Announcing Adam Beechen Week

Người đăng: Unknown on Chủ Nhật, 24 tháng 4, 2011

Writer Adam Beechen made his mainstream DC Comics debut with a controversial Robin run with former Batgirl Cassandra Cain emerging as a villain. Beechen continued to write about Cain through Teen Titans and to her eventual rehabilitation.

Recently, Beechen wrote a well-received Batman Beyond mini-series set in the current (not animated) DC Universe.  DC is releasing his new Batman Beyond series "day-and-date" in both digital and print formats.

This week on Collected Editions, we will look at two notable collections of Beechen's work, Batgirl: Redemption and Batman Beyond: Hush Beyond. And on Wednesday, join us for a special Q & A with Adam Beechen, where we talk about Batgirl, Batman Beyond, and of course, collected editions.

It'll be an interesting week with a focus on a much-talked-about writer. Don't miss it!
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Người đăng: Unknown


Number 935


Rubeny


When the Filipino comic artists were introduced to us American comic book readers nearly 40 years ago, I quickly came up with some favorites whose work I looked for. Ruben Yandoc, who sometimes went under the name Rubeny, is an artist I like. Yandoc had honed his skills for years in the local Philippine comics industry. The blog, PilipinoKomiks says, "Yandoc was at his best when illustrating fantasy and horror stories, the kind of which I consider Philippine gothic. It was a very popular genre in the early years of komiks in the Philippines." He includes a 4-page story by Yandoc from 1951.

These stories are some from copies of DC's mystery comics I had close at hand. "Fear Is A Nameless Voice" is written by George Kashdan and is from The Unexpected #143, 1973; "The Totem's Threat" by Carl Wessler and Yandoc, is from The Unexpected #147; "Over My Dead Body," also by Wessler, is from The Witching Hour #34. Kashdan also wrote "Blood Of Our Fathers," for The Witching Hour #42, 1974, which fits the description of gothic.


























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Người đăng: Unknown on Thứ Sáu, 22 tháng 4, 2011


Number 934



Rio seems straight, with her seams straight


Señorita Rio, the lovely spy we love, is back. This time, according to the Grand Comics Database, drawn by comic book journeyman Maxwell Elkans and inked by either Elkans or George Evans (they use the ? after the name, so they aren't sure, but the inks look like Evans to me). The story is from Fight Comics #54, 1948.

We have featured Rio before, in Pappy's #682 and Pappy's #803.

I love Rio, who goes through this adventure while wearing a skirt with a hem that flutters about mid-thigh, high heels, and nylons. She is very talented: even while swimming she can keep the seams of her stockings straight. In this story she also wears those textured nylon "arm stockings," for lack of a better word. I don't know what they're called. They're sexy, though.

Fight Comics had two gorgeous stars, Tiger Girl and Rio, twice the bang for your comic book dime in the late 1940s.








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Review: Batman: Time and the Batman hardcover/paperback (DC Comics)

Người đăng: Unknown on Thứ Năm, 21 tháng 4, 2011

"Time is pliable," writer Grant Morrison reminds us again and again in the aptly-named Time and the Batman. To that end, what you thought was your life, even the people you make mad along the way, could all be one big revenge scheme set by someone in the future just to mess with you. It's an idea Geoff Johns floated by way of Barry Allen in Flash: Rebirth, and it's what Morrison suggested for Batman in The Return of Bruce Wayne, and crystallizes here.

And yet, it's hard to put my finger on just why Time and the Batman was necessary at all. If not the second of a three-part trilogy (which it might be, between Return and Batman & Robin: Batman Must Die, though it certainly doesn't advertise itself as the middle volume of such), then Time and the Batman seems an effort in over-explaining. Maybe that's necessary; maybe the market's had so much complicated Morrison material of late that a little hand-holding is in order ("Understand that much," Morrison's Batman repeats at one point, and "You're learning ... You're all learning," at another).

Or maybe this is another exercise in time being pliable -- it's hard to know what the original connection was meant to be between Morrison's Final Crisis and Batman RIP, if at all, and Time and the Batman's bridging of these two books may be as much about explanation as it is patching "the hole in things," Time and the Batman's phrase for the secrets and coincidences in life that just don't, or weren't ever meant to, fit.

[Contains spoilers]

The middle part of Time and the Batman presents two "missing chapters" from Batman RIP that take Batman from the end of RIP to the beginning of Final Crisis. There was much fan uproar at the time of RIP's conclusion in that it seemed to present the death of Batman, but there again was the hero whole and hearty at the beginning of Final Crisis; a throwaway line in another story confirmed that Batman did make it home alive between the books. The missing chapters build on that; yes, Batman did get home after RIP, and even went so far as to give formal thanks to his partners for their help, but all the while he avoided putting on the cape and cowl, knowing instinctively that Black Glove Simon Hurt's curse -- that the next time Batman wore his cowl would be the last -- was true. Then, Final Crisis comes, Batman is called into service, he puts on the cowl, and next thing you know, he's Darkseid-chow.

Frankly, a lot of this I got from The Return of Bruce Wayne. We already know that Simon Hurt nee Bruce's ancestor Thomas Wayne is a minion of Darkseid, so the idea that Hurt's cowl prophecy in RIP played out in Final Crisis stands to reason -- if one re-reads RIP after Return, they pretty much get it. We know that Batman's past is prologue -- that Darkseid has corrupted Batman's ancestors in the past, before Batman and Darkseid ever meet, so as to destroy Batman in the future. And we know that Superman searches for Batman in time because Batman left a recording from the Stone Age -- this also we get from Return (though I very much enjoyed the tone Morrison creates for what's potentially Batman's last letter to Superman -- friendly, needling, awe-struck). The missing chapters take us through the steps, they build Batman's sense of dread between RIP and Final Crisis, but I'm not sure they reveal much that's new.

At least one explanation I can offer is that Time and the Batman speaks to what I consider to be Morrison's modus operandi when it comes to Batman stories. As in Batman RIP, and also as in some of Morrison's JLA stories, Time and the Batman shows us that Batman was never in as much danger as we thought he was; whereas we might have thought Darkseid had the jump on Batman in Final Crisis, it turns out Batman to an extent already knew Darkseid was coming for him, and even knew the bullet to use and that he might end up lost in time. This is not, as I've mentioned before, my favorite aspect of Morrison's Batman -- should Batman always be smarter than his enemies? Sure. Do we constantly need to be reminded of it? No. -- but it's one way Time and the Batman redefines Batman's last moments in Final Crisis, if unnecessarily.

What I did like about this whole sequence was that Morrison takes the reoccurring bullets/holes/Darkseid-is-the-"hole-in-things" theme just a little farther, and suggests that Darkseid wasn't just responsible for corrupting Simon Hurt and inspiring the Barbatos cult, but also for the death of Thomas and Martha Wayne. The radion bullet with which Darkseid shot his son Orion, Morrison has Batman explain, is the proto-bullet, the mythical bullet, essentially every bullet that's ever been shot and the template for all bullets to follow, the bullet responsible for any number of tragic murders throughout history, and also the one that killed Thomas and Martha Wayne. And if the radion bullet is that bullet, then Darkseid himself is the wound; through a series of jumbled images, Morrison suggests that when Darkseid falls through time at the end of Final Crisis, he makes a hole through existence, a hole of tragedy and loss, including the wounds in Thomas and Martha Wayne.

Darkseid, essentially, kills Batman's parents for the purpose of creating Batman so as to torture Batman. These kinds of metaphysical knots are what Morrison has become known for lately, and I like this particular knot a lot (though readers may understandably still find it easier just to chalk the whole thing up to Joe Chill).

The question remains, however, whether Batman RIP was originally meant to tie in to Final Crisis, or if this became an item of necessity late in DC's Final Crisis plans. If the latter, it explains in part the necessity of these so-called "missing chapters," giving some cohesiveness to the RIP and Final Crisis stories that could otherwise be read on their own. With the missing chapters now in publication, a part of me wishes DC might have withheld the "Last Rites" stories, #682-683, and maybe replaced them with the still uncollected #684 and Detective #851 )even as I would have been up in arms clamoring for those issues) so as to put them here with the missing chapters. In that way, RIP wouldn't contain a whiff of Final Crisis and would truly stand as its own story, and the twain only would meet in Time and the Batman, perhaps justifying the purpose of this trade a little farther.

The first chapter of Time and the Batman, the anniversary Batman #700 issue, sat better with me. It is also removed from most of the current goings-on in Batman & Robin and such, though it does tie in to Return, spotlighting the time travel scientist Carter Nichols (and pre-Crisis figure) that Bruce Wayne meets in the past. As befits an anniversary issue, and in line with similar sentiments in RIP, Return, the "missing chapters" and so on, this is an issue about Batman and heroism; "No matter when, no matter where" the issue intones at the end, at the Bat-signal cinematically lights in front of the reader, Batman (be it Bruce, Dick Grayson, Terry McGinnis, or another) will always be there.

In an unusual but nice turn, it's Batman's example that inspires Nichols to overcome his depression after a traumatic attack by the Joker (Q: "What can you beat but never defeat?" A: Time and [or, "but also"] the Batman; that is, a hero). We don't often hear about Batman inspiring the public to better themselves, as opposed to Superman, but Batman does it twice in this book, both with Nichols and with Ellie, the girl from Batman and Son whom he inspired to give up prostitution. That "Batman will never die" has been an uplifting theme of Morrison's long Batman run, and it's summed up nicely here on the precipice between the end of the "Batman Reborn" storyline and the beginning of the Batman Inc. phase.

The final story in Time and the Batman is a satisfactory tale of three Robins -- Dick, Tim Drake, and Damian Wayne -- by Fabian Nicieza; it might in another volume have rated higher, except the ending is rather predictable and the story lacks the headiness of Morrison's outings. As well, Nicieza's story references (somewhat confusingly) events taking place in his Red Robin: Hit List book, the collection of which won't be in stores until the end of June. It all ties in to the ongoing "Batman Reborn" Vicki Vale plot; this is not Nicieza's fault, but I've had the toughest time following that story between collections (She's in Batman! No wait, Streets of Gotham! No wait, Red Robin!), and so tacking Nicieza's story at the end of this volume (padding what might otherwise have been a rather short book) is just a reminder of that confusion.

I haven't read Batman & Robin: Batman Must Die yet, but I have a good sense that of this strange trilogy, Time and the Batman may be the weakest part (if brilliantly imagined and beautifully drawn by Andy Kubert, Tony Daniel, and Frank Quitely notwithstanding). If bullets shot backward in time make your head spin, I'm not sure this volume will necessarily make things clearer, but I think that's what was intended. I wasn't dazzled, but there's heady stuff here, to be sure, and for that Grant Morrison has my appreciation.

[Contains full and variant covers, pin-up section and computer-rendered tour of the Batcave. Printed on glossy paper]

New reviews and a Collected Editions special event coming next week -- don't miss it!
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Trade Perspectives: Long reviews of late ...

Người đăng: Unknown on Thứ Tư, 20 tháng 4, 2011

A technical note:

Conventional wisdom holds that blog posts shouldn't be too long; at a certain length, attention wanders and the writer loses the reader.

I'm thrilled with the far-reaching conversation that the Collected Editions readers and I are having about favorite Superman stories, trade buying, and DC: Legacies, after the Superman: Secret Origins review, a long post. Maybe the conventional wisdom is wrong after all.

Lately there have been a couple of long(er) posts here (not so long, really) -- on Secret Origin, and also on Superman/Batman: Big Noise. For those who prefer, next week's posts are back to the regular-sized (but no less detailed) fare, plus a special mid-week surprise.

Tomorrow, however, one more long post: the Collected Editions review of Grant Morrison's Batman: Time and the Batman. This is a complicated book, the strange middle child between The Return of Bruce Wayne and Batman and Robin: Batman Must Die, befitting I think a slightly longer look.

I hope you'll chime in and share your thoughts on that one tomorrow. Thanks as always for reading.
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Người đăng: Unknown


Number 933


Ghost pirates of Skull Valley


Ghost pirates sound like Pirates Of the Caribbean, but this tall tale of a ship full of specters comes from Fiction House's Ranger Comics #54, published in 1950.

The moody, dramatic and cinematic adventures of Dr. Drew, the ghost hunter, were done in the style of the Eisner studio, drawn by Will Eisner assistant Jerry Grandenetti.

I've shown other Secret Files of Dr. Drew stories in Pappy's #571 and Pappy's #735.








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Review: The Invisibles Vol. 2: Apocalipstick trade paperback (Vertigo/DC Comics)

Người đăng: Unknown on Thứ Hai, 18 tháng 4, 2011

[Continuing a series of guest reviews on Grant Morrison's The Invisibles by Zach King, who blogs about movies as The Cinema King]

After surprising myself with a somewhat lukewarm reaction to the first volume of Grant Morrison's seven-book epic The Invisibles (due mostly, you'll recall, to the emphasis of style over substance), I dove into the second volume, Apocalipstick, with a bit of trepidation tempered by the confidence that Morrison has never really let me down. Fortunately, Apocalipstick is one of the most successful in the seven-volume series, nailing both characterization and the enormous scope of the work as a whole.

"And so we return and begin again." Apocalipstick begins immediately where the last volume, Say You Want a Revolution, left off. Our heroes, the counter-cultural anarchist heroes The Invisibles, have retaken the windmill time machine from the faceless demon Orlando. Their troubles are only just beginning, however; the windmill is surrounded by the drone-like Myrmidons, and Dane announces he's quitting the team because it's getting entirely too weird for him (a complaint I imagine some readers voiced in the original letter columns, sadly not reprinted here). The main narrative pauses for a few issues to introduce three one-and-done minor character arcs; then the main story of the volume, "Sheman," gives us the origin story of Lord Fanny, revealed to be a transvestite shaman raised as a woman in Brazil.

If the chief complaint about Say You Want a Revolution was that it was generally flat on characterization, Apocalipstick atones for this sin of omission in spades. Though Boy and to some extent King Mob are still somewhat mysterious characters, we're finally given insight into Lord Fanny, who becomes one of the more compelling characters in the hands of Morrison, who's so clearly steeped in his trademark mystical research. Ragged Robin acquires a personality (sprightly and energetic), good compensation for the fact that her origins go unexplored until volume five. Even the story's principal antagonist Sir Miles Delacourt gets fleshed out here, such that he's no longer a cartoon villain but rather becomes a fully developed enemy evenly matched against The Invisibles.

The most remarkable thing about Apocalipstick, though, is not "Sheman," though it is wonderfully illustrated by Jill Thompson, who apes many famous artistic styles while keeping Fanny consistent (she's one of the only artists, it seems, who understands that Fanny is a man wearing women's clothing; Brian Bolland would later make the mistake of drawing Fanny as an actual woman). The three one-and-done issues in the middle of the volume are among the best in the entire series; in the hands of any other writer, these three could have been mere ugly filler (as Batman: Streets of Gotham always became when Paul Dini wasn't on hand), but Morrison uses these issues to introduce new and compelling characters, only one of whom appears in subsequent issues.

Voodoo baron Jim Crow stands out as a significant figure down the pike, but Bobby Murray is perhaps the crowning achievement in the series. In "Best Man Fall," Morrison gives life to "red shirt" henchman Bobby Murray, such that Murray's slaughter at the hands of King Mob way back in issue #1 is recolored as a human tragedy rather than King Mob's "nice and smooth" triumph. Steve Parkhouse's illustrations here are perfect, capturing all the small emotions in Bobby Murray's sad and short life. (Though Bobby, obviously, never appears again in the series, the introduction of Audrey Murray, who reappears at a crucial moment in the penultimate issue of volume seven, demonstrates unequivocally Morrison's mastery of the long-form story.)

While Apocalipstick delivers characterization and a sense of the world of The Invisibles, it also begins to introduce some of the major mythological components of the series, albeit in a typically Morrisonian fashion -- by which I mean it makes almost no sense until several re-readings. As Dane/Jack begins to remember the missing time in his memory from his initiation with Tom O'Bedlam, Paul Johnson's artwork (or perhaps Morrison's script) never quite makes it clear precisely what's happened; we get a crystal clear empathy with Dane/Jack's growing confusion about the world he's entering, but the mysteries are almost too heady. It's early in the series to be bemoaning a lack of answers (or maybe it's just that six years of Lost trained me to think that way), but it seems that only Morrison diehards will appreciate the deliberately obtuse nature of the ideas behind The Invisibles.

Morrison wisely seems to recognize the off-putting nature of his philosophical advances and chooses to match dense imagery with simultaneous plot twists. By the end of Apocalipstick, Dane/Jack has embraced his role as Tom O'Bedlam's successor in the Invisibles cell led by King Mob, just as his new leader is captured by a gleefully gloating Sir Miles. Forestalling the answers to the mysteries of Barbelith with completely lucid cliffhangers is a genius move on Morrison's part, even if the frustration surfaces in hindsight. First-time readers, though, will quickly lose patience with the sudden introduction and abandonment of John-a-Dreams, a compelling characters whose most significant discovery (and whose very existence) is revealed and quickly neglected for many chapters.

By giving fullness to both the heroes and the villains of The Invisibles, Apocalipstick achieves the goal of giving the overall series a sense of purpose and identity. Now that we know who the players are, what they're fighting for, and how they go about their side of the fight, it's much easier to get a feel for what exactly The Invisibles is supposed to be. It's also easier to identify whether or not The Invisibles is entirely successful based on the objective standard of what an Invisibles comic should be like. Answer? Apocalipstick.

[Contains full covers, a character page, and a "Story So Far" page. Printed on non-glossy paper.]

That's volume two taken care of, loyal readers. Next, it's Entropy in the U.K., in which King Mob's personalities -- all of them -- are explored and the definitive Invisibles artist finally joins the creative team. Stay tuned.

Read Zach's review of The Invisibles Vol. 1: Say You Want a Revolution. And coming up later in the week ... the Collected Editions review of Grant Morrison's Time and the Batman. Don't miss it!
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