison's work is decidedly more mainstream and indicative of the genre he was representing. That being said this won't be the last entry by Moore you'll see on this list.

Indeed, Moore tends to have more hits than misses. His work on Swamp Thing is generally considered the start of the "Vertigo" era of comics, although the title itself was on DC proper (this was before DC had an adult line; Swamp Thing fell under the DC banner but didn't carry the seal of approval from the Comics Code Authority.) His work on the title was also the start of a trend of reimagining and reinventing obscure heroes; Neil Gaiman's work on Sandman and Morrison's work on Animal Man followed suit. Romance, horror, and psychedelia mix together to form a journey into the fantastic, and the magical elements Moore introduced would be a theme in much of his work in the years to come.

Frank Miller: Reinventing the Vigilante
A lot of people seem to really love the Dark Knight Returns. Any conversation about "graphic novels" inevitably turns to Watchmen and DKR. Much like Moore's opus, Miller's Dark Knight is a more "mature" take on classic superhero archetypes. However, unlike Moore's delicate, thought out approach Miller seems a little more heavy-handed here, focusing more on two-fisted violence than nuance. I personally don't love it, but no canon would be complete without it. It's an odd choice; one made more out of necessity than real taste. It was considered groundbreaking at the time, and is hotly debated today, so being up on it is mandatory. The problem is this book generally overshadows Miller's true masterpiece involving the caped crusader, Batman: Year One.

Documenting Bruce Wayne's first year back in Gotham after traveling the world Year One is an interesting first examination of what makes Bruce Wayne Batman. If taken as one story, Year One and DKR present an interesting and sad evolution of the character, like bookends. One gets the impression in Year One that Bruce is driven by morals while you tend to infer from DKR that he would now consider his younger self's actions the trappings of naivete; that only with a loose moral code can real change be made. The problem there, however, is that it makes for less interesting storytelling. If all we're seeing is Batman breaking thumbs there's no real sympathy for the character, just an overwhelming "shock" factor. One can make the argument that this is the point, that Miller's DKR Batman isn't supposed to be relatable; rather, the very question of "is he doing the right thing?" is what makes the story great, and I'd certainly buy that, even if I don't believe it to have been the artist's intention. No, Miller strikes me more as a tough-as-nails, John Wayne, on the nose type, more at ease having a problem solved with fists rather than ingenuity. It's for this very reason that Year One stands out to me as the stronger work. Miller abandons that style to weave a strong narrative piece, exploring not only Batman's history but also that of Commissioner James Gordon.

Those less familiar with the comics world might be surprised to see David Mazzucchelli, creator of the new critically acclaimed Asterios Polyp, drawing a Batman story but that's exactly what he does in Year One: just draws the hell out of a Batman story. His linework is phenomenal and his shading really brings the corners and alleys of Gotham City to life. The subtlety of his work really shines, too, in comparison to Miller's own artwork in DKR which is as purposely over-the-top as his writing. That's really what the main difference is here; when playing it straight Miller shows he can create good, plot-driven stories rather than flashy fight scenes and immoderate violence.

To prove this we need only to look back at Miller's earlier work on Daredevil, the most influential work Marvel has put out since Lee and Kirby. Both writing and drawing the title, with inks by Klaus Janson (whom he would again collaborate with on DKR), Miller turned Daredevil from a blind version of Spider-Man to one of the more popular Marvel books of the early eighties. His run introduced the now essential martial arts elements of the Daredevil mythos, as well as the more dark, noirish New York City we've seen in Daredevil comics since. Other lasting contributions were the creation of Elektra and the definitive takes on both the Kingpin and Bullseye. But the best parts of Miller's Daredevil stories are the same thing that made Year One so great: the sustained subtlety and intricacy of Miller's narrative approach.

The Dream Lord
The nineties were a strange time. A new wave of creators, concerned more with style than substance, suddenly flooded the market. Breasts were larger, covers were shinier, and feet were mangled. However the nineties did have one saving grace: they gave us one of the greatest comics stories of all time.

Neil Gaiman's Sandman, the story of Morpheus the Lord of Dreams, joins both Watchmen and the Dark Knight Returns as comics to appear on the New York Times Bestseller List before there was a "graphic books" category. Much of the comic is based on folklore, and Gaiman proves to be a storytelling scholar. While today mostly known as a prose author it's interesting to offer up some of Gaiman's early accomplishments to those unaware as a way to break them into the medium.

Sandman, self-contained and lasting 75 issues, was a triumph for DC. It brought in tons of new readers, many of which had never picked up a comic book before. Not only that but much of the core audience was young, and female. It is because of this that Sandman often gets stereotyped as a book for "goth girls", but this description of the work is both limiting and ignorant. Rather, Sandman is a book for all of us. It harkens back to the basic forms of storytelling each culture and society is built on. Simple yet elegant in its presentation, clever and thoughtful in its craft. A must read for any comics fan.

Scott McCloud Puts Theory Into Practice
Perhaps best known for the aforementioned Understanding Comics, Scott McCloud first honed his storytelling chops on his own creator-owned comic Zot!. The story of a superhero from another dimension's Earth, Zot! really doesn't start to kick into overdrive until about halfway through the series when the bulk of the stories begin to take place in "our" dimension.

It is on our Earth that Zot learns more about the cynicism of humanity while at the same time never losing his trademark good nature. McCloud uses Zot as a moral compass, never failing to teach a lesson, and uses the other characters in contrast to accentuate our own moral ambiguity. This isn't done to be preachy; rather, the juxtaposition of Zot's infallibility to our imperfection helps showcase the humanity of the characters.

What makes Zot! an unconventional superhero comic, though, is the fact that once the story's setting is shifted there ceases to be any typical "adventure" plotlines. There are issues about romance, social status, and even anti-semitism. At times Zot is not even the main character of his own comic, the story instead shifting focus to his supporting cast. It's really all quite experimental, while still being incredibly new reader friendly.

Other inclusions:

Along with Lee and Kirby, Steve Ditko helped change mainstream comics with his early Spider-Man comics. For a good look at Ditko's style and career read Douglas Wolk's Reading Comics.
Eastman and Laird's Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, who after much debate I have decided to call superheroes, are included for being an extremely popular creator-owned property, and a true milestone in comics history.
The Green Lantern/Green Arrow "Hard Travelling Heroes" stories by Neal Adams and Dennis O'Neal. You know what? You should probably throw their Batman work in there too.
And just to finally add something contemporary that I feel will stand the test of time: Ed Brubaker's current run on Captain America. Never once spoiled by a big event, and handled the "death of a character" storyline better than any comic before.

There were some I left off for brevity's sake, including Simonson's Thor and Starlin's work on Warlock. Ultimately I decided that a canon with everything on it isn't much of a canon at all, is it? I'm trying to keep the list confined to books that had a certain level of importance and influence, whether artistically or sociologically, or books that were doing something new or different, like Zot!. That being said it's up to you to correct me. What am I missing?