Hiển thị các bài đăng có nhãn iron man. Hiển thị tất cả bài đăng
Hiển thị các bài đăng có nhãn iron man. Hiển thị tất cả bài đăng

Review: Iron Man/War Machine: Hands of the Mandarin trade paperback (Marvel Comics)

Người đăng: Unknown on Thứ Tư, 8 tháng 5, 2013

Iron Man/War Machine: Hands of the Mandarin[Review by Doug Glassman, who Tumblrs at Hell Yeah '80s Marvel!]

The early 1990s era of Iron Man is something I enjoy despite its flaws, mostly because it was such a big part of my comic book collecting origins. The Modular Armor was brought to television as the base design of Iron Man: The Animated Series, which was one of the most influential shows in my childhood. When I was twelve, the very first back issue I ever bought was a copy of Iron Man #300 -- the Modular Armor’s debut. The issues from Iron Man, War Machine, and Force Works that form the newly collected Iron Man/War Machine: Hands of the Mandarin crossover show the Iron Man franchise right before its utter collapse.

At its core, Hands of the Mandarin consists of two stories: the Mandarin taking over China with the aid of an extraterrestrial weapon, and Iron Man and War Machine reconciling after a long period of mistrust and anger. The rift between Tony Stark and Jim Rhodes has a deep history, demonstrated by flashbacks to everything from Rhodey’s first appearance and his first tenure as Iron Man to the Armor Wars and the events of the War Machine trade. At the end of that book, Rhodey cut ties with Tony for not being in the loop about his faking his death. Now roaming the world as the violent vigilante War Machine, Rhodey needs Tony’s help to fix his armor -- by force, if necessary.

Meanwhile, the Mandarin lost badly to Iron Man in John Byrne’s classic Dragon Seed Saga (featuring Fin Fang Foom as one of the titular dragons). He’s now found a device called the Heart of Darkness, which rebuilt the hands he lost in the previous story with dragon-like claws and has increased his power immensely. Additionally, he’s gained a new philosophy on life, choosing magic over technology; his plan is to rid the world of technology entirely and rule over a new Dark Ages. It’s a bit of a departure from his old methods, but the Mandarin has always been a character in need to a purpose since the fall of Communism.

If the story had just been about Iron Man, War Machine and the Mandarin, then Hands of the Mandarin would have been a great success. Unfortunately, there was a third title in the Iron Man franchise which caused problems. Under the leadership of Iron Man and the Scarlet Witch, the West Coast Avengers decided to become a “proactive team” called Force Works. If the name and concept bring the infamous Extreme Justice to mind, it’s worth noting that the two titles were contemporaries. The Force Works parts of the crossover suffer from traditional '90s team book problems, such as uninspiring roster choices, combative members, and a lack of strong leadership.

The Scarlet Witch leads the team ... unless Iron Man is present, or unless U.S. Agent decides to go off and do his own thing. Supposedly, Wanda is more powerful than before, but her characterization is next to nonexistent. Julia Carpenter, the second Spider-Woman, also brings little to Force Works; it was disheartening to learn this since Julia was one of my favorite characters on the Iron Man cartoon. Even more depressing is U.S. Agent’s decline from a misguided anti-hero into a juiced-up goon.

Rounding out the team is Century, a spindly alien who has an odd verbal quirk of speaking in synonyms when trying to sound out concepts in English. Century has an interesting subplot in Hands of the Mandarin involving the theft of his staff, which makes him relive the memories of other people. This plot point is unfortunately not answered within the pages of this trade. Incidentally, his staff is called Parallax, proving that that word was the bane of comics in the '90s.

Most of the Force Works material consists of the team engaging in what '90s grim and gritty teams did best -- attacking a fortified base, in this case the Mandarin’s castle. It gets extremely spread out because extra pieces of the crossover were published in the Marvel Comics Presents anthology series. These short stories are told from the point of view of Force Works’s members but do little except pad out the story. Worse still, they take room away from what could have been important linking sequences, such as the rather abrupt ending. In a silly move, Marvel had an editorial policy banning curse words to make them feel more “mature” than upstart companies like Image and Dark Horse. As a result, people are told to “go to Hades” numerous times.

The biggest problem in Hands of the Mandarin is the art. The War Machine issues won the artist lottery with Gabriel Gecko (an alias of Hulk artist Gabriel Hardman) and Geoff Senior (known for his work on Transformers). Their art is a little above the '90s standard with far more consistent proportions and clearer action. Tom Morgan’s Iron Man work is full-on early Image, but still somewhat readable through the heavy lines.

Once again, Force Works is where it really falls apart, with numerous errors in proportions and even botched coloring, such as Scarlet Witch’s hair being colored purple many times. However, the absolute worst comes in the Marvel Comics Presents short stories. There’s a thin line between “art you dislike” and “bad art” The artwork in these short stories is so incredibly sloppy and poorly done that I think they should not have been published without heavy editing. There are points where Century’s face tattoos jut off from his face like horns, and others where U.S. Agent has a full-blown case of Liefeld’s Disease.

It may sound like I hated Iron Man/War Machine: Hands of the Mandarin but I’m really accepting of its flaws. There’s a great story buried under a veneer of bad artwork, and the Mandarin, Tony, Rhodey and even Century get some good character development. If you’re willing to accept exposure to early '90s artwork ranging from acceptable to utterly horrifying, you’ll find something to like here.
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Review: Invincible Iron Man: War Machine trade paperback (Marvel Comics)

Người đăng: Unknown on Thứ Tư, 24 tháng 10, 2012

[Review by Doug Glassman.]

If you read enough Iron Man, you’ll start to notice that the same stories keep happening every couple of years. Tony has become an alcoholic three times, there have been three Armor Wars, and Jim Rhodes has replaced Tony three times.

I give all the writers involved credit for coming up with new variations on these scenarios. Denny O’Neil drove Tony to the breaking point while Stane stole his business and life. John Byrne piled on the enemies and took control of Tony's body during Armor Wars 2. Matt Fraction modernized all three of these stories in his epic run on Invincible Iron Man. When it comes to Rhodes, though, I can’t help but love his best return to the armor in Iron Man: War Machine by Len Kaminski.

Back in issue #240, Tony’s crazy girlfriend Kathy Dare shot Tony and paralyzed him. He’s since declined in health, at one point requiring the armor to live at all. At the start of the trade, he has a meeting with the Stark, an alien race that worships him and has been foes of the Guardians of the Galaxy; this gets Tony thinking about what he’s done for the world and how he’s spent his life. Tony has also retaken his old company, which is still called Stane Enterprises and which is still involved in the illegal activities begun by its former owner. When these activities lead to an accident at a Japanese plant, the plant’s owners send the Masters of Silence to kill Tony. This group of techno-ninjas is one of the book’s goofier concepts, but this was in an era when Japanese popular culture was still new and exciting to Western readers.

Tony’s reaction to being attacked by techno-ninjas is, naturally, to slap as many guns as possible on a suit. The Samurai Armor (my personal favorite from the animated series toyline) wouldn’t be invented for a few more years, so instead, we get the War Machine armor. I’ve tried to push through the years of nostalgia to analyze War Machine’s design, and it remains one of the best Iron Man suits ever built. Even the spikes on the shins and large shoulder pads can’t change how dynamic it is, especially with the twin guns on the shoulders. I prefer the initial version of War Machine, the one designed for Tony’s use, which lacks a unibeam and instead has a flat chest. It may have inspired other lame 1990s heroes to mount excessive amounts of guns on their suits, but the War Machine armor uses its weapons tactically and is built for versatility.

Fighting first against and then alongside the Masters of Silence is the end for Tony, and he dies ... or at least, that’s what Jim Rhodes thinks. The comic never allows the reader to pretend that Tony died. Instead, while Rhodes resists becoming Iron Man once more, Tony dreams in cryogenic suspension. We see Tony's tragic early life was and get an ugly look into Howard Stark’s descent into alcoholism. Eventually, Tony rebuilds himself in a sequence very reminiscent of how he does it in Invincible Iron Man: Stark Disassembled, complete with advanced technology embedded in his body. Considering Fraction’s other shout-outs to parts of Iron Man’s past, I think this is intentional.

After everyone from the Avengers to Doctor Doom toasts to Tony’s memory, Rhodey has a dream that prompts him to take up the Iron Man identity. The dream is melodramatic, especially when Blacklash, Spymaster, and Constrictor start quoting Conan the Barbarian, but it’s effective. Rhodey’s first outing is against Spymaster, Blacklash, the Beetle and the Blizzard, with help from Avengers West Coast. This involves Rhodey getting shrunk down to an inch tall thanks to Hank Pym; I especially love the image of the villainous quartet shrunken down in a Ziploc bag. It makes me hope that they make Minimates of Blacklash, Beetle and Blizzard so that I can make a prop of my own.

After this, War Machine takes on Atom Smasher. As a fan of Al Rothstein, I naturally had a bit of a laugh at this, although in fairness, this Atom Smasher existed four years before Kingdom Come turned it into the new name for Nuklon. The story is actually a cogent take on the nuclear issues which pop up frequently in Iron Man stories. The Living Laser returns in the following issue, and Rhodes pulls a very cruel trick to get rid of him. This highlights just how different Rhodey is from Tony and it marks a crucial moment that leads to War Machine’s own title.

At the end, Rhodey discovers that Tony is alive ... and he quits, until he has to put the armor to help Tony take on an invading robot army. Tony’s new armor is the Telepresence unit, which marks the transition from the Neo-Classic to Modular armors. It has the mouthless Modular helmet on top of the Neo-Classic circular unibeam; the hollow body also houses enough weapons to match War Machine’s arsenal. Firepower from Iron Man: Armor Wars also makes a reappearance; as always, the government is trying to edge in on Iron Man’s game. Rhodey decides to go his own way, joining Avengers West Coast as War Machine and breaking off communications with Tony.

I love Kevin Hopgood’s artwork. It’s right at the cusp of Image art, but he has a much better sense of proportion. The War Machine armor looks gorgeous under his pen. The coloring is wrong in the issue with the Living Laser -- Rhodey has red hair, and there is too much red in the issue all together. I should also point out that Rhodey has a ridiculous Vanilla Ice-style fade, if you need any more proof that this comic is straight out of the '90s. Hopgood also does some neat visual effects for the “digital world” within Tony’s mind.

It’s no coincidence that the Iron Man: War Machine trade came out around the same time as the second film. I really appreciate how they adapted the character to film, and it stays true to how the War Machine began. This is some great Iron Man work.
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Review: Invincible Iron Man Vol. 8: Unfixable hardcover/paperback (Marvel Comics)

Người đăng: Unknown on Thứ Tư, 21 tháng 3, 2012

[Guest review by Doug Glassman]

Similar to the last volume, My Monsters, Invincible Iron Man: Unfixable puts the title in a holding pattern between the Heroic Age and Fear Itself. However, Unfixable does have what that volume lacked: a great core story for the majority of the book.

As indicated on the cover, Iron Man’s foe is Doctor Octopus. Yes, that’s Doc Ock. His new look was explained in Amazing Spider-Man as being caused by his body failing due to his various battles. This makes a lot of sense: after all, Doc Ock has never been the most physically fit of villains, and his arms are directly connected to his spine, which can’t be good for either his nervous system or his skeleton.

Doc Ock now wields eight tentacles and operates from what can best be described as a mixture between Brainiac’s skull ship from the 1980s and a pistachio nut. Notably, his face is covered except for his eyes; is this so they can retcon him away later as not being Otto Octavius?

I truly hope not, because the clash between Stark and Octavius is a clever one, going back to Tony’s pre-Iron Man days. While Octavius respected the boundaries placed on him by his financiers, Stark was a “science hippie,” always trying out new concepts ... and getting alcoholic blackouts when they failed. It’s great that Matt Fraction created a conflict between two long-existing characters rather than coming up with a new rival for Stark out of nowhere. The Hammers and Stanes of the world are fine enough foes without having yet another “lifelong competitor” like the bland Tiberius Stone showing up.

With so many other things going on in his mind -- the Mandarin, the Avengers, his work -- Tony clearly considers Ock to be less than important. Throughout the three-issue story, much of it is spent with them bickering at each other over minor matters that have been escalated into a nuclear threat. The Sandman and Electro make entertaining cameos, representing the recently reunited Sinister Six; their foe in this story is Pepper Potts, now augmented with her own arc reactor as Rescue.

While giving powers to non-powered side characters can be a mistake (see Jimmy Olsen and Snapper Carr for two DC examples, or Rick Jones for a Marvel one), Pepper is able to differentiate herself from Iron Man and War Machine through her non-violent mission. Her weaponless suit is designed to help victims, not hurt criminals. In her fight against two of the most powerful villains in Spider-Man’s rogues, she has to push beyond her boundaries. The book ends somewhat abruptly with the start of Fear Itself in New York, but considering how Invincible Iron Man has close ties to that event, it’s not surprising.

The other two stories in Unfixable, while serving to pad out the trade, also reinforce some of the main story’s theme. The FCBD story is part of Iron Man’s reconciliation with Thor, who you may recall had a tense encounter with Iron Man all the way back in The Five Nightmares. In the wake of Siege, Tony’s struggling new business has been handed to contract to rebuild Asgard and Broxton. However, this story is set slightly beforehand, where a group of rich moon-dwellers has built a weather domination machine from some of Tony’s old plans. These villains steal the show, attempting to form a Randian utopia in the mold of Rapture from Bioshock. Their comeuppance is swift, and it’s a good background for the healing process of two founding Avengers.

After this comes the Rescue one-shot, which plunges us right into the heart of Dark Reign yet again. One of the silliest conceits during Rescue’s debut is that Norman Osborn would only let Pepper use the armor for about half an hour before sending HAMMER forces out to capture her. Now, the Green Goblin was never all there, but this was one of the most ridiculous things I’ve ever seen him do. The countdown timer, while a reference to 24, now reminds me more of Tokumei Sentai Go-Busters, which uses a clock in the corner of the screen to count down until the giant monster’s arrival.

Kelly Sue DeConnick (married to Matt Fraction) does her best with what she’s given, and focuses the story around an exhausted Pepper conversing with her dead husband, Happy Hogan. Thanks to the movies and other adaptations, their marriage has faded from readers’ memory, so it’s good to see that Pepper still thinks about him. It’s a simple story, but Pepper Potts is a character due for a solo issue.

The main story’s art is once again provided by Salvador Larroca and his colorist Frank D’armata (thanks for the comments correcting me that he does colors, not inks). I love how the colors and inks fade for the flashback segments.

Because I skipped reviewing Stark Resilient, this is my chance to talk about Iron Man’s new armor. While it goes a little overboard with the various light ports, it’s otherwise a gorgeous design, officially known as the Bleeding Edge armor. Any merchandising calling it the “Modular Armor” is dead wrong -- the Modular Armor was introduced in Iron Man Col. 1 #300 and was the inspiration for the armors used in the 1994 animated series and Marvel vs. Capcom. Iron Man fans take the model numbers, names and incarnations very seriously.

John Romita, Jr. drew the FCBD story, and despite his occasional tendency to draw square heads, it’s always good to see his art. One panel I especially like is Thor standing confused amidst a storm of raining frogs. The expression on his face is grim: after all, some of Thor’s best friends are frogs. (The Central Park Frogs’ cameo in the Onslaught event was one of the saving graces of having the Avengers shuffled off to another dimension.) As is usually the case with JRJR, industry legend Klaus Janson provides heavy inks.

Andrea Mutti is the artist for the Rescue story, and while the art isn’t bad, it doesn’t fare well being in the same book with Salvador Larroca and JRJR. One notable complaint is that Pepper’s hair color seems to change constantly, appearing bubblegum pink at points. Additionally, the cover for that issue overuses shadows on Pepper’s face, making it look like she has a mustache.

While inessential, much like the book before it, Invincible Iron Man: Unfixable is a much better book thanks to some better story delineation. Instead of an anthology, it has a core story and two back-ups which reinforce it. This book is especially good for Spider-Man fans thanks to its main villains.
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Invincible Iron Man: My Monsters Vol. 7 hardcover/paperback (Marvel Comics)

Người đăng: Unknown on Thứ Tư, 14 tháng 3, 2012

[Guest review by Doug Glassman]

When we last saw Tony Stark, his mind had been rebooted thanks to some help from the Avengers and his own guilt. I’ve decided to skip the Iron Man Stark Resilient books (volumes five and six) because, to be honest, they’re a bit of a slog. Matt Fraction is telling one very long story with these books, and while everything does interlock nicely, both World’s Most Wanted and Stark Resilient were heavily padded out. Each could have been shortened by two or three issues without losing any major details.

At some point, I may go back and review volumes five and six, but they aren’t really necessary to read Invincible Iron Man Vol. 7: My Monsters, which is very much a standalone. In fact, this trade is an unusual collection, containing Invincible Iron Man’s first annual, issue #500 and issue #500.1, plus a back-up story from a later issue. I find that Marvel’s “Point One” concept is rather silly, and I think that they would be better off either publishing a book twice a month or creating extra-long specials. However, no matter how they do it, I like that we can get more out of each story.

The first story in this trade is the biography of the Mandarin ... in a way. Iron Man’s arch-villain has kidnapped a director, forcing him to make a biopic from his own twisted view of history and his life. What makes this story really effective is a bit of reality subtext: the situation was inspired by the kidnapping of Shin Sang-ok by Kim Jung-il to make the monster film Pulsagari and start a North Korean film industry. Check out this New York Times article for more information; it’s a fascinating story.

I was a bit leery when I heard that they were doing another retelling of the Mandarin’s origin, as I didn’t want it to conflict with Joe Casey’s fantastic Enter the Mandarin mini-series. However, this story is less about retcons and more about director Jun Shan’s struggles with his insane “benefactor” and film subject. Like I mentioned in the Carnage: Family Feud trade, the Mandarin went unused for much of the Eighties since the writers had trouble with his Communist origins and his clash with the corporate themes of the Michelinie and O’Neil runs. The Mandarin is now more rooted in Chinese mysticism, Genghis Khan and the concept of ruthless meritocracy -- rising to the top through any means necessary.

To counterbalance the story of the Mandarin’s life, we have the story of Tony’s life, narrated at an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting. Tony has been attending Al-Anon for years in comics, and with his mental resurrection, it’s a good sign that he’s keeping up with his addiction issues. This was the “Point One” issue, but it feels more like a back-up story in an annual: well-told, but ultimately a bit pointless except as a refresher on Tony Stark. It traces his life through his many obsessions, including booze and women. This is followed by a flashback story revealing how Howard and Maria Stark met. While cute, it again is just a back-up story used to make the trade a bit larger.

Issue 500 comprises the final third of the book, and it serves as a culmination of the entire Invincible Iron Man series before the renumbering. It goes between three stories drawn by four different artists in two different time periods. The “present” section of the story rekindles Tony’s friendship with Peter Parker. My Monsters is set slightly before Carnage: Family Feud, which, in turn, were both likely taking cues from the various Avengers comics. The strength of their relationship really comes through in this story. The future here is one of the many possible futures of Iron Man, but this one is also tied into Tony’s guilt visions from Stark Disassembled; Tony and Peter must stop the creation of the tentacle-wielding mecha seen in that story.

I’ve been holding off about the art until now, because it’s key to this story. This is the first time in thirty-three issues with an artist other than Salvador Larocca, and even in this case, it’s for artistic reasons rather than time or scheduling issues. Larocca’s style changes a bit during issue 500.1, mostly thanks to Frank D’Armata using a different inking style to make the art look scratchier.

The art for the annual is by Carmine Di Giandomenico, and it looks … odd. Going from Larocca’s gorgeous, realistic, almost-painted art to the grittier and more fluid style of Di Giandomenico is jarring. He does convey one of the key parts of the annual: the Mandarin lying about his grand origins while displaying his true downtrodden life.

Howard Chaykin is the artist for the back-up story. What happened to Howard Chaykin recently? Did he change his inker or colorist, or is it just a new style? Either way, his figures are now really blocky with obvious charcoal outlines.

It all comes together in issue #500’s interlocking stories. Larocca does the primary story with Iron Man and Spider-Man tracking down the anti-technology disciples of Stilt-Man. (None of them actually knew Wilbur Day as well as Spidey did, and their stupidity demonstrates it.) After a few pages of this, it cuts to Kano’s take on Ginny Stark, Tony’s future daughter. Kano’s art is more angular, with a well-crafted brownish-yellow tint to the post-apocalyptic setting. Nathan Fox then tells the tale of Tony’s other child, his cyborg son Howard II, the new War Machine. In this section, Fox’s art has a boxy feel reminiscent of Jack Kirby. Finally, Di Giandomenico returns with this world’s ruler, the Mandarin, and his manservant -- Tony Stark. The present Tony and Peter help the future Starks succeed in taking down the Mandarin. The art duties rotate every few pages as the story progresses.

In the overall narrative of Invincible Iron Man, My Monsters is the equivalent of the "Times Past" trade from Starman. It contains a few thematically important stories with unusual art styles which hold clues for the future, but you can technically skip it without losing much of the story. All four stories are good reads, especially the respective life stories of Iron Man and the Mandarin, but unless you’re reading the entire story, My Monsters is rather skippable.
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Review: Invincible Iron Man: Stark: Disassembled hardcover/paperback (Marvel Comics)

Người đăng: Unknown on Thứ Năm, 10 tháng 11, 2011

[This review by Doug Glassman, who blogs at Astrakhan Industries.]

When last we left Tony Stark (in Invincible Iron Man: Worlds Most Wanted), he was brain-dead and Norman Osborn was victorious as the Iron Patriot. As the Siege of Asgard unfolds around him, Tony battles for life. Siege isn’t too important to this story, except that it does explain where these issues fit into the overall event narrative thanks to the Ghost.

The title Iron Man: Stark: Disassembled refers back to the Avengers: Disassembled event, which precipitated Iron Man’s Extremis armor, House of M, Civil War, Secret Invasion and Dark Reign. Matt Fraction clearly intends this story to end that chapter of Tony Stark’s life and start a new one. I believe that he succeeds in reference to both Stark’s story arc and Stark’s character. Tony starts over in more ways than one, and while the ending of this story has been called a deus ex machina, the context of later issues diffuses feelings of a simple ending.

Not only is Tony rebuilt (both physically and metaphorically) in this story, but so are his friendships. War Machine, Pepper Potts, Maria Hill, Thor and the original Captain America are necessary to revive him, and it even ends up being their choice to resurrect him in the first place. Other allies, such as the Black Widow, the current Captain America and Dr. Strange, are also on hand to help Tony. After years of stories in which the Marvel heroes have become fractured and, to an extent, unlikeable, Stark: Disassembled lays the cornerstones for the new Heroic Age, in which differences won’t have to be settled with Negative Zone prisons and Norman Osborn rising to power.

Opposing Tony’s resurrection is the Ghost, who starts to rise to the position of one of Iron Man’s top enemies. I feel that Stark: Disassembled puts him on the level of the Mandarin, Titanium Man, Crimson Dynamo and Spymaster. His anti-corporate leanings have come to the forefront after being sporadically used, making him a perfect foil for Stark. Only a last-minute hoisting with his own petard stops the Ghost, and it also starts him on his road of change as seen in the Thunderbolts series. I do like that there’s a clear point where he leaves the Thunderbolts’ mission to Asgard to attack Stark, as delineated both in this book and in Siege: Thunderbolts. It seems like Marvel’s various titles are really starting to sync up.

Also opposing Tony is his own mind, and a good half of the story is dedicated to his internal battle to return to consciousness. One of Tony’s driving factors has always been guilt; the Armor Wars is the best example. Even his friends aren’t sure whether he should come back, leading to a frank discussion of resurrection in the Marvel Universe. There’s a sequence in which Stark confronts the people who have died because of him, most notably Happy Hogan and Ho Yinsen, but also a few more obscure people. Although they aren’t named, I’m fairly certain that a glasses-wearing man is supposed to be Tony’s technical genius Abe Zimmer, while a blonde woman may be Kathy Dare, the stalker who shot him and destroyed his spine.

Salvador Larocca continues his epic run on Invincible Iron Man. The Fraction/Larocca team may go down in history alongside the Michelinie/Layton runs as one of the best consistent Iron Man writer/artist teams. One of Larocca’s strengths is that his characters can actually show emotion, an ability key to this storyline. He does use some interesting motion blurs, which can be distracting at times, but it does demonstrate how far comic book technology has come. Larocca also did the intriguing cover designs for the issues. The cover for the trade isn’t an example of these (although it is fine artwork), but Larocca created modern-art covers with unique color palettes and a circular design scheme. I really wish unique covers like these could be used more often.

While Stark: Disassembled ends Invincible Iron Man’s two-year-long story, it also ends a seven-year-long character arc. Tony Stark has gone from a Secretary of Defense, to a superhero registration enforcer, to a Director of S.H.I.E.L.D., to a troubled businessman, to a criminal fleeing from what used to be his organization, and finally to a brain-dead shell. This is truly the rebirth of Iron Man, and I highly recommend picking up this trade and those before it.

Thanks Doug! New reviews and more coming next week ... don't miss it!
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Review: Iron Man: Armor Wars trade paperback (Marvel Comics)

Người đăng: Unknown on Thứ Hai, 18 tháng 7, 2011

[Guest review by Doug Glassman]

Like many long-running comic book characters, Iron Man has a cyclical history. Tony Stark’s alcoholism is one recurring problem, resulting in two major story arcs, “Demon in a Bottle” and the “Stane Saga," the latter of which provided the villain Obidiah Stane for the first Iron Man film. Another, even longer-running problem is Stark’s difficulty in keeping his technology out of the hands of his enemies. This is one of the major themes of the current Invincible Iron Man series and was also a major plot point in the second Iron Man film. However, Stark’s insecurities are well-founded, and they mostly stem from one of the most famous Iron Man storylines: “Stark Wars.”

Newcomers to the franchise might be asking: “Don’t you mean ‘Armor Wars?’” Yes, this collection is better known (and titled) as Armor Wars, and in fact, Marvel solicited an “Armor Wars II” which took up much of John Byrne’s time on the title a few years later. But the story is officially called “Stark Wars," mostly as a pun on Star Wars.

Iron Man’s epic vendetta begins when his enemy Force becomes an ally and Stark discovers that Force's armor has elements of Stark’s designs. Many were leaked when Stane took over Stark’s company, and they are now in the possession of Justin Hammer, who applies them to the armors of his henchmen. After an unsuccessful court battle, Stark is able to procure files on the whereabouts of his technology from fellow Avenger Ant-Man -- all except one file. What happens next can best be described as a roaring rampage of revenge as Iron Man goes from one villain to the next, shorting out their armor and trying to locate the last user. He loses his reputation, teammates and even has to fake his own death before he finally finishes his quest.

The modern Iron Man is essentially defined here, starting with Stark’s infamous Jheri curl, which my generation remembers as his hairstyle on the Iron Man animated series. Thanks to colorist Nel Yomtov (every Transformers fan just shuddered), everyone who has black hair has it rendered blue; this includes Stark and Rhodes. You eventually get desensitized to it. After years of using the distinctive Silver Centurion armor, Stark switches back to the red and gold which he will wear almost exclusively through the present day. (The major exception to this is War Machine, but that armor has become so connected to Jim Rhodes that it almost goes forgotten that Stark wore it first.) He uses multiple armor types extensively for the first time, including the well-known Deep Sea and Stealth Armors.

More importantly, this is where Stark'ss paranoia and controlling tendencies come to the forefront. The weight of the deaths orchestrated by his technology being misused sends him into a frenzy, eventually causing Stark to kill someone himself; by this point, Stark had been fighting his past as a weapons maker for years. As a recovering alcoholic, Stark'ss control issues dominate his personality during this story. His guilt and feelings of ineffectiveness are best demonstrated in the last part of this trade. A coda with incredible art by Barry Windsor-Smith consists of Stark’s haunted nightmare of the crimes he feels responsible for and his attempt to get past this part of his life. You can tell that while he admits out in the open that he wants to put his troubles behind him, he never quite gets there.

“Armor Wars” features a huge amount of Marvel Universe supporting characters, guest stars and villains. The Beetle becomes part of Iron Man’s rogues gallery, and other featured villains include the Controller, the Raiders, Stilt-Man, Titanium Man and Crimson Dynamo. Very early on, Stark also considers Doctor Doom as a culprit; the story never picks up on this, and to be honest, I feel including featuring Doom would have derailed the plot. Iron Man also attacks a number of heroes, including SHIELD’s Mandroids, the Guardsman, the Captain and Stingray. For those unfamiliar with late-80s Marvel Comics, the Captain is Captain America, who gave up his name and uniform after refusing to follow the orders of the United States government. The man who replaced him would later take the black Captain uniform and become U.S. Agent. Stingray is, well, very minor, a government-employed ocean-based ally of Namor and an Avenger for a brief period. Armor Wars is Stingray’s finest moment, and at least he is visually interesting.

Speaking of visuals, David Michelinie’s second run on Iron Man also brings back his frequent co-writer and finisher, Bob Layton, this time joined by Mark D. Bright. Layton’s art remains one of the most influential Iron Man art styles. It is hard to define this style; I like to call it “angled roundness," drawing a near-perfect balance between the very round armor of Jack Kirby and the sharper suits of Adi Granov. The most similar artist I can think of is Jim Aparo, although Layton’s characters lack Aparo’s long, thin heads. My policy is that every Iron Man artist has the right to create their own armor, and Layton’s new creation at the end of the series is known as the Modern Armor for its longevity. The shoulderpads (though not as bulky as the Silver Centurion suit), the angled red chest chevron, the heavily-outlined unibeam and “popped” collar would remain in effect for years, even when Stark had to move to a remote-controlled unit. The main new villain of the story is Firepower, whose bulk invokes the Iron Monger. It is an interesting design, even though it has a massive rocket strapped to its back for most of the story.

Armor Wars is the definitive Iron Man story, adding some extra action to the same introspective nature of “Demon in a Bottle”. Quite simply, the entire character of Iron Man changes in this story to become the character we know today, and it is entirely for the better. If you are at all interested in Iron Man, whether through the comics or films, Armor Wars is a mandatory read. At $24.99, it may seem a little steep for what appears to be a thin trade, but Layton’s art fits a lot of panels in a very small space.

For a final remark, it is amazing the publicity one film can create. Before the first Iron Man film came out, you were lucky to find old Marvel Masterworks editions and the occasional Mask in the Iron Man trade. Now, the Iron Man section of your local comic book store has dozens of Iron Man trades, collecting both the newest arcs and the “Golden Age” of the 1980s and mid-1990s. All we need are “Crash and Burn” and “Hands of the Mandarin” trades to truly have a full appreciation of the best years of the Iron Man title.
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Because Stan Lee & Jack Kirby Said So!; Making Sense Of The Mighty Avengers (Part 2) "But What Diabolical Scheme Shall I Employ?"

Người đăng: Unknown on Thứ Hai, 20 tháng 12, 2010

continued from last Saturday;

1.

There are without doubt a host of reasons why someone might declare a particular version of a serial fiction property to be the definitive one, but, of course, there is no right answer. It's always a matter of opinion, and that's what makes each new re-invention of a comicbook as fascinating as it might be disappointing. We want to know whether a new approach to an old character can get it right, even as we know that there's no exclusively correct version at all. Yet, re-reading the Avengers work of Stan Lee and Jack Kirby has made me wonder whether there are some objective qualities that might be found in their work which make their portrayal of characters and concepts seem definitive. By this I mean that I've recently started to ponder whether the fusion of style and content that a team of creators adopts can carry a greater or lesser sense of authority with its readers. Is it possible that there's a way of presenting the superhero on the page which is more likely to cause the reader to decide that that is the version, that is the take, which should in future be acknowledged, respected and kept to? Because I suspect that some creators present their tales in such a way that causes, regardless of the story they're actually telling, the world they're depicting and the characters they're describing to appear to be more objective, more real, more definitive.


We might love a version of Spider-Man because it was the first comic book we ever read, or a take on Batman because we were exposed to it at a particularly vulnerable moment of early adolescence. We might be drawn to a specific artist's style, or to an emotional moment which touches us. But perhaps, beyond the content of the narrative and the nature of the superheroes involved, there are qualities of storytelling in this sub-genre which demand that we take what we're being shown seriously, that impose upon us the creator's version of events in such a way that leaves our imaginations less able, and less willing, to question the validity of what we're seeing.


2.

I'm not suggesting that the work of Lee and Kirby can be argued to constitute that least convincing of propositions, the utterly closed text, where meaning is completely fixed and narrative exists in a form that can't be quibbled with. (Such a comic book would be a form of Anti-Life Equation, after all, nullifying free will and stultifying the reader's creativity! Mr Kirby would never have approved.) And yet I am starting to believe that Stan Lee and Jack Kirby's work during the first two or three years of the Marvel Revolution of the early Sixties worked to often create an intense and supremely effective form of what we might call "Paternalistic" storytelling, in which far more of the authority for dictating what is happening on the printed page is held by the creators than is typically found today. "Paternalistic", of course, is a word which has been long held in disrepute by large swathes of folks who intuitively associate any kind of power with repression and tyranny, but I mean "paternalism" is the best of senses. After all, what could be more admirable than parents who take an appropriate responsibility for those they're looking after? And in the pages of Lee and Kirby's work from 1961 to 1965, roughly speaking, can be found a combination as well as a collision of styles which, in the most kindly and entertaining fashion, demands that the reader accepts the sense and detail of what's on the page regardless of how ridiculous and even nonsensical it is.


Put simply, Stan Lee and Jack Kirby's combined efforts work on the reader to guide them through a story in a highly controlled and specific sense. When first reading "The Coming Of The Avengers", for example, there's little space for the reader to generate doubts about whether events actually happened in the way that's shown. There's little need on first reading to start fleshing out Lee and Kirby's version of events with extra material, for most if not all doubts and questions and confusions are either obscured by their craft or made to seem irrelevant when considered in the light of how much sheer fun the reader is having. Lee and Kirby pick the reader up with that first splash page of Loki's splendid and haughty nose and propel their audience through the story at an ever-intensifying and yet deliberate and controlled pace until the final page is reached and roared past and there's finally a moment to blink, take a breath, and wonder what the business about the Hulk pretending to be a green robot was all about.

And that's what I'd like to try to discuss today, although I fear I lack the knowledge and the critical language to in any way fully explain the points I'm going to touch upon. But I'm so in awe, of the work that the two gentlemen produced for "The Avengers" # 1 that I'd like to try to earn myself just the slightest measure of a greater understanding of how they achieved what they did. To read "The Coming Of The Avengers" is to be given a snapshot of one moment in the revolutionary process by which Lee and Kirby took the paternalistic traditions of the American superhero book and, in fusing their craft with a previously unseen degree of vigour and innovation, changed everything.

3.

In praising the paternalistic style of Mr Lee and Mr Kirby as expressed at this particular point in their careers, I should say that I'm not suggesting that such an approach should be, or even could be, used in today's superhero comic books. That there's a huge amount about storytelling that might be learnt from just one page of the first issue of "The Avengers" shouldn't be taken as meaning that I'm asking for a return to the style and content of 1963. And yet it should be noted that a great deal of Alan Moore's very finest work, for example, has been in collaboration with artists who've used variations upon the three-tier, nine panel layout for their artwork so common to the first years of Marvel's rise.

And that three-tier, nine-panel grid is as apposite a marker of the Paternalistic style as any other, just as the innovations within it in the early Avengers are emblematic of the mutiny against the conventional that was the Marvel Comics of the period. By 1963, the nine-panel page was already a decades-long default setting for the organisation of the comic book's pages, and before that, for the comic strip too. But its survival as a staple of storytelling reflected its utility, its fundamental versatility, as much as its historical ubiquity. The nine-panel, three-tier page is perfect for providing a story which is packed with a concentration of incident and excitement while ensuring that the progression from action to action, to scene to scene, is as clear and involving as possible. The audience for comic books in 1963 was made up, after all, with the exception of an exceptional minority of almost exclusively male and young adult readers, of children. They were as likely to be extremely young as they were to be limited in their literacy. Comic book publishers survived by working on the assumption that their readers had never come across a comic book before, and by necessity presumed that their audience needed guiding through the process of consuming a story consisting of words and pictures, frames and gutters.


Indeed, the industry worked upon the assumption that each generation of comic book readers would be entirely replaced within at the most 24 months, and understood how important it was that each new replacement reader should be supported and claimed. The reader wasn't seen then as an active consumer who might want to take the time and energy to learn about the detail of continuity before being able to buy into each month's comics. It was the primary task of the comic book creator to paternally ensure that what was before the reader was not just interesting and exciting, but immediately and consistently comprehensible.

In such a context, the nine-panel page was as vital a method of attracting and holding a reader's attention as might be imagined. It permitted comic book creators to focus not just on the individual events that each story was constructed around, but also on the transitions from event to event. There was space in such a page to show not just, as in the example below, how The Hulk disabled Iron Man, but how that event came to be. The reader's hand was held tightly and, yes, caringly , by such a careful process through each comic book so that at no point did their attention waver because the jump from point "a" to point "b" confused and alienated them.

4.

It's certainly true that to the modern eye, the three-tier, nine-panel grid can look old-fashioned, monotonous and formulaic. Such an impression is in part undoubtedly true, and yet such rigid storytelling traditions permit slight digressions made within the standard formula which evoke considerable effects. As we'll discuss, the simple matter of replacing a three panel tier with a two-panel one emphasises the importance of the events depicted in the unexpectedly and untypically larger panels. And when an extreme digression occurs, such as when the Hulk appears on page 9 of "The Coming Of The Avengers" in a panel which takes up two entire tiers, the reader almost has to take a step backwards to cope with the sudden change of scale and the sheer impact of the scene before them. The principle of significant effect resulting from slight digressions from a norm is one which modern comics has largely lost, and it's a terrible shame. Worse than that, it's a tragedy, because one of the simplest techniques for creating amazement and focusing attention in a reader has been abandoned because the industry has in part forgotten how the nine-panel system actually worked. For the paternal approach wasn't entirely conservative. Within its constraints were pioneered a host of techniques for making what seemed like a deadhanded and static approach exciting and innovative.


We'll discuss some of those innovations in a moment, but before we do, it's important to note that the paternalistic nine panel grid doesn't just ground the reader in the business of reading comic books. It also reminds the creator that they are writing and drawing comic books which need to make transparent sense to their audience. It would take a remarkably willful and ignorant creator to take such a layout and consistently misuse it. Catastrophic failures in storytelling which are often obscured by sequences of story-thin pin-up pages in today's books just can't be masked within such a layout. The three-tier, nine panel page doesn't just make the reader compliant and attentive, it makes the creators into responsible tale-spinners too.


5.

Perhaps the best place to start in attempting to find something of the source of the authority that lies in Lee and Kirby's paternalistic collaborations of this period is to look a little closer at what each party brought to their work in The Avengers. For in "The Coming Of The Avengers", what's remarkable is that there are actually three more or less distinct storytelling voices often operating at the same time. There's the effect that arises from the combination of Mr Lee and Mr Kirby's work, but, almost uniquely, their individual voices don't disappear at all in their collaboration. Just as their work has a identity of its own which neither man's endeavours elsewhere carries, so their early Avengers's pages simultaneously carry their individual signatures too. Put simply, each page in the first issue of the Avengers has three intense and demanding voices all dominating and guiding the reader's attention at the same time; there's Mr Lee's words, there's Mr Kirby's art, and then there's the combined force of the two creating an effect through synergy which must have been utterly confounding and thrilling in its day, just as it remains vibrant and beguiling today.

6.

Perhaps the best way for me to try to illustrate this point is to start by looking at what each creator brought to a specific page. I thought it only fair not to load my argument before I'd made it, so I picked one of the less dramatic pages from the first issue of The Avengers, page 14. (See scan directly above.) And the foundation of this page and its effect is obviously the peerlessly clear and yet quite thrilling storytelling of Jack Kirby. We'll look at the fine detail of how each tier in this page "works" in a moment, but just to make a point, I'd like to present the page with Mr Lee's words removed from it;


Without Lee's words, the clarity and power of Jack Kirby's art becomes all the more impressive. Even though the above scan of the art can hardly carry the force of the original, having empty captions and balloons obscuring large areas of the original art, the absence of text still emphasises what a beautifully precise and supportive sense of storytelling Mr Kirby had. Not only does panel 1 flow into panel 2 and so on, but it does so in a way that's intriguing even if it's not appropriate for the scene to be exciting. Again, we'll talk about the details in a moment, and so I won't preempt myself for fear you'll think I've not noticed this or that point. But the key issue here is how Mr Kirby's page fulfils the three key criteria of paternalistic storytelling. It's clear in each panel, the transition between panels is similarly transparent, and even in its quieter moments, it's intriguing and involving.

It's not that the page we're discussing is absolutely typical of The Avengers in this period. In fact, it's the most narration-heavy example in the first few issues of The Avengers until the sixth page of issue 3. But as extreme examples often do, it allows us to see something of the various typical contributions of Lee and Kirby in a more obvious, exposed form. And here what we can note is how insistent and compelling the different contributions of Mr Kirby and Mr Lee could be, both individually and together.

It's fascinating, or at least I'm going to argue it is, to then study this same illuminating page with Mr Kirby's art removed and Mr Lee's words restored;

What's immediately noticeable is how Mr Lee approaches the matter of storytelling in a fashion that's remarkably rare today. For Mr Lee isn't just complimenting Mr Kirby's work, he's also in some senses competing with it too. Note how the placement of the captions and balloons is designed to carry the eye with some considerable momentum from the beginning to the end of the page regardless of whatever art is on display. It's a process that's been enabled by the professionalism of Mr Kirby, who had left the top third, and in particular the top-right third, of his panels free of major incident to allow the text to be added there. Lee's placement of narration, thoughts and speech regardless of its content into that space, is exemplary, and it's something which just doesn't get wide enough credit these days. Through his skill, the eye is drawn swiftly to the end of each tier, and then pulled downwards for the process to repeat itself. It's quite possible for the reader to experience a great deal of the sense of the page without doing anything more than glancing at the artwork, and yet, of course, Mr Kirby's work has its own narrative momentum and force working both with and parallel to Mr Lee's words. The text and its placement therefore acts as more than an extra level of information supplementing the art. It's a vital part of the construction of the page's visual meaning for the reader, and the source of a parallel, powerful and yet often redundant narrative running alongside Mr Kirby's storytelling.

Combined with this is the fact that Mr Lee's words themselves tell pretty much the same story as Mr Kirby's art does. It's an old tradition of both comic-strip and comic-book, of course, and it's a process rightly often lambasted for its redundancy. Yet, and here's another mark of Mr Lee's excess of competence, his text, though neither as competent or as daring as Mr Kirby's art , is vigorous and compelling. In this pinnacle of Lee and Kirby's use of the paternalistic style, both text and art power the reader across a page crammed full of movement and power, detail and excitement. To the raw, threatening and even now still-disturbing shots of Mr Kirby's Hulk is added the strange mix of immediacy and hyperbole that marks Mr Lee's words. Of course, Lee's words are ultimately somewhat purple and often quite unnecessary, whereas Mr Kirby's art stands in its own right as unambiguously excellent. But we're discussing the distinctly forceful brand of paternalistic storytelling these two gentlemen produced here, in this comic at this moment in time. My point is not to suggest that anything here is the highest form of comic book storytelling, though I suspect that much of it is relevant to such a concept, but to rather try to scratch away at why it was, and remains, a so very powerful and attention-fixing form of storytelling. The question is not "Would we do that today?", but "Look at how that effect was created then, and how might it be still be applied today!".


We can perhaps show how Mr Lee's text in part overcomes its own redundancy by showing how, in combination with the fact of its placement, it intensifies rather than merely describes the events in Mr Kirby's art. Below is a scan of the text from the first tier of this page with the captions placed in sequence, and it can be seen that not only is the story being told in Lee's words just as Kirby's art describes, but that Lee's style is as broad and forceful, if less subtle and effective, as Mr Kirby's panels are;
Of course, the words are often nonsensical. It's not the point of the paternalistic style to make sense! Rather, it's the point of the paternalistic style to be thrilling and clear in the terms of the story at hand while spiriting the reader past any looming uncertainties and sillinesses. "The Avengers"# 1 is full of scenes which make no sense at all, and of sentences which collapse at even a partial glance. But effect is all here, and the effect is invigorating and distracting, as thrilling as the first three chords of a garage band's first single. It doesn't matter that the phrase "the speed of a charging dreadnought", for example, makes even less sense than Mr Kirby's anatomy often did. Both that marvellous abstraction of the human and superhuman form by Mr Kirby and that broad and engaging silliness of Mr Lee performs the same function. It explains, excites, and then pushes, encourages and hauls, the reader onwards.

7.

Yet it's Mr Kirby's art which tends to provide the subtly of effect which is achieved in such scenes. It's not a rule which can be applied to all circumstances in The Avengers # 1, but it tends to be the best first analytical port of call. In order to try to show something of the little I can gleam of the matter, perhaps we start by looking at that first tier again;


The paternalistic approach needs to ensure that the reader is absolutely clear where incident and the progression between incidents is concerned, and, as we've said, the nine-panel, three-tier layout is undoubtedly a helpful if somewhat rigid method for achieving this. Yet the subtly of Mr Kirby's work, and the incredible depth of skill that he so modestly and effectively puts to use here, still staggers me. In those clever and slight digressions from the most obvious storytelling choices within a metronomic form lies a measure of Jack Kirby's genius. Perhaps I might be able to show this by presenting you with the scan of a photocopy I took of the above, from which I've removed the guttering between each of those first three panels;


Now, perhaps you were always aware of the things I'm about to say, but I wasn't, and I must have read the first issue of The Avengers in one form or another fifty or so times since the 1970s. And yet I never noticed that each of these panels, which appear fairly distinct in the printed layout, is far more closely linked to its fellows than first appears. The line of the ground remains constant from panel to panel, for example, creating the sense that the reader is almost watching key frames from a flicker-film book. The guttering on the page, as we can counter-intuitively see from its absence here, permits Mr Kirby to stage the Hulk's out-smarting of the Hulk with remarkable skill and to some considerable effect. Look, for example, at how the lines that indicate the Hulk's descent in the first panel continue into the second, creating a sense of momentum while allowing the presence of the gutter to indicate that a small amount of time has passed between the Hulk falling and rising again. And while the first two panels are close in composition, in order to show the relation of Bruce to Tony clearly, and to explain what's happening, the third panel is quite different. The Hulk and Iron Man are suddenly thrown together and drawn as larger figures, which accentuates the force of the Hulk's blows, and the sense of power and of the world turned upside down is doubled by the fact that the previously level ground now falls away to the bottom right-hand side of the last panel of this tier. (The landscape is suddenly dotted with sharp peaks too, increasing the sense of jeopardy.) In the previous two panels of the sequence, the issue was the way in which in the two super-people travelled above the ground and related to each other. In the third, part of the focus of the art is to show that Stark is going to crash to the ground, which tumbles away after the eye had registered Iron Man taking a pummelling from The Hulk.


Those three panels are so skillfully and effectively designed that it's hard to comprehend how much skill and knowledge is reflected in their composition. Without fracturing the three panel layout of that first tier, time is manipulated, anticipation and mystery created, and then the explosive and destructive effect of the final confrontation established. Most of all, the second panel is perhaps the most important. How audacious is it that only Iron Man's boots are being shown, for example, a matter which few if any modern-day artists would consider showing. (It seems such a silly thing to place at the extreme right-hand side of a panel!) And yet that frame not only continues the sequence established in the first, but it creates a pause in the action which forces the reader to calculate what will happen next. And that anticipation is actually heightened by Stan Lee's declaration in the narrative box above that the Iron Man who we can see little of is "startled" by the Hulk's strategy, meaning that we can see the action through Stark's perceptions too as well as through Mr Kirby's staging. This is not going to end happily for Tony, we realise, because the force of his forward momentum is going to be added to the downward force of the Hulk's fist.. And that's exactly what happens.


Perhaps I might be forgiven saying the point again. The modern-day artists has a vast arsenal of techniques to manipulate time and anticipation in their command, and many of them use those skills fantastically well. Yet Kirby is achieving remarkable effects within a quite static panel layout, and he's doing so within what would today be considered as tiny little panels. And Lee is increasing the speed at which this scene is perceived and the intensity by which it is understood by the placement of his text and through words he uses to describe events.

Creators are often are their most interesting when they're discovering how to thoroughly shake up expressive forms which are well-established and somewhat limiting. The cleverness and capability which marks Mr Kirby and Mr Lee's work here is remarkable in many ways, and not least because we can see them continuing to stretch how the old Paternalistic forms were usually put to use. Kirby in particular had long been doing so, and soon the whole paternalistic approach would start to collapse, to be ultimately replaced, as we'll discuss later this week, in a more post-modern form which characterises much of The Avengers work of Brian Michael Bendis.

To be continued;


My sincere thanks for the Splendid Wife and her skilled and steady hands for removing text and art from photo-copies of the page we discussed above. That Silversmithing degree and the many and varied skills it involved sure does come in handy!

Next time; we'll take a look at the mid-tier, last panel scene changer, the masking of nonsensical aspects of superhero tales, the irrelevancy of closure and the informing presence of continuity even at the dawn of the Marvel Era. We'll also start to compare it with what we might call the post-modern style of the BMB era of The Avengers, and I come not to bury either the old or the new Caesars, I assure you! I hope you might consider popping in as I try to express something of the peculiar force of Lee and Kirby's adaption of the paternalistic style, which I clearly grasp little of! A splendid day is wished to all and sundry, and do "Stick Together!".


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Jon Favreau's "Iron Man II":- What Tony Stark Once Suffered To Learn, Tony Stark Soon Forgot: The Superhero Beyond The Comics 2

Người đăng: Unknown on Thứ Năm, 28 tháng 10, 2010


1.

Everyone's at least something of a villain in "Iron Man II", except for some of our superhero's friends and those thoroughly unaccountable Agents Of Shield, and yet one of the very worst of the bad guys is Tony Stark himself.



2.

There's no doubt that one of the antagonists in "Iron Man II" is the American state itself, as represented by her government and her armed forces. The movie portrays Senators and generals as incompetent and self-serving individuals who simply can't grasp that Tony Stark should be permitted to do whatever he wants to because Iron Man is here to save us all. It's a juxtaposition between, on the obviously good side, a roguish and dynamic capitalist billionaire, and, on the clearly bad side, those conceited and short-sighted servants of the state, and it's a contrast that's strangely referred to by Jon Favreau in his director's commentary, where he discusses Stark's appearance before Senator Stern's committee;

"Here he is ... Howard Hughes trial ... where they're trying to nail this guy down, but his personality is too large. And he has public opinion upon his side, because he's doing wonderful things, and there is peace and there is prosperity. And he's more powerful than the Senate, and it's almost like Caesar. It's like a Caesar-like rise ... that we wanted to mirror .. "

It's such an odd thing to say, but it explains a great deal about a movie that sees Tony Stark repeatedly place the security of America and the safety of its citizens at terrible risk, before being counter-intuitively rewarded with a medal for his self-interested actions from the US Government.


Because Mr Favreau doesn't seem to grasp that Caesar destroyed the Roman Republic, and destroyed it because he acted in his own interests rather than that of the state. In doing so, he wiped off the map what little political freedom remained in Ancient Rome, and set the newly minted Roman Empire on course for decades of Civil War, hundreds of thousands of casualties, and centuries of despotic, rather than oligarchic, rule. Caesar isn't the hero of anyone's history but his own, unless you happen to be a fan of tyrants and their tyrannies, and I'm sure that Mr Favreau most certainly isn't that.

And Howard Hughes? Howard Hughes corrupted the American political process for decades with vast sums of illicit cash and huge reserves of political muscle.

Which means that positioning Tony Stark in their likeness, as they scorned the political process in the name of nothing but their own utterly-selfish interests, is either a considerable miscalculation, or the most subtle ironic colouring a director's ever given to a Hollywood blockbuster movie.


3.

"Iron Man II" isn't a film which can watched and enjoyed in isolation from the first movie in the franchise, beginning as it does at the moment that the main action of "Iron Man" closed. But there's a fatal discontinuity between the meaning of the first movie and that of the second, which means that the films don't so much follow smoothly one on after the other as they do stand in direct contradiction to themselves. In essence, the problem is that the Tony Stark of "Iron Man II" has either pathetically regressed from the self-knowledge he acquired from his trials, or that he's not the same person at all in the two films, despite all appearances.


4.

The first movie was a unpretentious masterpiece of concision and precision. The arc of "Iron Man" was, of course, the story of Tony Stark's heroic journey from irresponsible capitalist to humane businessman, and everything that appeared on the screen was subordinate to the simplicity and purpose of his vertiginous learning curve. The charming, charismatic Stark was a symbol of the destructive excesses of privilege; he was the capitalist with a supposed big heart and zero self-awareness, unable to help himself grasp that love was standing before him just as he was damning untold numbers of victims who stood where he could never witness their fate. And if Stark couldn't be said to be as crippled inside as the victims of his weapons were both in mind and body, he certainly wasn't benefiting from a life of such unimaginable wealth and indulgence, given that when trouble came, there was only Pepper Potts that he might truly rely on to help him out.


Tony Stark, in his impossible extremes of advantage and his various substance abuses, in his adrenalin-fuelled faux-narcissism and relentless promiscuity, was everything that the movie "Iron Man" was against. He was an unthinking, uncaring beneficiary of the freedoms of modern American society who had turned away from his responsibilities as an individual citizen and member of the human race.

People had died because Tony Stark hadn't even cared enough to recognise that what supposedly benefited him so greatly had horribly wounded and murdered them, and in the end, his disengagement from his moral self was going to terribly hurt him and then almost kill him.


5.

In retrospect, it's astonishingly how few characters there are in "Iron Man" who're granted even the slightest slither of screen time. There's Tony, of course, who's wounded the world and who now must be wounded himself until he chooses to grow up. There's Pepper, the symbol of the decent and loving life that Stark can't engage with as long as he remains corrupt. There's Rhodey, the mirror who shows us through his courage, strength and loyalty that Stark too has those qualities, or Rhodey couldn't care for him as he does. There's Dr Yinsen, who teaches Tony what it is to care for others at great cost to oneself, and who so tellingly helps to create a dysfunctional artificial heart for Stark which works better in a moral sense that his fully-functioning natural one ever did. There's Odadiah Stane, Tony's surrogate Father who's the symbol of predatory selfishness, the capitalist that cares for nothing so much as he does for more power and money. And there's Raza, if you can call him a character at all, a symbol of all the pain and suffering that inevitably gets kicked up when power without responsibility starts to meddle in other people's lives.


To feature just five characters of any substance and one type in a movie lasting longer than two hours is a remarkable achievement, especially as the film never feels sparse or under-populated. (*1) Instead, the remarkable accomplishment of the script and the production together is that text and sub-text are always pulling together in the same direction with considerable force and meaning. And of course, to do so, everyone's story is subordinated to Tony's, and as Tony learns what it is to be a human being and not a social parasite, so each of the others is either rewarded or punished according to the degree that they've sought and used power and wealth to hurt or help others.

Most importantly, Stark himself suffers grievously for his sins. He quite literally loses his own heart, an irony which was quite lost to Stan Lee when he wrote the initial origin for the character in 1963, and a fact which lay dormant in the strip for years until its metaphorical power became obvious and irresistible. And so, how brilliant is it that even Tony's new heart can't function properly until he rethinks it and then trusts Pepper to help him install it? He trusts her not just because he has to, because he has no-one else, but because he wants to, because it's the last act of his necessary emasculation and one of the first of his rise upwards, a process defined not by his ability to hurt others, but by his capacity to trust them and sacrifice for them.

"Iron Man" isn't just a brilliantly concise script. It's a marvellously constructed morality play. And since the morality and the story coexist and serve each other's interests all the time, the ending of the movie is far, far more satisfying than a typical popcorn movie blow-out.


*1:- I hope you'll agree that Ms Everhart is too slight a role to mention here.


6.

The assumption of "Iron Man II" seems to be that Tony Stark is now a hero and that anything he does will be a reflection of some moral superiority. Quite simply, Stark can do nothing wrong even when he's plainly doing little else but. Even the most terrible and immoral screw-ups by Stark in the film are swiftly papered over and retribution for them never arrives in the process of the narrative or even at its closure. In fact, Stark's failings and conceit are actually purposefully disguised or largely ignored in the story, so that behaviour which should be portrayed as at best immature and at worst profoundly dangerous are either shown as humorous, or worthy of pity, or even admirable.

Consider again Stark's appearance before Senator's Stern's Committee near the beginning of the film. The scene is fixed so that it's Stern who appears to be the dangerously would-be demagogue, and his scientific advisor Hammer is played out as a self-serving idiot. It's an ugly business, actually, because the case the two of them are putting forward is morally and politically correct in pretty much every detail. No nation-state could ever tolerate a private citizen owning such a weapons-system as the Iron Man armour, let alone retaining sole individual control over it. America is a nation where, for all the absence of gun-control puzzling to the European mind, weapons capable of flattening skyscrapers are, shall we say, tightly controlled. The Iron Man armour is capable of destroying any conventionally armed representative of the state that we might imagine, let alone flattening much of any city in the land, and so it's hard not to believe that Stark's possession of it would be, and very much should be, a cause for serious concern. Furthermore, Stark is a citizen of the USA, and it actually is his duty to share, if not indeed cede, the control of that technology. He's a citizen of the polity and it's utterly inappropriate for him to possess control of a super-weapon which could threaten the state. After all, if something happens to Stark without America having the scientific knowledge to prepare a defence against the proliferation of the Iron Man technology, the USA would be at a considerable disadvantage in terms of both conventional warfare and defence against terrorist attack.


Yet the film presents a fiction in which all Government servants, be they scientists, politicians or soldiers, are so utterly incompetent, if not also criminally viperous, that they shouldn't be in control of the technology used to make parking meters, let alone in charge of the nation-state of America and its massive arsenal. It's a fixing of the argument through misdirection and moral carelessness that ends up presenting Stark as a man of the people rather than one behaving in a profoundly anti-democratic sense. And yet, if the weapons system Stark had developed had been a selection of super-smallpox viruses, for example, I doubt he would be being seen by the audience of "Iron Man II" as the hero of the piece, threatening the nations of the world as he would be with a far less visually-inspiring and far more emotionally and intellectually disturbing threat. Indeed, few viewers would believe that any biological weapons Stark might create should be in anything other than a government laboratory if not a furnace.

It's as if we're all so beguiled by the beauty of the armour and the romance of wearing it, as well as the endearing marvel that's Mr Downey's performance, that we forget that Iron Man is a weapon of mass destruction that could create a disaster on the scale of 9-11 in a second, and that it couldn't ever be left in the private hands of even the best of women and men, let alone one prone to bouts of massively irresponsible behaviour.


But although the Iron Man armour is undoubtedly a WOMD, the movie is absolutely determined to portray Stark as the only human being who deserves to wear it, as if Stark's judgement is perfect, and perfectly in harmony with the needs of America's citizens, as if he'll never be too tired, drunk, ill or just plain human to run the risk of making a terrible misjudgment with all that power at his disposal.

As if everyone else in the American state is unworthy to even ask Stark if they can touch the shiny skin of his lovely armour.

But by refusing to share or destroy the Iron Man technology, Stark is, as Caesar did, putting himself above the rule of law. And, despite what the movie would have us believe, if you doubt that Senator Stern was correct in his argument with Tony, just recall the scene where Stark gets drunk, brawls with a similarly bearmoured Rhodey, terrifies his party-guests, puts them all at great risk and then destroys the building they're in. Whether it's his property or not that's been blown up by the childish punch-up, the very fact of the fight should serve as the beginning and end of the evidence needed to prove that Stark simply should not have that tech under his control. For he can't argue that he's trustworthy if he's plainly not, as if one catastrophic lapse of judgement is forgivable if you're Tony Stark, as if one little blow-up between two WOMDs on private property is a quiet petty matter of no social importance.


But then, it isn't just one lapse of judgment, and this movie's take on Stark provides us with an arrogant and ignorant man for whom the lessons of the first movie seem almost to have been quite utterly forgotten. He continually parades a habit of quite terrible decision-making, selfish behaviour and confused thinking in general. He claims, for example, that no-one else in the world can possibly produce weapons-tech similar to the Iron Man armour that might threaten America, as if he knows nothing of history, as if he's never heard of the complacency of the West before the Soviets exploded their own atomic bombs, and as if he doesn't realise that defence systems need to be developed now in case his brilliant mind is wrong. It's an unforgivable arrogance that the film never calls him on despite the appalling consequences of his conceit when Whiplash later uses stolen Stark technology in a vast terrorist atrocity which the movie chooses to portray as a rather thrilling special effects set-piece. And Stark's failure to adequately protect his super-weapon suits from theft, and Rhodey has no problem at all in stealing the "War Machine", is the root cause of the damage all those Hammer weapon suits rain down on Jersey. It's a carelessness on Stark's part that's the equivilant of the US Army permitting the removal of a nuclear weapon and its silo and everything in it, but the film would have us forgive Stark's lapse simply because we love him and trust Rhodey.

In such a manipulative fashion does "Iron Man II" smother us with illogic and sentiment to the point that we can't see Stark for the public and criminal menace that he is, and he undoubtedly is. We watch the film's climax, for example, where a smug Tony is being given that medal for his role in facing down Whiplash's assault upon Flushing Meadows, and we are supposed to have never noticed that it was all Tony's fault. He let the tech fall into Rhodey's hands, just as in his extreme arrogance he failed to focus on preparing a defence against the Iron Man system falling into the wrong hands or being developed independently. And so the responsibility for the firefight which destroyed so much of Queens at the film's climax, and which cannot have done anything but destroy of tens of lives and destroyed billions of dollars of property and vital civic resources, is all on Stark's hands. He really wasn't to be trusted, he really wasn't in control, and he really shouldn't have been permitted to keep those wonderful and ferociously powerful weapons in the garage under his little beach house.

He's not a hero and he doesn't deserve a medal, he really doesn't. "Iron Man II" is a movie that lies to us about what right and wrong are, just as the first movie did exactly the opposite.


7.

If "Iron Man II" is yet another movie that, without intending to, positions the state as an incompetent if not evil organisation somehow existing solely as a body to screw up the lives of otherwise virtuous individuals, it's also a movie that violates its own apparent moral intentions. For if the events of the first "Iron Man" are to mean anything, in sense of the broad ethical brushstrokes that inform Hollywood blockbusters, Tony has to be seen to have absorbed what he's learnt at such cost to himself and so many others in Afghanistan and in Stane's LA. It isn't, after all, a heroes journey if the hero returns from the land of dead and forgets to recall the truths that he learned there.

And yet the Stark we find in "Iron Man II" is plainly still a moral idiot, which might generate time-filling conflict and the audience's pity, but it isn't true to the first film. Unhappily hesitating to go to a party and yet drinking to excess before blowing the building up isn't a sign, for example, that Tony's reformed his ways. It's a sign that after all the trouble in the first movie, he still hasn't learned his lesson. He still can't trust Pepper, he's still an adrenalin junkie at the races, he's still courting the excesses of celebrity life, and he's still thinking of himself before others, even though he's slightly kinder than he was before.


For the first Iron Man movie is rendered a waste of emotional involvement if all that Tony can show in the way of self-knowledge in the second movie is a slight measure of gratitude and sorrow. And if Tony won't share or control his tech, control his behaviour, trust his friends or accept responsibility for his actions, if he permits himself the award of a medal when he should be in a cell somewhere, or being sued into absolute poverty in the law-courts, then he's learnt nothing.

And so, when the second movie ends on Stark being given that obviously worthless piece of metal and a pretty ribbon for his part in suppressing a major terrorist crisis which he through his negligence and arrogance caused, I can only conclude that the pressure of creating "Iron Man II" was so intense that Mr Favreau and his team missed the fact that the Senator should've been waving Tony off to a Federal Prison rather than spitefully sticking a tiny needle into Stark's chest.


8.

And so "Iron Man II" simply doesn't function as a conventional and humane morality play, which is a shame, because superhero movies always seem to work best when they're constructed to clearly reflect moral as well as personal conflicts. And yet, so diffuse is the second movie in its multiplicity of roles and ill-defined and separate plots, that it's hard to make sense of what it means on a symbolic level. Or more truthfully, it's hard to accept what the movie is saying given the excellence of its predecessor and the obvious gifts and hard work of the movies creators. But watching the film time and time again, it seems sadly true that it is indeed a film in praise of Caesar and whatever at all Caesar might choose to do, as if the individual capitalist and man of great power should indeed be granted the status of saviour of the Republic regardless of the fact that he's disobeying the Republic's laws.

It's as if any attempts by that spoilsport state to stop Stark partying with his repulsors, to deny Tony his apparent right to threaten to drop in and blow up foreign powers as well as homebased opponents, is somehow a threat to, rather than a denial of, civil liberties.


It's as if what gets said and shown in movies is irrelevant as long as the audience is having fun, fun, fun.

And the fact of that is a genuine shame. For in the first movie, Tony Stark was our representative in the world of the idle and uncaring super-rich. He was lost there and only became himself when he was locked away with his mortality and his guilt, with the memory of Dr Yinsen's sacrifice and Pepper's love for him. But "Iron Man II" has a quite different take on the super-rich, it seems, or at least, the capitalist class that are brilliant and wildly entertaining if socially irresponsible. Stark is a hero because he's Stark and we love him, regardless of what he does, but the government is unfit to trust, the army are all morons except for rare individuals who stand with our heroes even as they steal from them, democratic oversight is not to be trusted, and only the capitalists like Hammer who're too incompetent to produce good work without putting Russian super-villains to use aren't to be trusted.

It's not what you do that counts, apparently, but who you are, and whether we love you or not.

Worse yet, it's a movie that makes self-pitying excuses for the immorality and incompetence of its own hero. Tony's dying, so of course he can mess around with those WOMDs at parties. Tony wasn't loved by his father, so of course he finds it hard to love, and so on. But whatever the narrative evasions, the hero's journey doesn't permit excuse-clauses to modify whether the heroically-transforming programme takes or not, and so, this Iron Man simply isn't a hero, just as the Stark of the first film most certainly was.


9.

Nothing happened in "Iron Man" that wasn't designed to tell us something about Tony's fall and rise as a mensch. But the connection between events and meaning is so confused in "Iron Man II" that it's no surprise that the film closes with such a soggy and smug ending. The narrative's momentum is constantly slowed and often quite derailed by water-cooler moments and bright ideas that aren't connected to anything other than passing fancy and the need to get a movie into the theatres regardless of whether it makes sense or not. Why, for example, is Stark dying of the "palladium" in his system? If it's further punishment for all his sins as an arms manufacturer, or even for his continued arrogance, then how can we make sense of his release from slow death achieved by the odd and painless penance of learning to love Daddy? Stark hasn't sacrificed anything beyond accepting the evidence of his eyes and ears when faced with his father's dewy-eyed testimony on film. In fact, Stark's freed from his suffering while his appropriated technology is still out there in the world; the hero has been rewarded despite doing nothing of social value at all to deserve it. Nor does he seem to have learned anything of moral value from his experience of being poisoned, except that perhaps he might love himself abit more because daddy loved him. But then, Stark's journey in "Iron Man II" is to consistently screw-up and to then be helped out when he hasn't earned his rescue. Indeed, if he hadn't been given his father's work by Nick Fury, Stark wouldn't even have avoided a painful deathful by macguffin. He's survived through chance, through no specific sacrifice, and with no essential moral knowledge gained.

Well, what was the point of it all then?


It's another example of how any meaning that can be taken from the film is either absurd or disturbing, and that couldn't have been the intention. After all, if the Tony of "Iron Man II" is dying, the logic of the hero who's already faced death is to seek an end that helps others, not to go racing in Monte Carlo. And so even when Stark puts Whiplash's rampage to an end, he's only cleaning up a desperately awful mess that he's largely responsible for in the first place; it doesn't mean anything in terms of behaving heroically, especially given that he emerges unharmed and unreformed himself. He's not protecting the people so much as tidying up his own mistakes.

Tony's not even fully aware of the sins he's committing, because the movie-makers themselves don't seem to have been, or perhaps they didn't care, and so he can't convincingly earn absolution, let alone our respect, at the end of "Iron Man II". That medal stands for nothing of value at all.

Lost in a mass of plot-lines and a melee of barely realised and irrelevant characters, and hiding in plain sight beside moments of genuine pleasure and some extremely wearing camp slapstick, lies a reversal of moral purpose. The first Iron Man movie showed how Tony Stark became part of the human race. The second shows how he's somehow now superior to the rest of us, safe above his fellow citizens and their laws, and, look, he even gets a medal and the hand of Pepper Potts too at the end.


But that new heart of his is now powered by what Jarvis declares to be "a new element", an impossibly rare and expensive substance, the knowledge of which has been passed down from one generation of the inconceivably rich Stark family to another without having been made public knowledge in the meantime. The secret science that might save the world from all its energy problems has been locked away for decades until it might save Tony.

It's a story-fact that provides as coherent a meaning as any other from this confused movie, which seems to be about how the super-rich and the super-bright and the super-fortunate can do what they want in their own interests, and even in defiance of their best interests, even down to the hoarding of ideas that might so positively transform the world and weapons which certainly could destroy it.

But Tony already had a new heart, a heart that worked perfectly well. We saw Pepper help him put it into place, and the last thing he needed was a fancier, more expensive model at all.

10.

Well, of course it's good fun. The creators and performers are clearly often brilliant. But it's confused and ill-thought through, and Caesar never was a hero. He brought down the Republic because he didn't want to do what the state demanded of him, because he felt that he was better, that he was more important, than everyone else. He was the most brilliant general with the most fearsome army in all of the Roman Republic and he wanted to do whatever he thought was best.

It's not a good example. You can't dress a democrat in a demagogue's clothes and not confuse the point, just as you can't have a hero who faces his own mortality in one movie and then forgets all the lessons he's learned when facing his imminent death in the next.


nb: added December 1st, 2010: there's an alternative and far more positive reading of the film offered by one Johnny Sorrow in the comments below. You'll need to scroll down a fair way, but it's a well-written piece and given that it completely disagrees with the above, I would recommend you take a look. It'd be worth your while.

Thanks you for visiting. Coming soon; "Darkest Night" and a 2000 ad-based piece. I hope you might consider dropping in at some time and seeing how those two ideas have developed, and that you'll accept my best wishes for your having a splendid day.



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