A Star(Man) Is Born: Enter Jack Knight, Part II

Last time, we were introduced to Jack Knight, youngest son of original Golden Age Starman Ted Knight, who has reluctantly taken up the name and role of Starman (if not the costume), following the murder of his older brother David by their father’s longtime enemy the Mist. With the help of his father’s Cosmic Rod, Jack avenges his brother, murdering the Mist’s son, who had performed the killing, and makes an enemy of Nash, the Mist’s daughter, who had earlier spared Jack’s life, only to have Jack kill her own beloved brother. Where to go from here? STARMAN creators James Robinson and Tony Harris had an idea or two…

With the first storyline completed and the status quo of the series firmly in place, James Robinson introduced two new recurring features to STARMAN, both of which would become trademarks of the book’s 80-plus-issue run. First off, in issue #5, was the first “Talking With David” issue, in which Jack meets up with his departed brother in a shadowy dreamland and has the kind of heart-to-heart conversation they were never able to do when David was alive.

In this first installment, Jack finds himself in a graveyard, and is surprised and startled by the appearance of his brother, all bright and shiny color in a black-and-white cemetery gloom. In the only nod to comic-book cliché, the two fight at first, then settle down and really get to know one another, in a way it seemed they never had in the past, including a startling admission from David:

By the issue’s end, David promises that his visits to Jack from beyond the grave will be an annual affair, news that Jack meets with anticipation.

A word here about the artwork of Tony Harris. STARMAN was his breakthrough work, and this issue in particular was, I believe, where he really began to come into his own. Although issues 0 through 4 are quite good, there’s a certain stiffness in some of its storytelling that can probably be ascribed to anything from unfamiliarity with his own all-new characters to difficulty with the rigors of a monthly schedule to stage fright. With this issue, however, Harris really seemed to claim ownership of the book, improving his panel-to-panel storytelling dramatically, while bringing an all-new dimension in his ability to portray emotions thorough his characters’ expressions, such as in this scene where Jack and David are blaming each other for the damage they’ve wreaked on the cemetery. We really see Harris outdo himself in the next storyline, but let’s not get ahead of ourselves.

The other innovation of Robinson’s made its debut in the next issue, STARMAN #6: namely, his recurring series of flashback issues, entitled “Times Past.” In the “Times Past” stories, we’d get glimpses of the original Starman, the Shade, and anyone who’d ever taken the name Starman, as well as various other protectors of the Opal over the course of its history. Not only did these issues help Robinson create a real sense of history and legacy, for both his neophyte hero and his newly created city, but from a more practical standpoint, these “Times Past” issues, which were always illustrated by guest-artists, would allow Tony Harris (and much later, his successor on the series) some much-needed breathing room, giving him a few extra weeks between the larger story arcs to catch up on the artwork. The “Times Past” stories would also allow Robinson to do some serious foreshadowing, introducing characters, themes and incidents that may not play out in the main storyline for years to come.

The first “Times Past” story, courtesy of Robinson and artist Teddy H. Kristiansen, involves the Shade, telling the tale of a job he took at the turn of the century, reclaiming an heiress from a sinister hypnotist and his carnival troupe, which resulted in the Shade’s acquisition of a piece of Opal real estate, cementing his bond to the Opal, a city he had already grown to love. Compared to later “Times Past” stories, this one seems particularly unconnected to the main narrative thread, but in typical Robinson style, even this tale eventually comes to have a bearing on the big picture.

Jack’s next adventure, “A (K)Night at the Circus,” in STARMAN #7-8, is significant for a couple of reasons. First off, the plot itself, in which a collectible-hunting Jack stumbles across a traveling carnival in Turk County (the creepy rural flatlands just outside of Opal City) and discovers a blue-skinned alien being held there against his will by the carnival’s demonic proprietor. The alien, of course, is none other than Mikaal Tomaas, the 1970s Starman we discussed a few weeks back.

From a characterization perspective, the tale is important in that it’s the first time we see Jack take up the role of the hero not from guilt or family obligations, but simply because he thinks it’s the right thing to do, freeing Mikaal and the other enslaved freakshow performers from their unwilling slavery. And as a consequence, Jack discovers the rewards of heroism as well…

Robinson was very clever in how he paced the storyline in STARMAN, especially early on. In between the longer multi-issue story arcs, Robinson would include one or two single-issue adventures of Jack, partly to give the reader a bit of time to recover and settle into Jack’s status quo, and partly to get across the sense of Jack living his life kind of the way you or I do — it’s not all big life-changing events, one right after the other; sometimes (probably most of the time) life is more of a comfortable monotony, which Robinson seemed to want to reinforce with his non-event issues.

For example, take a look at STARMAN #9, which is almost entirely a transitional issue, beginning with the denouement of his adventure at the carnival, and ending with Jack lounging on his couch, about to get the news that the Mist’s daughter Nash has escaped from prison. The rest of this issue is taken up with prologue for a story arc to come almost a year later, Jack’s adventures in collectible-hunting, and a surprising revelation from Ted to Jack about one of his never-revealed cases as Starman:

Luckily for us, we get to see this story in great detail in a future “Times Past” issue, only two months later. In “Five Friends,” by Robinson and artist Matt Smith (STARMAN #11, September 1995), we go back some 13 years, when once smalltime supervillain the Ragdoll has become a Charlie Manson-style cult leader, whose minions are terrorizing the Opal. With the crisis escalating, a worried Ted Knight calls in his friends: Alan “Green Lantern” Scott, Jay “Flash” Garrick, Charles “Doc Mid-Nite” McNider and Rex “Hourman” Tyler.

Doc Mid-Nite is assigned the task of recovering a pair of kidnapped twins held for ransom, while Hourman must by himself stop an army of goons who plant to ransack a retirement community. Meanwhile, Ted, Alan and Jay take it upon themselves to bring in the mastermind himself, the Ragdoll. Which they do, only to receive a most disturbing threat:

While they’re still reeling, Ragdoll tries to make his escape, and the already rattled heroes react suddenly and without restraint:

Robinson is at his best here, deftly combining nostalgia with his usual lyrical narration, making the middle-aged JSA here seem like legends stepping out of the past. And artist Matt Smith provides wonderfully moody, minimalist artwork, giving the whole project the feel of a fading but still vivid memory. This issue is an all-time favorite.

Another member is added to Jack Knight’s growing extended family in STARMAN #10, when he’s cajoled by Alan Scott’s daughter Jade into tracking down none other than Solomon Grundy, the savage swamp creature who had befriended her years earlier in the pages of INFINTY, INC., and whom was now rumored to be living in the sewers beneath the Opal. Jack agrees (mostly because Jade’s a hottie, a surprising realistic motivation for any guy to do anything he doesn’t feel like doing), and after a brief skirmish with Grundy, discovers he’s really not much more than an overgrown toddler:

At just about the one-year point of the series, Robinson and Harris had already established a mood, a style and a world for their new creation that was arguably more compelling and more real than books that had been around for decades.

And the cool thing is, they were just getting warmed up.

A Star(Man) Is Born: Enter Jack Knight

Longtime readers of my work may recall that I’ve often over the years referred to James Robinson and Tony Harris’ STARMAN series as my favorite comic book, bar none. There are plenty of reasons why, which I’ll be getting to over the next couple of weeks. But I’ve got to cop to the fact that there’s more than a little sentimentality to it as well, so please indulge me just a bit here as we all step in to the Wayback Machine, heading back almost 13 years or so.

It’s the summer of 1994, and I had just graduated from the University of California at Santa Barbara, with a degree in English that I had absolutely no idea what to do with. I decided to roll the dice, and moved to Los Angeles with no job, no prospects, and only whatever I could carry and what little money I’d saved that year working as a copy editor for the university newspaper. Which is how I found myself that July and August more often than not eating Top Ramen and sitting in a lawn chair in my living room, which was largely empty because I couldn’t afford furniture. Admittedly, it was a scary time — days were spent either job-hunting or heading to the library, since checking out books was almost the only entertainment I could afford.

Almost, that is, because I still managed to keep up on comics, heading to a tiny hole-in-the-wall comic-book store in the upstairs of a sports-card shop near UCLA (it’s long gone now). The big DC crossover event that year had been ZERO HOUR, which had in its pages pretty much slaughtered the original Justice Society, murdering several members and aging others to the point of uselessness. As a longtime JSA fan, this hadn’t gone over real well with me. Any way, one week, I’m scanning the racks looking at the new books (and remember, this was pre-Internet, believe it or not, so you could still be surprised by what would be on the racks any given Wednesday), and the cover of a new STARMAN book catches my eye. To be much more exact, this is what I see:

“Hm,” I think to myself. “Where’s the fin on his head? Doesn’t look like Starman.” But I pick it up regardless, mostly on the strength of the writer’s name: James Robinson, who had the year previous written an excellent JSA miniseries entitled THE GOLDEN AGE, and so I was thus inclined to believe that he at least knew of the original Starman and might do right by the name.

As it turned out, I fell in love with the book, and as Jack Knight grew into his new life as Starman, I at the same time grew into my new life here in L.A., eventually finding work as an editor and even having enough cash to buy a furnishing or two. So, yeah, admittedly, the book means a lot to me; it’s always gonna remind me of that time in my life when I took a real chance, and nowadays, when I see all that’s come out of taking that chance, not the least of which are this very Web site, a readership that seems to enjoy listening to me blather on about comics, and comic books in the shops with my name on ‘em — well, it just makes me love Jack Knight all the more.

Enough sentimental sop from me, let’s get to why I liked the book so much in the first place.

First and foremost is Robinson’s writing. I’ve been re-reading the series recently to prepare for the writing of these pieces, and have been very pleased to discover how well the work holds up. But a large part of what made the book so unique especially early on, was the overall voice of the book, an omniscient third-person narration with an almost lyrical poetic quality to it, one that was certainly like nothing else DC or Marvel was offering. It’s kind of a combination of a Tolkien-style historical chronicle and an almost fairy-tale once-upon-a time feeling, but without any sense of being childish. Look at the way Robinson sets the stage for the new series on the very first page of STARMAN #0 (October 1994):

There is a city.

A glorious and singular place. Old and yet pristine. Ornate and yet streamlined. A metropolis of now and then and never was.

Burnely Ellsworth founded it in 1864, using the riches he’d amassed gem mining in Australia. With that in mind, he named his creation after that which had given him wealth.

And so Opal City stands, glorious and singular.

The city had a champion. A gaudily dressed “Quixote”: pure and true…but cursed with perpetual melancholy, as “Quixotes” often are. He used a device, this champion — a weapon that could draw power and light from the heavens. And with this, he fought the bad and the wrong and kept his city free from fear.

In times past.

For Opal City’s champion, no longer young or strong or filled with the same sense of righteous purpose of late had put the costume and cosmic power aside — turning, instead, to the heavens, to study them all the more.

With the need for a new champion … one arose.

His father’s son. Pure and true.

And God help the bad and the wrong.

Such a stirring and eloquent beginning, fooling the reader into believing we’re about to meet the hero of the tale, Ted Knight’s son David, as seen in the previous STARMAN series. As it turns out, for as much as David wanted to succeed his father, his time as Starman is cruelly brief:

We’re then introduced to David’s younger brother Jack, a collectibles dealer in Opal City who has a contentious relationship with both his father and his brother, and, as we see in flashback, proves that no one can hurt you quite as much as family:

Unluckily for Jack, someone else is looking to hurt the Knight family even more, not stopping with the murder of David, but also blowing up Ted Knight’s observatory in an attempt on his life, and setting fire to Jack’s collectibles shop as well. The mysterious assassin leaves Jack for dead, but not before stealing the cosmic converter belt that Ted had made for the Star-Spangled Kid back in the day, which Ted had given to his son for safekeeping. Jack manages to escape with his life, only because Ted had also left him his original gravity rod for safekeeping as well.

We also learn at the close of the first issue who’s behind it all: the father of the assassin, none other than Ted’s old enemy the Mist:

Despite his best intentions, Jack finds himself slowly drawn into the superhero life, at first only to protect his family and its legacy, but as the Mist’s crime wave grows, Jack finds himself more and the man he’d never expected to be: his father’s son. Along the way, Jack meets up with some unexpected allies, such as the O’Dare family, four brothers and a sister all on the Opal City police force, all of whom take it upon themselves to honor their father’s promise and protect Jack’s father, who’s been hospitalized following the Mist’s murder attempt. While on the run from the Mist’s killers, Jack meets Charity, a fortune teller newly moved to Opal City, who gives Jack an impromptu reading. Also showing his face is the Shade, the longtime Golden Age Flash villain, who, we discover in these pages, is not only practically immortal, but has always been a longtime resident of Opal City (or “the Opal,” as it’s often affectionately called) and always refused to engage in any villainous activities in his hometown.

Jack also has a run-in with the Mist’s other a child, a daughter, Nash, who can’t quite bring herself to obey her father’s wishes and kill Jack. It’s a first meeting that would have long repercussions for both.

Jack’s initial forays into super-fights aren’t exactly raving successes, considering all he’s got going for him is some jiu jitsu training from high school, a gravity rod he has no experience in using, and a very strong desire not to die. In fact, after his first skirmish with the Mist’s goons, not only does he barely escape, but he shatters the gravity rod in the process.

Stopping by his apartment after the battle, Jack hurriedly puts together what would be the basis of what passes for his “Starman” costume: a heavy leather jacket with an astrological symbol on the back, a CrackerJack-prize Sheriff’s star, and a pair of WWII-era anti-flare goggles.

Upon returning to the hospital to see his father about replacing the rod, Ted remembers that there was an earlier prototype Cosmic Rod he had built in the 1950s, which lay hidden away in storage. Jack goes to find it, and falls in love:

No sooner is Jack armed again when his father is kidnapped, and an ultimatum is made: Jack must meet the Mist’s son Kyle in battle, in the skies over the Opal, or Jack’s father will die.

Issue #3 is almost entirely devoted to the airborne duel between Jack and Kyle, interspersed with moments of Jack flashing back to the past, to memories of he and his murdered brother, some good, some not so good, but all treasured. Some memories also surprise Jack, proving that the disdain for his father’s life he thought he’d always had might not necessarily be so:

In the end, Jack prevails, although it’s not a victory he relishes:

Even worse, it’s clear he has new problems on the horizon when Kyle’s sister Nash sees what he’s done.

Meanwhile, the Shade proves his true colors, gathering the O’Dares on a raid of the Mist’s lair to retrieve Ted Knight. Ted is recovered safely, and there’s little satisfaction in collaring the clearly addled Mist, who appears to be suffering from Alzheimer’s.

In the aftermath, Jack and Ted have a heart-to-heart, in which Jack agrees to take up the mantle of Starman (although not to wear a costume) if Ted will devote himself full-time to science, putting the technology behind his Cosmic Rod to use for the world.

Ted agrees, and says he knew all along that Jack would agree to play the hero. “After all,” he says, “if you’re not Starman…who else is there?” This leads us to two epilogues in response, each revealing a fallen Starman:

All that in only five issues. If you’re not hooked yet, don’t worry, there’s so much more to come.

Comics 101, January 30, 2013 – Sometimes the Clothes Make the Woman

There are some comic-book characters that, for better or worse, are all about the costume. Take, for example, Carol Danvers, a.k.a. Marvel Comics’ Ms. Marvel, or as she’s been alternately known in the past, Binary, Warbird, and these days, Captain Marvel. The character has always been a favorite of mine, and I’ll admit most of that affection comes from the costume design from Dave Cockrum, as seen here in this illustration by Frank Cho:

Which was why Marvel’s recent decision to revamp the character as “Captain Marvel,” complete with a new costume and haircut, came as such a shock:

Aesthetics aside, it looks far too much like Alan Moore’s “Miraclewoman” for me, but that’s neither here nor there. However, it is another in a long line of questionable wardrobe choices for Carol Danvers, dating all the way back to the first issue of her solo series back in 1977, in MS. MARVEL #1 (January 1977):

(Ms. Marvel’s Farrah Fawcett-Majors haircut really firmly places her as a product of the 1970s, and for all the series talk of “Women’s Lib,” it always struck me as funny that her uniform included a belly shirt.) Although the story by writer Gerry Conway and artist John Buscema, “This Woman, This Warrior!”, may have been Ms. Marvel’s first appearance, it marked a return for the character’s alter ego, Carol Danvers, who had first appeared as a supporting character nine years earlier in the CAPTAIN MARVEL feature in the pages of MARVEL SUPER-HEROES #13, serving as the security chief at a secret military base where Captain Marvel (that is, the alien hero Mar-Vell — try to keep up, there’s a lot of “Marvels” being thrown around this week).

As this story opens, we meet Ms. Marvel already having begun her superhero career, as she busts a Manhattan bank robbery:

As it turns out the robbers were only a decoy for the real mastermind behind the robbery, longtime Spidey-Villain the Scorpion:

The debut of Ms. Marvel in New York’s superhero community immediately gets some attention, particularly from NYC’s #1 superhero-hater J. Jonah Jameson, who just happens to be interviewing for an editor for a new women’s magazine he’s starting up:

Up for the job is the aforementioned Carol Danvers, who immediately looks to be much better at negotiating with JJJ than Peter Parker ever was.

Speaking of Jameson, we soon discover why Scorpion’s been robbing banks: to buy a top-of-the-line deathtrap facility so he can kill Jameson, the man who originally turned him into the Scorpion. Seems pricey, but admittedly, it is a seller’s market.

Meanwhile, Carol Danvers gets to know some of her new associates from the Bugle, like Mary Jane Watson, whom she invites over for coffee before nearly passing out from a migraine:

Jameson gets his own migraine, in the form of a tail-whumping from the Scorpion, who promptly kidnaps him.

Ms. Marvel arrives at the Bugle after word of Jameson’s kidnapping, where her mysterious sixth sense provides her with a psychic clue to JJJ’s whereabouts. How convenient.

The divine Ms. M heads over to Scorpion’s deathtrap hideaway, where she has a sudden revelation: she doesn’t know who she is:

In the midst of her brawl with Scorpy, her revelations continue, as she realizes that her uniform and powers are somehow related to the alien race known as the Kree.

But she still doesn’t remember everything:

The battle ends when Scorpion is thrown into the vat of acid intended for JJJ:

While Ms. Marvel decides on a name for herself while rescuing the none-too-grateful Jonah:

Back in her new office, Carol Danvers ruminates, still having no idea about her other life:

Not a bad first issue, eh? Though it admittedly raises more questions than it answers. Come on back next week where we get a real look at Ms. Marvel’s origin, and an overview of her first solo series, which was considerably more…uneven, shall we say…

Scott Tipton wouldn’t mind seeing Ms. Marvel on the big screen in a couple of years…

Comics 101, January 23, 2013 – Looking Back on a Decade

Back in January of 2003, your humble professor was working as Associate Editor and Newswriter for a little Web site with the unfortunate name “Movie Poop Shoot,” an offshoot of director Kevin Smith’s constantly shifting media empire. One day, while going over the content we had planned for that week, Poop-Shoot Editor-in-Chief Chris Ryall said to me: “Hey, we could use more comics content. Why don’t you do a ‘history-of-comics’ thing for a while?”

Sure, I said. I’ll try it out for a couple of weeks. Might be fun.

So I tried it. It looked a little something like this (click to enlarge):

Ten years and 520 columns later, here we are. I’m still here talking comics every Wednesday, rain or shine, busy or bored, good times and bad, and a lot of you out there are still with me. Along the way, this fool’s errand I’ve dedicated myself to has helped me get to quite a few things I never expected, including book deals, a career writing comics, and a nice little store in North Hollywood I’m quite fond of.

If you’ll indulge an old man (at least it feels that way sometimes) a bit of nostalgia, I thought I’d look back at a few of my favorite offerings of the last few years here at the 101. After all, not all of you have been around for the whole decade, I reckon.

I really felt like I might be on to something with this “Comics 101) thing with this column about Walt Kelly’s POGO:

http://www.comics101.com/comics101//?mode=project&action=view&project=Comics%20101&chapter=39

By 2004, I really started embracing the idea of long-form columns, and did something like nine weeks in a row on Batman. This one was my favorite:

http://www.comics101.com/comics101//?mode=project&action=view&project=Comics%20101&chapter=358

It gets harder and harder to do new Christmas columns every year, and I still think my first one was the best:

http://www.comics101.com/comics101//?mode=project&action=view&project=Comics%20101&chapter=57

This may be the piece of writing I’m proudest of in the last 10 years, my tribute to Marvel editor (and more important, my friend) Mark Gruenwald:

http://www.comics101.com/comics101//?mode=project&action=view&project=Comics%20101&chapter=283

I’ve probably gotten more reader response over the years to this column than any other, my dissection of the 1970s TV special LEGENDS OF THE SUPERHEROES:

http://www.comics101.com/archives/comics101/117.php

This one’s a sentimental favorite, which was posted the week my first SPIKE comic hit stands:

http://www.comics101.com/comics101//?mode=project&action=view&project=Comics%20101&chapter=7

To be honest, I can’t really go back and read this one, which I wrote just after the loss of my mother in 2007, but the outpouring of support I got from readers of the site meant the world to me:

http://www.comics101.com/comics101//?mode=project&action=view&project=Comics%20101&chapter=152

I have to include this column about Woody Woodpecker comics, just because I still laugh at the memory of Joe Casey’s sardonic email in response, hassling me for spending so much time on Woody Woodpecker:

http://www.comics101.com/comics101//?mode=project&action=view&project=Comics%20101&chapter=162

I don’t spend that much time talking about my own work here in the column, but I made an exception with this piece by me and Elena Casagrande about our work on ANGEL: A HOLE IN THE WORLD:

http://www.comics101.com/comics101//?mode=project&action=view&project=Comics%20101&chapter=300

I’ve had to write far too many “GONE TOO SOON’ columns about comics professionals who have passed on. This one, about my friend Franco Urru, still hurts:

http://www.comics101.com/comics101//?mode=project&action=view&project=Comics%20101&chapter=430

And this piece, looking back at all my work on ANGEL as the series went to other hands, served as a nice capstone to a big chunk of my career:

http://www.comics101.com/comics101//?mode=project&action=view&project=Comics%20101&chapter=339

As for the future, it’s been evident in recent years that keeping up with the weekly grind here has been tougher, as my freelance writing career has taken off. Still, with your permission, I think I’ll stick with it a while longer. After all, who knows where it might lead?

Scott Tipton is looking forward to 10 more.

Comics 101, January 16, 2013 – The Lost Gems Dept.: Neil Gaiman’s Books of Magic

Everyone loves Harry Potter, right? We’ve all read the books, seen the movies, bought the T-shirt, gone to the theme park, ordered the commemorative plate. It’s Harry’s world, and we’re all just living in it.

Except.

Except that back in 1990, Harry Potter didn’t exist yet, was nothing more than a possible notion in the mind of a London researcher for Amnesty International named Joanne Rowling. However, there was a bespectacled young English kid learning the ways of magic with a pet owl out there in the pop-culture landscape, and his name was Timothy Hunter, as introduced by writer Neil Gaiman in the DC Comics miniseries THE BOOKS OF MAGIC, recently re-released in a hardcover collection.

At the time, Gaiman was making waves with his SANDMAN series for DC, which was really starting to take off, and so DC gave him the keys to their entire magical kingdom with this series, in which young Tim Hunter, a 13-year-old kid with the potential to be one of the great magical powers of the cosmos, is given a grand circle tour of Magic in the DC Universe by a quartet of mystical players sardonically referred to by one of their number as “The Trenchcoat Brigade”: the Phantom Stranger, John Constantine, Doctor Occult and Mister E.

Each DC sorcerer takes Tim on a different leg of the journey, with the Phantom Stranger showing the past of magic, Constantine showing Tim around the present-day magic scene, Doctor Occult taking him to the otherworldly realms, and Mister E giving Tim an unsettling look at the future. Each chapter is painted by a different artist, with John Bolton, Scott Hampton, Charles Vess and Paul Johnson handling the respective art duties.

The series provides Gaiman with a great opportunities to handle all of DC’s magic-based character in one form or another, even the ones who had the time had already been killed off, such as in this chilling scene where the Stranger introduces Tim to the recently deceased Sargon the Sorcerer, who has some ugly advice for young master Hunter:

As Constantine shows Tim around the here and now, we learn that there’s already a price on his head, thanks to repeated warnings from Deadman, who possesses the bodies of those around Tim in order to give him the heads-up:

Tim’s first meeting with the Spectre takes an unexpected turn when the Spirit of Vengeance takes out another of Tim’s would-be assassins:

And afterward, the Spectre offers Tim his own advice:

Gaiman also has Tim spend some time with Zatanna, and it should come as no surprise that Gaiman writes an immensely appealing, grounded Zatanna. It’s a shame he’s not done more with the character over the years.

In the book’s third chapter, things are at their most SANDMANesque as Tim is ushered through faerieland by Dr. Occult, thanks to both the more fantasy –influenced feel of the story, and the exquisite art by Vess, such as in this scene when a captured Tim has a chat with his fellow prisoners of Baba Yaga, a rabbit and a hedgehog:

We’re even treated to a visit with Gaiman’s Morpheus, in one of his few appearances outside the SANDMAN series proper:

Things take a grim and ugly turn in the final chapter, as Mister E shows Tim his own possible dark future:

There’s also a curious omission from the series as it was originally published, in which Mister E confesses to Tim his own childhood trauma, in which his father gouged his eyes out with a spoon. That balloon is missing entirely here, which makes for an odd silence before Tim’s rejoinder:

Hopefully this was a simple accident, and not hamfisted revisionism on DC’s part.

We’re also treated to another rare cameo in BOOKS OF MAGIC, an appearance by Death herself at the end of the universe, where, as she puts it, she’s “locking the place behind her as she leaves”:

THE BOOKS OF MAGIC is an often overlooked gem in Neil Gaiman’s DC catalog, scary and sweet, funny and tragic. Highly recommended.

Scott Tipton needs to go re-read SANDMAN.

Comics 101, January 9, 2013 – Like a Child (of the Atom) Again

It took me something of an adjustment period, but I eventually grew to quite appreciate and be a fan of the Brian Michael Bendis era of AVENGERS, after the rough start that smacked of sensationalism and death-for-death’s sake. I came to see Bendis’s real affection for the characters and the Avengers history, and enjoyed his lengthy run on the series immensely.

With AVENGERS now in other hands, Bendis is starting again on another mammoth Marvel franchise, with the launch of ALL-NEW X-MEN, which has a most unusual twist, and which I’m pleased to be able to recommend wholeheartedly right from the jump. This is good stuff, kids.

A quick refresher: the series closely follows the events of AVENGERS VS. X-MEN, in which the legendary Phoenix Force returned to Earth, eventually possessing the minds and bodies of several X-Men, including Magneto, Magik, Emma Frost and founding member Cyclops, who eventually found himself the sole host of the Phoenix. Cyclops’ mentor and X-Men paterfamilias Charles Xavier comes out of retirement in an attempt to stop his former student, but is tragically murdered. Eventually, the Phoenix force is driven from his body, leaving a guilt-ridden and yet still somewhat unrepentant Cyclops behind to account for his sins.

Still reeling from the loss of Professor X, when the X-Men discover that Cyclops has escaped from prison and is on the run with Magneto, Magik and Emma Frost, it’s too much to bear for Cyclops’s fellow founding X-Man the Beast (who appears to be in poor health to boot), who embarks on a radical, seemingly insane course of action. Swiping Dr. Doom’s and Reed Richards’ time travel technology, the Beast goes back to the past, to his own teenage years at Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters, where he convinces his younger self and the other four original X-Men (including the now-dead-again-in-the-present Jean Grey) to return with him to the future, in the hopes of shocking today’s Cyclops back to his senses.

It’s a bold idea, and one that works on a couple different levels. The reader gets a fresh start for the X-Men, with young, teenage versions of these characters many readers have grown up with, but without it feeling like a do-over, as if the series was starting from scratch, as was the case with so much of DC’s New 52. It also struck this reader how much I missed this version of the X-Men, hopeful young kids with the whole lives in front of them, which makes the series’ tragic tone a they begin to learn more about their eventual fates, and what has become of Xavier’s dream, all the more poignant.

Another clever decision came at the end of this first story arc, with Kitty Pryde’s decision to act as the younger kids’ mentor in adapting to the new world around them. It’s an elegant reversal of the Kitty Pryde/X-Men relationship, with her shepherding and looking after the same people who once did the same for her, once upon a time.

The art by Stuart Immonen is simply gorgeous, conveying a heartfelt innocence for the younger X-Men, especially Jean Grey, in contrast to the harsher, uglier, more confusing world they find themselves in.

And as for Bendis’ writing, it’s fresh and exciting, with the writer eschewing many of his familiar conventions and dialogue quirks. This is Bendis inspired and at the top of his game, and it shows.

So far, the high point of the Marvel Now initiative. Highly recommended.

Scott Tipton hadn’t realized how much he missed Jean Grey. If you’ve got questions about the X-Men or comics in general, send them here.

Getting Up to Warp Speed: Gold Key’s Star Trek Comics, Part II

When last we convened, we were discussing the first STAR TREK comic book to see release, the fondly remembered if occasionally less than authentic series published by Gold Key. Last time, we took a look at the wildly inaccurate but still goofily entertaining first issue. Let’s pick up where they left off and see where it goes from there, shall we?

One thing you can say about Gold Key as a publisher: they certainly weren’t slaves to the calendar. A full nine months transpired between the first and second issues of their STAR TREK series, time which was apparently sent sending Super-8 films of TREK episodes to Italy, because by issue #2, things did look a lot more like Star Trek. The uniforms were much more accurate, and the likenesses, while not dead-on, were at least recognizable. As for the stories, well, they immediately took advantage of some of the things comics can offer that the TV show never could, such as more outlandish aliens. Take for example Targu, one of the interplanetary criminals marooned on a prison planet in “The Devil’s Isle of Space” in issue #2.

This issue also featured a nice bit of Vulcan logic by Spock, proving that someone who had seen the show was actually writing it now, as Spock reasons his way through a rationale for disobeying one of Kirk’s orders:

It’s also pretty hard-edged (although not quite as bad as last issue’s leafy-green genocide), as the crew takes the Prime Directive of non-interference to the letter, abandoning Targu and his fellow prisoners to their doom when their asteroid explodes, carrying out their people’s system of justice.

Of course, there was still the occasional foul-up, such as this scene from issue #3, which not only shows the Enterprise flying in a planet’s atmosphere, but also shows flames shooting out of the ship’s nacelles:

Sometimes themes or concepts from the series were repeated such as in issue #4 (June 1969), “The Peril of Planet Quick Change,” in which alien beings take over Spock’s body so as to use his hands to help save their world. The task accomplished, the beings depart, or so it is thought.

One of the aliens elects to stay in Spock’s body, wanting to see the galaxy through Spock’s eyes, and prevents him from telling Kirk or anyone else about his dilemma. In a clever bit that anticipates several uses of the same device on STAR TREK: THE NEXT GENERATION, Spock uses the transporter to force the alien to leave his body.

There’s even a nice bit of banter at the end between Spock and McCoy.

Every now and then, the book would just take a left turn into weird, such as in issue #7 (March 1970), “The Voodoo Planet,” in which the crew of the Enterprise discover what appears to be an exact replica of Earth, though completely empty. And not so exact, as it turns out. When Kirk and Spock investigate (once more wearing their Federation-issue backpacks, I don’t know what the deal was with these Italian artists, but they always wanted to put backpacks on Kirk and Spock. Maybe it’s a European thing. Go figure), they discover not only are the cities much smaller than the originals, they’re also constructed of papier-mache, a fact they learn when the Eiffel Tower comes crashing down around them:

Even stranger, when they return to the ship, they discover that back on Earth, the real Eiffel Tower has also crumpled to the ground. When a laser beam strikes the papier-mache Colosseum in Rome, and the real Colosseum is destroyed as well, they put two and two together, and track down the source of the laser beam: Count Dressler, the last of Earth’s tyrant madmen, who fled the planet when his plans to create atomic weapons on Earth was thwarted by the world’s governments. Fleeing Earth justice, he discovered the Voodoo Planet, where he learned their voodoo rites and began his plan to force Earth to grant him amnesty by destroying it from afar. And to prove his point, he takes down the Sphinx and the Leaning Tower of Pisa for good measure.

After Kirk and Spock escape from Dressler’s prison cell, Spock does a little research and discovers a Vulcan occult practice called “paincasters” that is very similar to Dressler’s voodoo. Spock is able to simulate Dressler’s powers and grant them to himself and Kirk; which is good, since Dressler is making pincushions of his Kirk and Spock dolls back at his lair. Kirk and Spock head back and try to give him a taste of his own medicine, but forget that since they’re immune, so he would be too.

Dressler runs for it, but they grab him up and take him in for trial (one assumes — although from the sound of it, one is left with the impression that Kirk is going to pull another “Khan Noonien Singh” and just drop him off on some unpopulated planet. Hope he didn’t make a habit of that.)

Is all this awfully silly? Sure, but to be honest, no more so than some of the original Trek episodes. Compared to the gangster planet or the invasion of the Enterprise by hippies, this one seems almost a little sedate. Besides, the art is good and has vastly improved from the debut, and the characterization is pretty faithful. Like I said, I really think these comics get a bit of a bad rap.

As of February 1971, regular artist Alberto Giolitti was joined by a new collaborator, writer Len Wein whose work here came well before the bulk of his more famous work for Marvel and DC, but already shows his good ear for dialogue and inventive plotting. Also, Wein was a Trek fan, and it showed, because even more elements from the series began to show up, such as Lt. Uhura, and even a Klingon or two. One of my favorites in Wein’s run (and I’m assuming it’s Wein, since the stories are uncredited, but it definitely feels like it to me) comes in STAR TREK #9 (February 1971), “The Legacy of Lazarus” which definitely has the slightly cheesy, fun feel of a Classic episode while taking advantage of the comic-book medium in scope and detail. The Enterprise crew explores planet Gamma Alpha V, and discovers a highly advanced city populated by scores of historical figures from Earth’s past, everyone from George Washington to Helen of Troy to Nero to Abe Lincoln (as well as, amusingly, Anton York, the 45th President of the United States, keeping up with Trek’s long pattern of introducing future history. I guess we should keep our eyes peeled for Mr. York’s emergence on the political scene in 2016 or so…).

There’s a good visual joke here when McCoy speculates that perhaps they’re in heaven, only for Kirk to point out some compelling evidence to the contrary:

Giolitti has a field day here with the historical portraits, getting his chance to draw everyone from Churchill to Cleopatra to Hitler alongside Kirk and Spock. Speaking of Spock, he’s soon thunked on the head and kidnapped by the man behind it all, ostracized Earth historian Alexander Lazarus, who skipped the planet with his army of androids after his big scientific project went kablooey, and then set up shop on Gamma Alpha V, where he invented a computer capable of receiving and recording the brainwaves of any person in history.

(Seems to me I’d go back with that bad boy and tell the scientific community to suck it. But that’s just me. ) Lazarus soon accidentally discovered a way to bond his androids with the historical consciousnesses he was recording, and eventually created his planet of living history.

So what’s the problem? Well, Lazarus has grown bored with human history, and decides to delve into a new subject: Vulcan history, a topic that requires that often-stolen piece of real estate known as Spock’s brain. In order to acclimate his machine to Vulcan brain patterns, Lazarus has to absorb a Vulcan brain as a template, and since Spock’s the only Vulcan in town, he’s elected. Meanwhile, Lazarus commands his historical mechanical to kill Kirk and the rest of the landing party, to prevent them from saving Spock.

Lazarus and Spock scuffle, and in the melee (which is pretty action-packed for a TREK comic, another reason I suspect Wein may be the writer), Lazarus is accidentally locked in his own brain-drain machine, reducing him to a mental vegetable.

The phaser blasts from Spock and Lazarus’ fight damaged Lazarus’ computer system , triggering a chain reaction that would eventually cause the planet to explode. Spock signals Scotty to beam the others up, and is he himself barely transported back to the ship before the planet blows up.

We’ll take a look at some more Gold Key Star Trek favorites next week, including — wait for it — some space pirate action:

Come on back, won’t you?

Comics 101, December 26, 2012 – A Holiday Coda

As Christmas of 2012 draws to a close, I thought I’d point out a heartwarming holiday tale that really highlights the kind of spirit and generosity you find in the geek community (Thanks to Ralph Garman for pointing this out).

There’s a severely disabled boy with Down’s Syndrome in Kentucky who’s a huge Iron Man fan, with Iron Man being one of the few things he ever responds to. The boy in question, Cameron, asked to meet Iron Man for Christmas this year, and his family reached out to the cosplay community to help make Cameron’s wish come true.

Sure enough, a cosplayer shot a video for Cameron in full Iron Man armor:

Cameron’s family shot a video of Cameron’s reaction to his message from Iron Man, and damned if it didn’t make my shriveled black heart grow three sizes:

Back to the usual fun and nonsense next week. In the meantime, try and spread a little cheer wherever you can. We could all be a little more like Iron Man.

Comics 101, December 4, 2012 – Remembering Franco

It was my first trip to New York, for the New York Comic-Con. The plan had been for me to hang out mostly with my friend and editor Chris Ryall, but as we should have assumed, the many, many commitments and appointments that come with his position almost immediately took up most of his time. And so, I figured, I was on my own, in a strange city for the better part of a week. At least that’s what I thought was going to happen.

Instead, I found myself adopted into a close-knit family of friends from a continent away, thanks largely to the kindness and generosity of one man, my friend Franco Urru, who passed away last week after a lengthy illness.

I’m proud of many things I’ve accomplished since I found myself in this business, but nothing makes me prouder than being able to say those words. Franco Urru was my friend.

Having never met or even spoken before, Franco took me under his wing that weekend in New York. After all, I had worked with his friends David Messina and Elena Casagrande, and I was friends with Chris and his SPIKE collaborator Brian Lynch, and that was good enough for Franco. He didn’t have to do that for me, some guy he barely knew. But before I knew what happened, I was one of the group, off to Franco’s favorite restaurants, listening to his stories of Rome as he marched us through the streets of Manhattan, ushering us into cabs or seemingly producing limousines out of thin air so we could get to “the best sushi restaurant uptown.” And he was always right.

But I came away from that New York show with something more than just memories of some good meals (okay, great meals). I came away with true friends and partners, people I would collaborate with for years to come (and expect to, and hope to, for years and decades more), all because Franco decided he was my friend.

Chris Ryall, me, Franco Urru, David Messina, Federica Manfredi and Elena Casagrande at the 2009 New York Comic-Con.

The next year, Chris and I made plans to attend the Lucca Comics and Games Festival in Lucca, Italy, as well as a convention in Dusseldorf, Germany, the following week. Once again, Chris’ responsibilities reared their ugly head and he was forced to cancel, but I went ahead and went solo, although in truth I was never alone for a moment. Franco had arranged for my accommodations in Rome for the few days between the Lucca and Dusseldorf conventions, and took special care to make certain I was always accompanied around the city he loved so much, seeing as much as I could in my brief time there. I remember meeting up with him at the comic-book shop Forbidden Planet in Rome, and seeing the happy look on the proprietor’s face when Franco strolled into the shop. He was greeted like that everywhere we went.

Franco Urru at Rome’s FORBIDDEN PLANET.

I wanted so badly to return the kindness, to be able to show Franco around Los Angeles or San Diego, to give him the kind of tour he gave me. To think that that will never happen now — it’s inconceivable.

Chris Ryall has done a better job than I could possibly do here talking about Franco’s amazing talent as an artist and his beautiful work on so many of IDW’s SPIKE and ANGEL projects, and it’s another of my great regrets that I never got to work with him. We had plans to work together, and talked often about reviving one of his superhero concepts he had dreamed up earlier in his career. But other assignments and commitments kept getting in the way, and before long the illness that would eventually claim him began to take its toll on him, and as a result I spoke to Franco less frequently, though I understood what he was going through, and hoped there would be a day when we could return to our easy talks and plans for the future.

But that day won’t come, and now, like so many others whose lives were made better simply by knowing him, I try to take solace in his remarkable if far too brief body of work, and the memories of his easy smile, his charm, his grace, his generosity. I can only hope to be as good a man as he was.

Franco Urru was my friend.

Comics 101, November 28, 2012 – Walking the Racks

A rare few days of downtime over the holiday weekend, allowing me to catch up on literally months’ worth of comics. Let’s talk about a few things that impressed me:

Matt Fraction and Mark Bagley’s FANTASTIC FOUR is off to a good start, with the familiar but in-character subplot of Reed Richards keeping secrets and working from ulterior motives as he ushers his family off on their next great reality-spanning adventure. Jonathan Hickman’s run completely redefined the series like no one sine John Byrne, so this does feel a little old-fashioned in comparison to Hickman’s slick futurism, but it’s solid, satisfying comics storytelling that has me interested in where things are going.

Very much enjoyed Elena Casagrande’s first issue of HACK/SLASH, written by Timothy Seeley. What a great comic. I’d never read a single issue of the book before, but was drawn right in by the characterization, which told me everything I needed to know about the characters to be pulled in. And the art was great, some of Casagrande’s best: expressive and well told. HACK/SLASH #20. Horror fans with a softer side, trust me: go find it.

Longtime readers around these parts know how much I love Hawkeye. Always have. One of my favorite Avengers, if not the favorite. And yet his solo efforts have often been lackluster at best, With the exception of his very first miniseries by Mark Gruenwald way back in the day. Which is why it pleases me to no end to say this:

Matt Fraction and David Aja’s HAWKEYE is amazing.

With a very simple mission statement up front (“This is what Hawkeye does when he’s not being an Avenger”), Fraction and Aja get everything about the character right: his skills, his impetuousness, his generosity, his short temper. And bringing Kate Bishop form YOUNG AVENGERS as his new sidekick was genius, giving Clint someone to bounce off of that allows him to serve in a mentor capacity, while still doing the kind of boneheaded maneuvers that make Hawkeye Hawkeye. My favorite book on the stands right now. I don’t even mind the bad costume (maybe because he’s so seldom worn it so far).

Mark Waid and Leinil Yu’s INDESTRUCTIBLE HULK is off to a great start. An excellent jumping-on point for anyone confused by the rainbow of Hulks we’ve seen in Marvel comics for the last few years, with a smart new emphasis on Bruce Banner I really like. This is the perfect book for anyone who loved Hulk and Bruce Banner in the AVENGERS movie and wants to be reading HULK comics.

Matt Fraction and Salvador Larroca’s INVINCIBLE IRON MAN ended very, very strong, with their epic Mandarin story coming together very well for a big finish. My sole complaint was that the series closes out on Tony Stark heading off on a very dramatic, very exciting new adventure, and yet when Kieron Gillan’s new Marvel Now IRON MAN series began, it’s been brushed off entirely, with Tony Stark already back and acting as if it was no big deal, and no mention anywhere to be found of whre and when we’ll get to see that story (not to mention depriving it of all drama, since we know Stark will be home safe and back to his old self, relatively unchanged for the experience). Curious.

Kathryn Immonen and Valerio Schiti’s JOURNEY INTO MYSTERY is a beautiful comic, even if the story, centered on Thor’s longtime love Sif, hasn’t quite got me hooked yet. But Schiti’s work alone makes this a must-buy for me.

And finally, Bronze Age fans need to make sure they pick up BACK ISSUE #61, which focuses on the giant-size Treasury Edition comics of the 1970s, and pays them proper tribute by expanding to Treasury size itself for the issue, under a gorgeous wraparound cover of the 1970s Legion of Superheroes painted by Alex Ross. The cover alone is worth the price, kids. Grab it.

Scott Tipton digs the adventures of Hawkeye and Hawkeye. If you’ve got questions about Hawkeye or comics in general, send them here.