Comics Of The Weak: C'mere, Vague Possibility Of Future Bridge--I Must Burn You

Batman Confidential # 12
Written by Michael Green
Art by Denys Cowan & John Floyd
Published by DC Comics

There's a lot of just plain stupid to deal with here, the best example being the Joker's near superhuman amount of tactical preparation in hanging what seems to be hundreds of live victims from buildings, so that he can shoot the ropes and drop them to their death, a feat that would be impressive if it wasn't so far outside the realm of believability. That's the major problem that this entire series, and to some extent, all of super-hero comics are struggling with nowadays--one is supposed to enjoy the overheated emotionalism of the spandex characters because it's so "realistic" while suspending disbelief with a rocket launcher when they turn the page. Thankfully, the writer's strike looks to be ending, and Michael Green will take this kind of ridiculous bullshit back to ABC, where it belongs.

Abe Sapien: The Drowning # 1
Written by Mike Mignola
Art by Jason Shawn Alexander
Published by Dark Horse Comics

Mignola's opened stories before with poetry set to images, so it's not like Abe Sapian is necessarily that unusual. What's a bit of a letdown is that the rest of the issue continues to ratchet up the "seen this before" moments--while Mignola may be using another fresh and talented artist on his B.P.R.D. crew, the entire story just strikes as one that is nothing more than the B-side of a Boys To Men single, if that single was "End of The Road" and the b-side was the instrumental version. After the blandly disappointing Lobster Johnson series, it's clear that the fabric of story that Mignola was weaving for his Hellboy universe is stretching a bit too tight. Whether it's merchandising or some other fiscal motivation, it's impossible to recommend something this ill-planned. This thing needed more time in the oven.

Ubu Bubu # 1
By Jamie Smart
Published by SLG Publishing

There's motherfucking stupid, and then there's Ubu Bubu. If it wasn't for the quote on the back regarding the Death t-shirts, this reader never would've known that this comic was geared towards whoever it is who buys those Emily the Strange books--Ubu Bubu could've been a free giveaway wherever it is kids buy dog collars and sterling silver skull rings in the Midwest. It's so goddamn stupid that, by the end of the issue, the only startling thing was when the writer/artist says "You'll see the next issue in three months." How the fuck something this pointless takes three months to make would be a story that's far better developed and less cutesy overall. Oh, and in case you're looking at the cover and thinking that we're being unduly harsh on a comic about a cute kitten, that cute kitten drops way more f-bombs than this reviewer and is the host for some kind of Satanic demon intent on genocidal world domination. No, you wouldn't like it. (Update: Jamie Smart responds here.)

Omega The Unknown # 5
Written by Jonathan Lethem
Art by Farel Dalrymple & Paul Hornschemeier
Published by Marvel Comics

After the terrific-ness of watching a man catch a flying bald eagle and cook it in a lunch truck of the last issue, Omega turns it's focus back to the life of it's can-we-just-admit-Asbergers-and-quit-being-cute of it's nominal leading man. Although one does get to watch the irritating little bastard "kill" a robot with his flaming hands, for the most part, this issue wasn't as good as the last, but it's still enough of a professional enterprise to be somewhat worthwhile. It was probably part of Lethem's agreement that, if he was going to write a Marvel comic book, they had to make it look like a Marvel comic book--to appeal to his proclaimed love of Marvel's dubious golden age, it had to, at least, say "Marvel Comics" on the front. Bragging rights among--who knows, exactly? But Omega is it's own beast, entirely--it's not much like what the man's novels are like, it doesn't look much like anything that Marvel publishes, and it reads like it was published in the earlier years of the Vertigo line, when they would published Ted McKeever's neo-gothic ramblings and unsellable graphic novels about old men in comas. If you're basing whether it's good or not by what it's surrounded by, then yes, it's pretty much okay, but if you're asking whether you're going to shelve it alongside Paul Pope and Neal Adams as something you'll enjoy re-reading in five years, then the answer is--well, we'll always have Motherless Brooklyn, won't we?

Northlanders # 3
Written by Brian Wood
Art by Davide Gianfelice
Published by Vertigo/DC Comics

The most interesting thing that came out of what this reader found in the debut issue of Comics Foundry (which looks like Maxim, with less attractive models, and is about, you know, Spider-man and shit) was when Brian Wood pointed out that he has all the trades of Garth Ennis' Punisher MAX series. Wood, according to the opinions of other internet comics writers, is the one writer that Marvel would sell crack to get away from DC. It's not hard to see why--and it's not that hard to imagine how well Wood could handle something like Punisher MAX. Not from reading DMZ, a book that's never really pulled off the violence that well, but from this issue of Northlanders--most definitely. It's a short list of comics that include a guy wearing the head of a moose to frighten people, who he then slaughters with a huge sword. In fact, that list is probably just this comic and nothing else. Although it is a device that would work extraordinarily well in Moon Knight. (UPDATE: Brian Wood responds here.)

Scud The Disposable Assassin # 21
By Rob Schrab
Published by Image Comics

The nice thing about having comic books in long boxes and not buying the trades is that a comics reader doesn't ever end up going back to re-read the stuff they thought was great before they had sex and saw The Wire. Unfortunately, sometimes the creator of one of those series decides to return to comic books to "finish" a series that never had an over-arcing plot of any significance, and was never actually headed towards any reasonable climax. Case in point: Scud: The Disposable Assassin, which is now back, and will supposedly be back for awhile, and has so far succeeded only in digging up what were old somewhat happy memories, pissing all over them, and shoving them so far down this readers mouth that the salty brine is collecting in this readers new Air Force 1's. Thanks a fucking lot Image. Time to dispose of this motherfucker. (Get it? Because he's "disposable?" It's not funny, but neither was this comic.)

Detective Comics # 841
Written by Paul Dini
Art by Dustin Nguyen & Derek Fridolfs
Published by DC Comics

Why don't you hear about the Buzzcock's more often? Besides Robert Christgau, I can't remember the last time that a non-critic mentioned them, besides that woman at work who was sleeping with a certain terrible pop-stars current boyfriend. They're a great band. Oh, and it was nice and timely for Paul Dini to have Detective Comics set part of it's story at Gotham Fashion Week, and have it come out the same time as New York Fashion Week. Clever stuff, and Nguyen effectively came up with a collection that was much better than what John Varvatos premiered in the real world on Monday. Varvatos did look like he was going to go somewhere, at least with his Converse collection, but it looks like he's allowing the ready-to-wear of the Converse stuff to seep into his primary high end line. On top of that, the invitations and tickets for the show were terrible--not just because of the flimsy paper stock, but because they were almost exactly the same as his previous show tickets, except without that irritating piece of cotton fabric in the envelope. It's nitpicky, we know, but fashion is an unforgiving business--especially with what Derek Lam and Proenza Schuler came out with. Now those were great shows.

The Boys # 15
Written by Garth Ennis
Art by Darick Robertson
Published by Dynamite Entertainment

The Russian escapade put to bed, Ennis returns with another issue of The Boys that's just about as nasty as anything else this series has produced. It's turning out to be a lot like Hitman, with the volume turned way up, but this series continues to become exponentially more of a pleasure to spend time with when it's surrounded by the ultra-serious, and ultra-obnoxiousness, of things like Mighty Avengers, the Sinestro Corps, and pretty much anything that features Superman or Wolverine. Stand alone, The Boys is still a comic that's a long form Mad magazine parody where wit takes a back seat to offensive--but until Johnny Ryan starts releasing a weekly edition of Comic Book Holocaust, this is the only title that's filling the bill of virulent contempt for super-heroes. That right there will hopefully keep this book selling enough copies to last until Ennis goes into detox.

-Tucker Stone, 2008