Avengers Academy, v. 4: Second Semester

Collects: Avengers Academy #21-8 (2012)

Released: November 2012 (Marvel)

Format: 176 pages / color / $19.99 / ISBN: 9780785152033

What is this?: The Avengers Academy takes on new students, and the new student body has to deal with the X-Men, a Dire Wraith, the Runaways, and former young Initiative members.

The culprits: Writer Christos Gage and artists Sean Chen, Tom Raney, Tom Grummett, and Karl Moline

The first three volumes of Avengers Academy focused on a tight group of six students whom the Avengers suspected might become supervillains because Norman Osborn tortured them. Occasionally an issue’s focus drifted toward the students’ teachers, most notably longtime Avenger Hank Pym, and that was OK too; readers cared about the teachers because of their relationships to these fresh, young characters.

In Avengers Academy, v. 4: Second Semester, the school founded by Hank Pym opened its doors to new students. In theory, introducing new characters to the cast is a good idea, especially after one of the original six students left during Fear Itself: Avengers Academy. However, writer Christos Gage has included every young Marvel character created in the last fifteen years who wasn’t claimed by another book.

Well, it seems that way. The new students include Juston Seyfert and his Sentinel, the new Thundra, Ricochet, Whiz Kid, Spider-Girl, Machine Teen, the old Penance, the new Power Man, Butterball, Rocket Racer, even Batwing from Untold Tales of Spider-Man. I’m not sure what character could show “bottom of the barrel” more comprehensively than Batwing, who appeared in four issues of Kurt Busiek’s Untold Tales series, which was set in early Silver Age continuity, and an issue of Avengers: Initiative. We never learn why these characters are at the Academy or anything about them; they exist to fill out the background art.

However, despite the apparent cast of thousands, Gage focuses on three new characters: Lightspeed (Julie Power of Power Pack), X-23 (the female clone of Wolverine), and the newest White Tiger, Ava Ayala (not the old White Tiger, Hector Ayala, or the not old, not new White Tiger, Angela del Toro). Gage has a solid role for Lightspeed (teacher’s assistant), and X-23 is at the Academy to further her socialization. White Tiger, on the other hand, seems to have arrived to hassle Reptil, an original Academy student, about not being active in the Hispanic community.

Ideally, new characters should find a place to nestle in the cast, establishing their own niche or insinuating themselves inside pre-existing relationships to shake things up. Lightspeed is a great addition to the cast, a former team player, and Gage uses her sexual identity to allow her to relate to one of the established students. X-23 doesn’t get much time to show who she is, but Gage allows her and Mettle to discuss what it’s like to be a killer, and she’s tossed unwillingly into a love triangle. White Tiger does get a lot of time on the page, but Gage is less successful with her; she has a tragic origin and a Hispanic identity, but she’s not much more than that — we don’t even learn how she got her mystic amulet from her niece, Angela del Toro.

The team-vs.-team fights don’t help matters. Marvel Comics have had a template embedded into their DNA since Stan Lee crapped out the first superheroes after the Fantastic Four: heroes meet, fight, and then team up vs. the villain. Unfortunately, there are no villains to fight. The students in Second Semester fight the Avengers, X-Men, and Runaways, and somehow they avoid fighting former Initiative recruits when they show up. But there are no villains for them to team up and fight. The brief battles with other heroes wind down with a discussion by calmer heads, but discussions about the reasonableness of the other side’s point of view is not why I read comics. The lack of villains makes the heroes’ squabbles seem inconsequential.

Second Semester has only one fight with a villain. The entire student body battles a Dire Wraith hybrid; with the Wraith’s mind control, it’s a good fight, but one issue with a villain (two, if you count an issue of barely restrained scheming) out of eight is not enough. Gage tries to get the reader interested in the schemes of the future versions of the Academy’s original six students, but I’m not buying it. The future students are trying to bring about their nefarious (or not nefarious) future for mysterious reasons, but I have no criteria to judge that future on. Admittedly, one of the future versions tries to get Avengers Academy students killed, but that’s because the Wraith killed a lot of students in his timeline.

Gage is more successful with character development and humor. The guest stars get most of the good lines, but fortunately, he hasn’t lost his touch with his old characters. Hazmat and Mettle’s relationship progresses along expected lines, but they are sweet together, and the characters’ reasonableness means stupid misunderstandings are stumbling blocks rather than relationship breakers. Striker makes a big revelation, and even though I can see what Gage is aiming at, I’m not convinced previous characterization backs it up. Finesse and Reptil’s relationship is explored in the future but not much in the present, and Finesse finally meets Magneto, the man whose methods she wanted Quicksilver to teach her.

Second Semester has a ridiculous four pencilers for eight issues: Sean Chen (#21-2), Tom Raney (#23), Tom Grummett (#24-6), and Karl Moline (#27-8). I enjoy Chen’s clear, clean art, but Grummett’s is excellent as well; he has to do the bulk of the close-ups on the background characters, and he manages to differentiate them. Moline’s art has a loose, exaggerated style that looks nothing like the others’, and its incongruity makes it look worse than it actually is.

Although I still like the characters, Second Semester has to be considered a step down in quality. The book has too many characters without enough to do, and the plot puts too little external pressure on the characters to make them react in interesting ways. I hope the title will rebound, but since the extra students aren’t going anywhere, I have my doubts.

Rating: (2 of 5)

Prophet, v. 1: Remission

Collects: Prophet #21-6 (2012)

Released: August 2012 (Image)

Format: 136 pages / color / $9.99 / ISBN: 9781607066118

What is this?: In the far future, a warrior reawakes on a mission to reignite the old Earth Empire.

The culprits: Written by Brandon Graham and drawn by Simon Roy, Farel Dalrymple, Graham, and Giannis Milonogiannis

I picked up both Hawkeye and Prophet, v. 1: Remission on the recommendation of House to Astonish. I was prepared for Hawkeye, but Prophet … I’m not sure what to make of Prophet.

Prophet gives the reader a feeling of being dropped into a world that has already been partially developed. Part of that is because Remission reprints #21-6; obviously, twenty issues came before Remission. What relationship they have to Remission is unknown, though, and when those original issues were published is unstated. (Mostly 1993-6, with one issue in 2000.) I presumed those 20th-century issues related to the stories in Remission, but a glance around Wikipedia shows the link is tenuous.

Remission is set in the far future. Earth is vastly different, the landscapes altered and overrun by alien animals and sentients. John Prophet is belched forth onto this Earth by an armored digging machine that has been buried for an untold number of years. The newly awakened Prophet is sent on a mission — to go to a satellite and send out a beacon to the remnants of the old Earth Empire — that has been prepared so long ago a city has been born and thrived at one of the rendezvous points along his route.

Prophet’s quest is excellent sci-fi. The aliens are varied in custom and appearance, and Prophet drifts through their settlements. The technology is a combination of advanced and dilapidated, with animals frequently used for power. The fractured Earth society is stagnant, not creating or innovating. Humans are not seen anywhere — unless, as one alien intimates, the ape-like creatures that are farmed for meat are human.

Writer Brandon Graham doesn’t give Prophet much character — for good reason, as it turns out, since Graham moves on to other stories after #3’s big twist ending. Prophet is an enigma, a grunting action hero one can easily see being portrayed on screen by a mop-topped, early ‘80s Arnold Schwarzenegger. There is no explanation of his past, no examination of his motives: he is born into this strange world, and his only reason for birth is his mission. He is as reflective as a brick wall, and he does not question the elaborate preparations that bespeak a long-term plan; he only acknowledges their usefulness.

Artist Simon Roy is perfect for this arc. Roy, who is also co-credited for the story, draws a world that has only tinges of the familiar. His aliens are weird, the landscapes forbiddingly strange. His Prophet is brutish and stoic. Roy’s style also has a tinge of the doodles in a high schooler’s notebook — appropriate for such an imaginative and epic work.

For the rest of Remission, Graham tells one-issue stories from elsewhere in the universe. The stories presumably arise from the events at the end of #23, but only #25 explicitly says so. Each individual story is good, but their episodic nature saps the momentum of that great first arc. The lack of continuation and continuity throws the readers’ assumptions about the series’ nature into question. What is this series about? Who specifically is it about? Will any of these stories mesh, or are they vignettes to give the flavor of Prophet’s universe? I believe they are related, and people or places in #24-6 will be important. But that’s a belief, with no real evidence to support it.

Still, they are enjoyable stories, if lacking in back story. Issue #24 features a shorter quest, in many ways echoing Prophet’s in #21-3. The best of the latter three stories is #25, which follows a robot wakened by Prophet's signal; Jaxson is a automaton veteran of the Earth Empire’s wars who now is stoically getting ready for another. The final issue is less effective, without much struggle and without any pathos. But it does introduce the Old Man, who was mentioned in #25. The art for the three issues — by Farel Dalrymple, Graham, and Giannis Milonogiannis, respectively⁹⁰ — is very good, but they lack some spark that Roy’s art possesses. Emma Rios contributes a five-page story that is opaque, both in art and story, to the point of nonsensicalness.

I enjoyed Remission, but I wonder, what is it about? Is there a larger story here? I feel there has to be, given the hints laid down during #21-3, but I cannot guess its shape or color. I am tempted to pick up Prophet, v. 2: Brothers, but as good as Remission is, I don’t know if I’m going to enjoy it as a long-form story.

Rating: (4 of 5)

Scarlet Spider, v. 1: Life after Death

Collects: Scarlet Spider v. 2 #1-6 and story from Point One #1 (2012)

Released: February 2013 (Marvel)

Format: 152 pages / color / $16.99 / ISBN: 9780785163107

What is this?: An amoral clone of Spider-Man gets a new lease on life in Houston.

The culprits: Writer Chris Yost and artists Ryan Stegman and Neil Edwards

Going into Scarlet Spider, v. 1: Life after Death, I thought all the circumstances were against writer Chris Yost and artist Ryan Stegman.

Life after Death’s setup is not conducive to a long run. Kaine, Spider-Man’s original clone, is its star, so Scarlet Spider has the ‘90s / Clone Saga stench wafting from it. Kaine spends the entire book insisting he’s not a superhero and trying to avoid doing good. The book is set in Houston, far away from the center of the Marvel Universe. Yost is forced to create a supporting cast from scratch. Half the villains in the book are either Ana Kravenoff or the Assassins Guild (talk about an awful smell from the ‘90s), both of whom have long since worn out their welcome.

Well, at least the book isn’t out of continuity. That would have been the death knell.

But Yost manages to make something from this not-blank-enough slate. Houston, rather than just being New York with fewer skyscrapers, has its own feel. The supporting cast is mostly sharp, and the Assassin’s Guild turns out to be an excellent adversary for Kaine. Most importantly, though, Kaine turns out to be an interesting protagonist.

Kaine, whose genesis was in the ‘90s, is still a ‘90s character, with some of the rough (and “kewl”) edges sanded off. Kaine is interested in getting away from the violent life of the superpowered, insisting he has no interest in fighting or committing crime. As if to emphasize his lack of interest in superheroing, he’s extremely cavalier with his secret identity; at least four supporting cast members learn it, and several villains do or could figure it out. His mindset is violent and his morality gray, leading to pragmatic but immoral contemplations of killing villains to simplify his life. Kaine doesn’t kill, but he has no compunction about breaking bones, and he regrets his past as an assassin. Unsure if he wants to give in to these impulses or be a better man, Kaine vacillates. His hesitation over whether he wants to be a hero drives the book and provides more tension than a dustup with a supervillain ever could.

That being said, there’s a limit to how much suspense Kaine’s moral choices hold. Kaine’s redemption seems inevitable; he’s the star, and few characters (other than Punisher and Deadpool) can headline a book while being a killer. Certainly it would be difficult to do that with a clone of Spider-Man. Also, it’s disappointing that Kaine’s reform seems to involve a turn to Catholicism in #6; even though the imagery, ritual, and tradition of Catholicism make it attractive for writers and artists, the continual equation of Catholicism and Christianity is a cliché, simplistic, and not representative of Christian diversity in America or (especially) Texas.⁸⁷

Since Scarlet Spider is set in the Marvel Universe, Kaine does more than consider moral questions. The book has plenty of action sequences, with a corresponding amount of property of damage. (It’s surprising Houstonians don’t resent the destruction more.⁸⁸) Kaine’s battle with the Assassin’s Guild in #4 is a standout, and it’s really the only point in the book I warmed to Stegman’s work. His designs for the four assassins, especially the little girl, are very good, and the action is clear and exciting. It helps that Yost’s solution for how the battle ends is more imaginative than “punch them until they stay down.”

Stegman’s art isn’t always clear, though. Kaine’s battle in #1 with the Salamander — whom Yost doesn’t name until his appearance in an epilogue in #6 — is muddled by panels dominated with fire, and his depiction of how Kaine captured Salamander is a little opaque. It’s also unclear whether the spiders between panels at the beginning of #1 have any significance, given Kaine’s later-revealed power to communicate with spiders, or are merely decorative. I have no idea where the fence Kaine flees toward in issue #2 is; I believe it’s supposed to represent Kaine’s desire to flee to Mexico, but Houston is more than 300 miles from a land border with Mexico, too far to hitchhike round trip during one night. I’m unsure how the assassin in #3 recognizes Kaine, as Kaine lacks the distinctive scarring, shaggy hair, and beard he had when he previously met the assassin. (To be fair, this is probably Yost’s fault; Stegman portrayed the character accurately.) I also didn’t realize the purple-haired woman on stage in #6 was supposed to be Annabelle, a prominent supporting character. Stegman’s depiction of the Mark of Kaine, Kaine’s signature disfigurement of his victims during his assassin days, makes it look like Kaine turned his victims into Atlanteans.

These are small complaints, but these glitches do interfere with the book’s flow. Otherwise, Stegman is a decent artist, even if I’m not wild about his version of Kaine. (His face doesn’t remind me of Peter Parker’s.) I prefer the work of Neil Edwards, who drew #5; his style is more realistic, and his action scenes are clearer. (Although not perfect; in a scene in which Kaine confronts a gunman, Kaine’s relative position seems to shift, and it’s difficult to understand why Kaine couldn’t have disarmed him.)

That isn’t the only part of #5 that’s flawed. In #5, a racist group plants a nuclear bomb in Houston, and the plot’s danger level is out of proportion with the rest of the series. The previous issue has Kaine fighting the Assassins Guild, and the following issue shows Kaine battling Ana Kravinoff; #5 has a panel with the president being told a major American city will be destroyed. One of those is not tonally like the others. Yost does show how Kaine would react to the threat — selfishly, but also pragmatically — but there’s no setup to justify the escalated peril. Kaine also demonstrates his ability to communicate with spiders in #5, a power that is both random and dumb.⁸⁹

The book assumes a level of familiarity with Kaine the average reader does not have. Kaine’s history as a clone is explained in issue #1, but readers don’t get a clear idea of his non-spider powers or why he thinks the heroes would be pursuing him in Point One #1. (I read Spider-Island, and I don’t understand why he would believe that.) Yost also doesn’t let the reader know who the “Louise” Kaine mentions at the end of #4 is; a footnote would have been useful.

Kaine’s powers were reset in Spider-Island, so even readers who are familiar with Kaine can’t assume anything about them. In #1, we see his organic webbing and general spider powers. Kaine removes his beard and trims his hair with a touch of his hand in the same issue. Is this his “Mark of Kaine” power? (Or is it an art flub?) Kaine’s suit has a cloaking device, but Kaine uses it rarely. Why? In #5, Kaine mentions his strength, quickness, web shooting, and … an ability to talk to spiders. Revealing such a silly power so late in the book makes it seem like Yost decided on the spur of the moment to give him the power, which is doubly bad — a bad time to introduce it, and a bad power to introduce.

Scarlet Spider is a book that’s flawed but interesting. Other books may be more polished, but Kaine’s growth will be entertaining to watch — and given that he doesn’t have hundreds of previous appearances, readers believe he can change. I’m more than willing to give Yost and Stegman time to work out the flaws if Kaine remains as interesting.

Rating: (3.5 of 5)

Hawkeye, v. 1: My Life as a Weapon

Collects: Hawkeye #1-5 and Young Avengers Presents #6 (2008, 2012-3)

Released: March 2013 (Marvel)

Format: 136 pages / color / $16.99 / ISBN: 9780785165620

What is this?: Clint Barton (Hawkeye) and Kate Bishop (Hawkeye) team up to fight crime.

The culprits: Writer Matt Fraction and artists David Aja, Javier Pulido, and Alan Davis

Sometimes you want a break from big, event-driven comics. Something fun, lighthearted, with a lot of action. Hawkeye, v. 1: My Life as a Weapon fits that bill.

In Hawkeye, once and future Hawkeye Clint Barton enlists Kate Bishop, a teenage archer who also goes by Hawkeye, to fight crime. Clint is an amiable, normal guy, except for his facility with arrows: no super-strength, no super-intelligence, no powers, getting into scrapes partially by accident and partially through investigation. Clint’s lack of superpowers and seat-of-the-pants, haphazard superheroic style makes him more human and likeable than many superheroes.

Writer Matt Fraction‘s Clint has a great many similarities to the Iron Fist Fraction wrote in the The Immortal Iron Fist. Both are normal humans who have succeeded by extreme dedication to a martial art; both are rich; both are driven by a goofy dedication to morality but not the law; both lead with their chins rather than putting a great deal of thought into planning. Common enough characteristics in comics, I suppose, but somewhat worryingly, the characters have a similar internal voice as well: self-deprecating and humorous, as if to say superheroics aren’t as serious as others make it out to be.

Despite the frequent violence, Fraction maintains a lighthearted tone throughout. Clint’s mockery his own lack of planning and mistakes is a regular feature of his narration. Kate, of course, mocks the older Hawkeye. Rather than provide translation of non-English or garbled dialogue, Fraction fills the speech bubble with Clint’s guesses as to what the language is or what he hears instead of words. Instead of blacking out obscenities or using typographical chicken tracks instead, Fraction substitutes descriptive phrases such as “derogatory patriarchal epithet” and “slang for male genitalia.”

Fraction is not a writer who helps the reader decipher the plot. He’s more concerned with hooking readers with action and intrigue than making the story read smoothly. Present and past are frequently intercut, and Fraction begins the first three issues in media res. (Issues #4 and 5 are told linearly, though, and the result is much more comprehensible.) Fraction does not bother to explain the status quo: why Clint has a boatload of money, why Kate is no longer with the Young Avengers or romantically with former teammate Eli Bradley, whether the injuries Clint suffers at the beginning of #1 are a reference to another story. As to the latter, probably not, but that makes it confusing; why does Fraction bother to inflict such injuries without connecting them or Clint’s recovery to anything else? Footnotes, which might have answered some of these questions, are nonexistent.

Perhaps Fraction will explain these danglers later. If so, they are only a few of the many ideas Fraction teases as being important. Hobo code, an acolyte of Clint’s former teacher, and a mysterious redhead are among the plot points Fraction picks up and puts down again almost as quickly. Admittedly, the redhead is in an entire issue, but she’s enigmatic, around long enough as a character only for a quick hookup — random sex that portrays Clint as dangerous? unpredictable? sexually desirable? And then there’s the weird, squicky sexual tension between Kate and Clint that I hope Fraction drops immediately and never acknowledges again.

David Aja’s art on the first three issues is one of the book’s big draws. Whereas Fraction’s writing sometimes left me scratching my head, Aja’s art is almost always clear. (Sometimes too clear: the book makes a big deal of Avengers not killing, but that’s hard to reconcile with the injuries Kate’s arrows inflict and the havoc Clint’s shots cause.) Aja’s art isn’t the sharp, larger-than-life style that gets a great deal of attention, but it’s great for telling the story and setting the tone. My favorite trick was a series of small headshots of Kate, each with one letter of dialogue beneath it, framing panels of Clint shooting three arrows at once; it shows how quickly Clint can take a difficult — improbable — shot. On a sillier note, I laughed at the drawing of Hawkeye’s face with his traditional headgear (not worn in My Life) Aja uses to conceal Clint’s naked crotch instead of a black dot or blur during a fight scene.

Javier Pulido’s art on #4 and 5 isn’t as evocative or distinctive as Aja’s, but it’s still very good. Pulido’s work is frequently reminiscent of Jack Kirby’s, but it also contains elements Darwyn Cooke’s art as well. Pulido is not as clear as Aja, but he does action scenes well, and his style is well suited for the crime story at the heart of his two issues. Pulido doesn’t make much of the exotic Madripoor setting, but that’s partially because Fraction sets most of the issues indoor.

Young Avengers Presents #6, which is tonally and visually discordant with the rest of the book, is included as the last issue in the collection. The issue is drawn by Alan Davis, and his work looks nothing like Aja’s or Pulido’s: his work is slick, fluid, with characters’ expressions and bodies occasionally exaggerated. Fraction writes the story, but the characters’ roles are completely different: Clint is “dressing like a ninja,” and Kate is trying to determine what she wants her relationship with Eli Bradley to be. The plot doesn’t connect to the rest of the book in any way except to establish the two Hawkeyes know each other. In fact, it raises questions about Kate and Patriot’s relationship and her team affiliation the book does not answer. Perhaps it’s for the best; the final issue in the collection would have been a rotten place to establish the status quo, anyway.

Despite the book’s problems — and there are problems, however much this book has been lavished with praise — it’s inherent likeability makes it worth reading. I’m willing to give Hawkeye a second look, and I’ll be reading Little Hits when it comes out.

Rating: (3.5 of 5)

Spider-Man: The Complete Clone Saga Epic, v. 5

Collects: Amazing Spider-Man #405-6, Spectacular Spider-Man #228-9, Web of Spider-Man #128-9, Spider-Man #62-3, Spider-Man Unlimited #10, New Warriors #62-4, Spider-Man Team-Up #1, and backups from Amazing Spider-Man, Spectacular Spider-Man, Spider-Man, Venom, and Web of Spider-Man Super Specials (1995)

Released: January 2011 (Marvel)

Format: 472 pages / color / $39.99 / ISBN: 9780785150091

What is this?: The Clone Saga is wrapped up — ha! — Ben and Peter figure out what to do with their lives.

The culprits: Writers Tom DeFalco, Terry Kavanagh, J.M. DeMatteis, Todd DeZago, Howard Mackie, and Evan Skolnick and artists Patrick Zircher, Sal Buscema, Steven Butler, Gil Kane, and others

Spider-Man: The Complete Clone Saga Epic, Book 5 isn’t great, but I can praise some elements of the book without reservation. More importantly, little in Book 5 inspires the deep loathing the abysmal Book 4 did.

The high point of Book 5 is the five-part story that ran alongside “Planet of the Symbiotes” (reprinted in Book 3) in the Super Specials. Written by Terry Kavanagh, the tale introduces a new hero, Strongarm, who is created by a scientist’s reworking of Dr. Curtis Connors’s research. Strongarm’s story, which — of course — culminates in a battle with the Lizard, Connors’s alter ego, is forgettable, but Strongarm himself has a certain uncomplicated, Boy Scout charm about him. More interesting, though, is the attempt of Spider-clone Ben Reilly to assemble a life: a job, a love interest, a supporting cast. Heck, he even shows a hint of jealousy, and even though jealousy is a negative emotion, any emotion not connected to Peter Parker or clones is welcome. Chronologically, this story should probably have been included before Amazing Spider-Man #400 — it’s hard to believe Ben could get hired for a job without anyone remarking upon his resemblance to a front-page murder suspect — but it’s good to see the Spider-office spend some time on the man who will be Spider-Man for the next year.

I also like the New Warriors issues in Book 5. The three issues have nothing to do with Spider-Man, and most have little to do with the Scarlet Spider (Ben’s alter ego), but they are a nice, clone-free palate cleanser. Writer Evan Skolnick shows a different side to Ben, who relates to a team — something Spider-Man had not done up to this point — and even takes charge when necessary. The issues also have some intriguing subplots, which — again — have nothing to do with Spiders or clones … unfortunately, this makes it sound as if I’m tired of reading about Spider-Man or the Clone Saga.

Perhaps I am; the other three storylines in Book 5 don’t generate any interest in the clones. In quality, they range from dull (“Exiled” and most of “Greatest Responsibility”) to awful (“Time Bomb”).

The four-part “Exiled” crossover is mystifying, as the four issues have three unrelated stories in them. They are tied together by a subplot: Ben’s decision to leave New York, which he reverses almost immediately. The main stories are random. Web of Spider-Man #128 is a D’Spayre story — a D’Spayre story, for Odin’s sake! D’Spayre feeds on people’s, well, despair, and he’s always beaten when one of his victims overcomes that emotion. Web #128 is no exception. Amazing Spider-Man #405 and Spider-Man #62 shows Ben fighting a new adversary to protect his friend, Dr. Seward Trainer, and Trainer’s data; the B-plot shows some of Ben and Seward’s back story, which might be interesting except for the Clone Saga taint lingering over Seward. And Spider-Man Unlimited #10, the last part of “Exiled,” is a forgettable Vulture story that also has Ben helping Uncle Ben’s friend put his kid into college. Sure, why not?

The first two parts of the three-issue “Greatest Responsibility” are similarly forgettable. The new Dr. Octopus, who is also Trainer’s daughter, is revealed as the mystery villain from the middle of “Exiled,” to the collective yawn of the audience. Her conflict with her father and the Spider-Men features ‘90s conceptions of virtual reality, Trainer in an X-Men-style uniform, and one of the odder father-daughter relationships in comics. These issues aren’t awful, but the plot developments feel forced, and the plot and art are dated.

The final issue of “Greatest Responsibility,” Spectacular Spider-Man #229, is cut above the rest of the crossover, as creator Tom DeFalco, Sal Buscema, and Bill Sienkiewicz step up on what is ostensibly Peter’s last issue as Spider-Man before he is replaced forever. The plot is reminiscent of Amazing Spider-Man #33; since Amazing #33 is one of Spider-Man’s greatest moments, and echoing it to give Peter a sendoff is an excellent idea. Both issues have a battle vs. Dr. Octopus in an underwater base, Spider-Man trapped under broken machinery, and a loved one waiting for Spider-Man to return with medicine. Spider-Man’s escape is appropriately different from Amazing #33, and Spider-Man needing Ben’s assistance can be interpreted many ways. The execution on Spectacular #229 doesn’t do justice to the earlier issue, but the idea is so far ahead of the rest of the book I don’t mind.

Curiously, reprint editor Mike O’Sullivan inserted Spider-Man Team-Up #1 between the second and third chapters of “Greatest Responsibility.” In SMTU #1, Scarlet Spider and the X-Men ally to battle Shinobi Shaw’s Hellfire Club, and like Shinobi Shaw, the issue slips from the memory as soon as it’s out of sight. I don't see the logic of inserting the issue into the middle of a storyline, but I’m of two minds about including the issue at all; I like getting more stories, but SMTU #1 is of such negligible importance to Scarlet Spider and the Clone Saga that it feels like filler.

“Time Bomb” is a two-part story that, like Book 4, seems published solely to tear down Peter Parker. Premonitions in previous books showed Mary Jane, Peter’s wife, being killed by a mysterious assailant; writers DeFalco and Todd DeZago resolve the plot by making Peter, under the Jackal’s post-hypnotic, post-mortem control, the assassin. Scarlet Spider and the New Warriors attempt to stop him, but Mary Jane helps Peter break the Jackal’s control with the power of love — a clichéd ending that makes everyone other than Mary Jane look stupid.

The art suffers this time from a complete lack of the excellent Mark Bagley, although the inclusion of Patrick Zircher’s clean, clear, and exciting art on New Warriors helps make up the deficiency. Buscema and Sienkiewicz continue to contribute their not-so-excellent work on Spectacular Spider-Man, although through Stockholm Syndrome, I’m growing accustomed to them. (Buscema’s finishes of Tod Smith’s work on the Spider-Man Super Special are quite pleasing, reminiscent of Buscema’s earlier work.) Steven Butler’s work is sharp but entirely too over-the-top for me; the first image in Web of Spider-Man #128 is the Black Cat in a pin-up pose, her considerable chest thrust out, in the middle of swinging between buildings, which automatically discredits the artist in my eyes. The remaining pencilers range from good to serviceable in a ‘90s way, with no one so good you wonder what happened to them.

Book 5 is a significant improvement on Book 4, but that’s a backhanded compliment. If Marvel had drawn a line under the Clone Saga after this book and moved on, there would be something good to take away from Book 5 and some optimism for the future. But the Clone Saga will be back, as will Peter Parker, so everything will get churned up again. I can’t rate the mediocre Book 5 lower because of my dread of the future … but I want to.

Rating:

(2 of 5)

Spider-Man: The Complete Clone Saga Epic, Book 4

Collects: Amazing Spider-Man #402-4, Spectacular Spider-Man #225-7, Spider-Man #59-61, Web of Spider-Man #125-7, New Warriors #61, Spider-Man: The Jackal Files, and Spider-Man: Maximum Clonage Alpha and Omega (1995)

Released: November 2010 (Marvel)

Format: 480 pages / color / $39.99 / ISBN: 9780785149552

What is this?: The Clone Saga rushes toward its nadir.

The culprits: So much blame to hand out, so little time.

The Clone Saga, in which Spider-Man’s “clone” returns to his life, has a horrible reputation. Most comic book readers take this as an article of faith. I have read the first three volumes of the Clone Saga, and each were passable, if not always enjoyable. I was pleasantly surprised by this competence, but each competent volume only delayed the pain the Clone Saga’s reputation promised.

Now my waiting is over: Spider-Man: The Complete Clone Saga Epic, Book 4 is the awful sludge at the bottom of the cloning vat.

The Clone Saga could go wrong in so many ways, and Book 4 finds a surprising number of them. The most important mistake is undermining Peter Parker, and Book 4 does that as often as possible. Peter is revealed to be the clone, not Ben Reilly, as was assumed. Peter does little to clear his name while Ben sits in prison for him. He hits his wife.⁸¹ He runs out on his responsibilities and joins up with the Jackal, a mass murderer and the man responsible for the chaos of the Clone Saga. And he doesn’t join the Jackal while in a fugue or amnesiac state: he buys the Jackal’s idiotic lies and watches, without intervening, as the Jackal does evil things.

I think the most disappointing part is that when the Jackal claims the role of Peter’s father, Peter doesn’t tell the Jackal he had a father, and his name was Ben Parker. But that’s because Peter sees “clone” as meaning “outsider” and “other” and “worthless”; he doesn’t see the past he shares with Ben Reilly as his, he sees no future for himself, and he sees his present as valueless, despite the love of his pregnant wife. And so he becomes a supervillain’s henchman.

Our hero, everyone! It makes you want to shake him and scream, “GREAT POWER / GREAT RESPONSIBILITY, YOU @#*($ING TWIT.”

Since the Jackal was the villain of the original story featuring Peter’s clone, he is appropriately the Clone Saga’s main villain. Unfortunately, this means the Spider-writers have made “clones” a theme of the mega-crossover, and nothing devalues the uniqueness of a character like a clone. Four major versions of Peter Parker wander through Book 4: Peter, Ben, the original clone, Kaine, and a third clone. The third clone was introduced in Book 3 as an amnesiac Peter; the writers tried to fake out the readers and convince them this clone might be the original, but he turned out to be the Jackal’s super-secret mind-controlled agent who had complete control over every atom of his body. Ben called him “Freak Face,” but in Book 4 Jackal renames him “Spidercide,” a name so awful even the Jackal later disavows it. The Jackal also releases a hundred half-baked clones to stop Ben, which he and Kaine defeat easily, and the Jackal keeps mini-servitors, dressed in Jackal costumes, that he claims are clones of Peter.

By the end of Book 4, you wonder who isn’t a clone of Peter Parker. Perhaps it’s Spider-Man who is the superhero who could be you, literally — because one of you is the clone of the other.

The Jackal gets his biggest moments in Book 4. The problem with the Jackal — other than his incessant cloning — is a failing consistent with many villains with mysterious, overreaching goals: he keeps his goals secret whenever he can, and when he can’t, he lies. But most of his peers have some core value they cling to; Mr. Sinister has his obsession with Summers DNA, for instance. But the Jackal doesn’t have an honest bone in his body.⁸² He says he wants to replace everyone in the world with genetically perfected clones, but he’s going to get distracted the first time he gets thwarted by Ben or Peter or distracted by a shiny object. Then his long-term plot will be something else, and the previous plot will be revealed as a lie, along with anything else he said.

The only positive is the Jackal makes other villains in the Clone Saga look better by comparison. The usually cryptic Judas Traveller seems forthright, and his assistant, Scrier, is merely annoyingly enigmatic.⁸³ Helix, a mindless, rampaging superpowered man created by the Jackal’s Carrion Virus, is pointless but harmless. The identity of the newest Green Goblin is a happy diversion, rather than a frustrating non sequitur, when reader realizes the pages given to him could have been given to the Jackal instead. The Punisher, in a gratuitous cameo, becomes the greatest hero ever: he shoots the Jackal in the chest.⁸⁴

The art helps the story a little. To say it is inconsistent is an understatement, though. Mark Bagley’s kinetic, graceful work is a beautiful oasis, but Sal Buscema, inked by Bill Sienkiewicz, pencils as many ugly, scratchy pages as Bagley does pretty ones. Ron Lim’s work on Spider-Man Unlimited is a nice change from the rest of the artists in the book, whose work is, on average, good but a bit too Todd McFarlane / Image influenced for me.

Not everything is awful, but typing that makes me grit my teeth. The idea of putting Spider-Man on trial, with Kaine as his defense attorney and the inmates of Ravenscroft Institution as the jury, has some possibilities, but it’s ended quickly in favor of the asinine criminal trial of Peter Parker.⁸⁵ In a backup story, Ben Urich interviews Peter’s friends and family for a human-interest story on the man accused of a shocking murder; that’s a better idea for a full-length story than anything actually used for a full issue in Book 4. Readers finally get some closure when Kaine is revealed as Peter’s first clone. The best part, though? The relief of finishing the book.

Book 4 is everything fans objected to (except for the aimlessness and length) in the Clone Saga. There’s more to complain about than what I have listed; I didn't even get into how cavalierly the Spider-Men treat the presence of a Gwen Stacy clone or how little Det. Raven does to see justice is done or … or any number of things. The Complete Clone Saga, Book 4, is a black spot on Spider-Man’s half-century history.

Rating: (0.5 of 5)

Wonder Granny!

If you’re wondering what Richard Howell’s Wonder Granny looks like, here’s a panel from Vision and the Scarlet Witch (v. 2) #2:



Now get off her damn lawn.

West Coast Avengers: Family Ties

Collects: West Coast Avengers v. 2 #1-9 and Vision and the Scarlet Witch v. 2 #1-2 (1985-6)

Released: July 2012 (Marvel)

Format: 296 pages / color / $29.99 / ISBN: 9780785162162

What is this?: The West Coast Avengers, led by Hawkeye, establish themselves and try to fill out their roster.

The culprits: Writer Steve Englehart and artists Allen Milgrom and Richard Howell

West Coast Avengers: Family Ties is very much a book of its time. It’s a soapy team book, with rivalries and romance sandwiched between slugathons with supervillains. For someone like me who was introduced to comics via X-Men in the ‘90s, the character conflict and long-term plot development has a pleasantly nostalgic feel, especially since it is not accompanied by all that mutant angst.

Characterization is (mostly) a strength for writer Steve Englehart. He adds depths to some one-dimensional characters, such as robot supervillain Ultron and human supervillain Grim Reaper. Ultron (Mark XII) tries to reconcile with his “father,” Hank Pym; although the execution of Mark XII’s story is rushed and Ultron’s upgrades mean this plot probably won’t be referenced again, Ultron’s growth is a great idea with a good payoff. The Grim Reaper’s obsession with his brother, Wonder Man, is the only aspect of his character readers previously saw, but Engelhart gives him another character note: he’s a racist, although he excepts his girlfriend from his prejudice.

Englehart also takes up the challenge of making the book’s two married couples interesting, and he succeeds. (Given how difficult many creators find writing husbands and wives, that’s no mean accomplishment.) The Vision and Scarlet Witch and Hawkeye and Mockingbird have two different sorts of relationships; Vision and Scarlet Witch are stable, determined, and about to have a family, while Hawkeye and Mockingbird are high spirited, passionate, and always bickering. It’s no wonder Hawkeye and Mockingbird’s marriage didn’t work out.⁷⁹

But Englehart is not so successful with Tigra. Englehart spends a lot of time with Tigra, but his character arc for her is decidedly not modern. Tigra is a human who also has a cat soul inside her, which gives her not only a feline shape and superpowers but also feline characteristics — personality elements her human side wants to get rid of. So far, so good; it’s similar to a werewolf story, and Englehart even brings in Morbius the (ex-) Living Vampire and Werewolf by Night to drive home the monster angle. But Tigra’s internal conflicts come from her newfound fear of water, mercurialness, and promiscuity. A male character would not be given promiscuity as a character flaw, then or now, nor would fickleness be considered a sufficient challenge to overcome. I appreciate the lengths Englehart shows Tigra is willing to go to rid herself of her catlike flaws, but there are better cat characteristics he could have used: cruelty, aloofness (definite problem on a team), independence (ditto). Focusing on a female’s character’s sexuality is a cliché; silly fears and a proclivity to change her mind only make the stereotyping worse.

Exploring the problems of Tigra’s powers necessitates devoting several pages to Cat People continuity, which is not worth rehashing. But it’s just one example of Englehart’s reliance on continuity in Family Ties. Sometimes it works, as when he brings back Tigra’s old opponent Kraven for a rematch, but often it falls flat. The Cat People are an odd fit with a superhero story and not very exciting. The Grim Reaper / Wonder Man / Vision story works OK, but Simon's embezzlement — referred to in his origin story — is as exciting as accountancy plotlines tend to be. Englehart’s biggest success is using Secret Wars to explain why there are two Ultrons with differing personalities; the flashbacks with Ultron’s head controlling people are fun and creepy.

Englehart’s continuity mining limits his choice of villains, but fortunately, those villains are heavy hitters: Grim Reaper, Ultron, Kraven. Other villains are offbeat but enjoyable; I have a soft spot for Nekra, Black Talon and his zombies, and the Rangers. But the main villain in Family Ties, one who grows in importance in succeeding volumes, is Master Pandemonium, and he’s … oh, he’s not very good.

Master Pandemonium is just one of a type: the guy who makes a deal with the devil that goes horribly awry. Unlike Johnny Blaze / Ghost Rider, Master Pandemonium becomes evil when Mephisto gives him an opportunity to regain his soul. Until he reclaims his soul, he’s the amazing Fall-Apart Man, who has demons for limbs; they separate from him and fight his enemies, leaving him a floating torso. He can also summon demons from the great sucking star-shaped wound in his chest. Why he doesn’t summon demons rather than lose his limbs isn’t clear. But Master Pandemonium is utterly generic and utterly forgettable were it not for his role in future stories that helped victimize the Scarlet Witch.

Artist Allen Milgrom doesn’t shine on Master Pandemonium either. Milgrom gives Master Pandemonium a sinister, almost Yellow Peril look that clashes with his Anglo ethnicity. The forked Fu Man Chu resembles a stereotypical Asian villain’s facial hair, howevermuch it is supposed to evoke a pentagram, and his robes and cape certainly call to mind the Mandarin. Milgrom also draws standard Marvel Technicolor demons, which I’ve always been bored by. There’s little about them that differentiate them, artistically, from a host of generic monstrous humanoids.

Milgrom’s art is standard for the ‘80s, solid without being flashy. Milgrom tells the story without unnecessary flourishes; I especially like the slightly wall-eyed panels from the view of Ultron’s disembodied head. In #6, Milgrom’s rough pencils are inked by Kyle Baker, whose wider, softer faces works well on Tigra and the Cat People. Most of the rest of the issues are inked by Joe Sinnot, who contributes to the book’s traditional look.

Richard Howell draws the two issues of Vision and the Scarlet Witch included in Family Ties; overall, his work is more detailed and features more close-up shots of characters than Milgrom’s. His Nekra is wonderful, and he seems to enjoy drawing the Scarlet Witch. But there is a certain stiffness to many panels, his zombies aren’t frightening (the colorist's decision to make them dark gray has something to do with this), and his Wonder Man is awful, looking more like Wonder Granny.⁸⁰

Family Ties has too many continuity-filled soft spots to be great; Tigra’s short-sighted characterization may make it difficult for some readers to enjoy. But Family Ties does hit a nostalgic sweet spot at times, and between Englehart’s high spots and Milgrom’s solid art, Family Ties has a lot to offer, especially to those who wish they were still 10 and buying comics in 1986.

Rating: (3 of 5)

X-Factor Visionaries: Peter David, v. 1

Collects: X-Factor v. 1 #71-5 (1991-2)

Released: November 2005 (Marvel)

Format: 144 pages / color / $15.99 / ISBN: 9780785118725

What is this?: The U.S. government forms a new mutant team: X-Factor.

The culprits: Writer Peter David and artist Larry Stroman

Peter David’s run on X-Factor is much beloved, and in X-Factor Visionaries: Peter David, v. 1, Marvel’s first trade paperback reprinting David’s run, it’s easy to see why. It isn’t a masterpiece, as some would have it; however, it’s a very good example of a comedy / superheroic mashup.

Before David took over X-Factor with #70, the book had concentrated on the adventures of the original five X-Men, who had distanced themselves from the team after team founder Professor Xavier left for space and the X-Men welcomed former archvillain Magneto into their ranks. When Xavier returned, Magneto fell out of the picture, and longtime Uncanny X-Men writer Chris Claremont was ousted from the book, the line was reorganized. New Mutants had already become X-Force; the members of X-Factor returned to Uncanny X-Men, which spun off the adjectiveless X-Men title to handle all the mutants. Wolverine remained Wolverine. That left only X-Factor to be dealt with.⁷⁷ To his great credit, editor Bob Harras turned the title over to David, who made it a humor title.

Despite David’s success on Incredible Hulk, David’s direction on the higher-selling X-Factor must have felt like a terrible risk. Not only did David take the mickey out of the X-books’ traditional heavy-handed angst, he did it with a lineup of second stringers: a pair of B-list X-Men (Havok and Polaris), a former New Mutant (Wolfsbane), a B-list Avenger (Quicksilver), a guy who had been hanging around the fringes of the X-books for almost two decades (Madrox the Multiple Man), and a guy who was a bodyguard to C-lister Lila Cheney (Guido, who gets his “Strong Guy” name here). You can get less star power in a team book published by Marvel or DC, but I can’t figure out how, exactly.

But David’s humor is top notch. The breadth of David’s humor is incredible⁷⁸: wordplay, throwaway references to pop culture (liaison Val Cooper mentions her FBI agent brother, Dale — Dale Cooper being the protagonist of the then-current Twin Peaks), running gags, physical humor, funny dialogue … he even uses puns in a way that won’t make you want to strangle him. Every issue is funny, and every character is funny in his or her own way.

That’s not to say there aren’t serious moments; David’s run would not have been so fondly remembered if it had only been an outlet for David’s particular brand of humor. Characters face their own traumas and hang-ups, overcome their crises. When a reporter mentions mutants keep returning from the dead, Wolfsbane retorts that her “first love” is in the grave. Over several incidents, Madrox is forced to admit the duplicates he makes of himself aren’t just cannon fodder to be discarded whenever he wants. Although it’s early days for the title, David gives warning that he is willing to put his character though the wringer and examine their heads afterwards — all while maintaining that sense of humor.

I have few quibbles about the writing. David begins the gathering of the team already in progress in #71, and I don’t think that works very well; it feels as if something’s missing or being taken for granted. Professor Xavier’s insistence that Havok take the job as X-Factor’s leader for political and public-relations reasons is laughable, given how poorly he and the X-Men have always fared on that front. (No matter what Havok does, he can’t make a shovelful of difference in the hole the X-Men have dug fur themselves.) The Nasty Boys and their political backer are extremely forgettable villains for the first arc, especially given how little X-Factor does on their government jobs in five issues.

For real objections, though, I have to turn to the art. X-Factor’s pencils are by Larry Stroman, and he’s … he’s not my favorite artist, to say the least. I had hoped Stroman’s art would grow on me like Bill Sienkiewicz’s New Mutants work did, transforming my opinion from “horrid” to “acceptable” to “fantastic.” But it was not to be: I can’t stand his exaggerated style with lumpy heads and Muppet mouths and bulbous bodies. His fight scenes — which David gives him few of, admittedly — are weak, at best. At times I find it tough to look at his pencils.

And if I have one more protest — one not related to the content — it’s the price. Sixteen dollars for 144 pages? That’s a dime a page, more than double what the original issues went for. Five issues for $16 comes out to more than $3 per issue, triple the original price, although #75 is a double issue. You can pick up used copies of Peter David, v. 1, cheaply, but still: that’s a steep asking price.

Peter David, v. 1, isn’t perfect; no book is. But despite its flaws, it should be part of every X-fan’s library.

Rating: 4.5 of 5

Everyday papal excuse

I missed putting up a review today. You, the loyal reader, deserve a better excuse than “my personal life was crazy” or “I was crushed by the amount of work I had to do this week.” Frankly, you can get those kind of excuses anywhere, and we all know they’re lies, just excuses for being too lazy to put in the kind of quality work an unpaid “labor of love” deserves. So you get a better excuse. Like this one:

For the first time this year, I did not post a review on Friday. I apologize. The reason is quite jejune; I was doing some last-minute campaigning before the upcoming papal conclave . I'm not Catholic, but it’s a cushy job, and I figure nothing ventured, nothing gained; also, I've always been a fan of Cardinals (as long as they were from St. Louis).

NYX: Wannabe

Collects: Nyx #1-7 (2003-4)

Released: June 2006 (Marvel)

Format: 208 pages / color / $19.99 / ISBN: 9780785112433

What is this?: Teenage mutant runaways band together on the dangerous streets of New York.

The culprits: Writer Joe Quesada and artists Josh Middleton and Robert Teranishi

So, in 2003, the X-Men: Evolution cartoon introduced X-23, a character who was obviously a distaff Wolverine. She was mysterious, she was popular, and it was only a matter of time before she was introduced in the comics.⁷⁵ But it was the end Bill Jemas / Joe Quesada era at Marvel, so in retrospect it seems inevitable that X-23’s first comics appearance would be in something like NYX: Wannabe.

NYX was published a decade ago, but it already feels like an artifact from a strange time, as off-kilter for a Marvel / DC comic as something from the Silver Age. NYX features all new characters, without a cameo from an X-Man, Avenger, or Spider-Man. Four of the new characters are mutants, and New York’s District X — the mutant neighborhood featured in several X-books at the time and the “NYX” of the title⁷⁶ — is mentioned; ironic, since District X and new mutant characters were so forcefully jettisoned from Marvel during Quesada’s editorial reign that there’s still an X-shaped depression in the sidewalk outside the publisher’s office. X-23, NYX’s best known character, is recast as a near-mute child prostitute who isn’t even named in the story.

What Quesada wants to write is a response to or an updating of the Silver and Bronze Age tales of mutants discovering their powers. Kiden, a teenage club-rat, lives on the streets after her use of her new mutant powers leaves a teacher critically wounded. The teacher, Mrs. Palmer, joins Kiden after the shooting causes life-altering depression and PTSD. One of X-23’s johns commits hari-kari in front of her. Tatiana is hounded by a mob after her powers manifest — a “lynch mob chasing the new mutant” scene, a hallmark of the old days that we haven’t seen in a while — and she angsts about what her powers cause her to do. Together, they come together to bicker at each other and be hunted by X-23’s pimp, Zebra Daddy.

Quesada establishes these kids are on their own. Charles Xavier is not going to roll through that door offering them a new home and support group, so together, they form a community to protect one another. Unlike X-Men such as Beast, Angel, and Iceman, they aren’t exchanging a happy or stable family life for the Xavier School; for them, it’s a rough mutant life or no life. The runaways all seem to understand that only someone who has dealt with similar traumas can understand what they’ve been through.

Good so far. And Marvel does get points for giving new female characters a starring role in a miniseries and assigning a high-profile creator to the story. But that praise has to be tempered severely. The high-profile creator is Quesada, who is a great artist but not well known as a writer. More importantly, Quesada and artists Joshua Middleton and Robert Teranishi have looked at the line between “frank” and “exploitative” and said, “Hell, that doesn’t apply to us.” Kiden wears a bikini top and sucks on a pacifier on the cover of #1; inside the book, she’s shown sitting on the toilet with her shorts around her ankles and a pill in her hand. Middleton makes the brave choice to show her in a t-shirt and panties in the following pages. X-23 is dressed in lingerie and fishnets the entire series, occasionally donning a jacket to cover her nearly bare torso — inconspicuous clothes for a girl hiding on the street. There are prostitutes flaunting their wares everywhere. Tatiana, another teen, is the subject of a (non-revealing) upskirt illustration in another scene.

Perhaps I’m not qualified to judge. I am a (near) middle-aged man from a rural area. I know little about the subjects the book addresses: teenage runaways, prostitution (teenage and otherwise), the New York club scene, gangs, pimps. But NYX never convinces me Quesada and Marvel are treating these subjects with the respect they deserve.

Quesada is not an experienced writer at this point, and it shows in the plotting and the details. By an extreme coincidence, Kiden is given a chance to confront the man who killed her father, a police officer. Other than inertia, we’re never sure what motivates X-23 (again, she’s never given any name; her pimp doesn’t even know what to call her). Quesada mixes up names. None of the characters are compelling or likeable, although Kiden’s struggle from immature brat to responsible leader eventually makes her sympathetic. Tatiana is introduced halfway through the story, too late to feel like anything but an afterthought.

I’m not a fan of the art. Middleton tends toward the titillating, although not as much as he could, as shown in the cover ideas displayed in the back of NYX. His fine inked line and the washed-out colors give NYX an irresolute and depressing feel. Teranishi’s work has a stronger line but suffers from the same washed out colors while also looking less polished than Middleton.

NYX is both a daring idea and a spectacularly misguided one. The cast, except for X-23, does not seem to have been used again (except in the post-Decimation sequel, NYX: No Way Home), mitigating the goodwill from using new characters. Decimation also removed the ability for young mutants to create their own communities since there just aren’t enough of them any more. After removing all that, what remains is a weird, uncomfortable series that isn’t very good.

Rating: (1.5 of 5)

Spider-Man: The Complete Clone Saga Epic, Book 3

Collects: Amazing Spider-Man #400-1, Web of Spider-Man #123-4, Spider-Man #57-8, Spectacular Spider-Man #222-4, Spider-Man Unlimited #9, Amazing Spider-Man Super Special, Web of Spider-Man Super Special, Spider-Man Super Special, Spectacular Spider-Man Super Special, Venom Super Special, and Spider-Man: The Clone Journal (1995)

Released: September 2010 (Marvel)

Format: 464 pages / color / $34.99 / ISBN: 9780785149545

What is this?: Peter Parker deals with a trio of his clones, the police, and a death in the family.

The culprits: Writers Howard Mackie, Tom DeFalco, Terry Kavanagh, J.M. DeMatteis, and David Michelinie and artists Mark Bagley, John Romita Jr., Sal Buscema, Tom Lyle, and Steven Butler

I expected Spider-Man: The Complete Clone Saga Epic, Book 3, to be noticeably worse than Book 2. I was right; it isn’t very good, but fortunately, it’s not an irredeemable pile of crap or evidence the entire Clone Saga is unsalvageable.

Let me start with a positive, a strong positive: After reading Spider-Man: Identity Crisis, I’m struck by how much better the story-level editing is in Book 3; Danny Fingeroth keeps the stories from overlapping or contradicting themselves, even if I don’t care for the story being told. The stable of Spider-writers — Tom DeFalco on Spectacular Spider-Man, Terry Kavanagh on Web of Spider-Man, J.M. DeMatteis on Amazing Spider-Man, and Howard Mackie on Spider-Man — keep their characterizations consistent even as they struggle to move the plot along without revealing anything, because the Clone Saga has months to go yet. I mean, there’s a story here, but it doesn’t address the crossover’s big question: Is Ben or Peter the clone?

All that lack of storytelling creates a lot of slow spots. “Players and Pawns,” which starts the collection, is stalling until Amazing Spider-Man #400, which falls in the middle of Book 3. In “Players and Pawns,” a third clone of Peter Parker is released into the wild, and he wanders around a bit, amnesiac; both Peter and Ben reject claims that he is the original Peter Parker. All this sounds important, but of course rejecting proof that could answer the Clone Saga’s central question doesn’t advance the story, and the third clone doesn’t become important until “Mark of Kaine,” which ends Book 3.

The five-part “Planet of the Symbiotes,” which follows “Players and Pawns,” is told in the year’s substitutes for annuals (“Super Specials” for each of the regular Spider-Man titles and Venom). The story, written by David Michelinie, is filler, divorced from continuity, that shouldn’t need five double-sized issues to complete. The story also is an ill fit in this book, part of the era of disposable summer crossovers in annuals. By themselves, the Super Specials might feel like a big event — although I doubt it — but contrasted with other stories in Book 3, which have a relatively grounded attempt at continuity, the story of a race of symbiotes taking over Earth is ridiculous, especially when it’s never mentioned again.

The only issue in Book 3 that’s not a part of a crossover is Amazing Spider-Man #400, and it’s no surprise it’s the highlight of the book; it’s also the only issue in Book 3 I’ll remember. In ASM #400, DeMatteis writes a surprisingly moving story about a death in Peter’s family, giving the characters a sense of closure, while ending the story with a development that opened new story possibilities. (It wasn’t a shock, as it had been teased for quite a while, but I was surprised how much it caught me off guard.) More amazingly, DeMatteis manages five pages without dialogue or narrative captions, which must be a record for him.

It’s a shame he’s teamed on the issue with Mark Bagley, who is miscast at this point in his career on an emotional, conversational issue. But that’s in keeping with the book overall, as the art in Book 3 is undistinguished, at best. The John Buscema (pencils) / Bill Sienkiewicz (inks) combo on Spectacular Spider-Man hurts the eyes; it pains me to say this, given how much I enjoy the work of both. Steven Butler draws pretty but plastic people in Web of Spider-Man; Tom Lyle and John Romita Jr. do unremarkable work on a Spider-Man issue each. The art on the Super Specials are vaguely Image-influenced, except for Darick Robertson’s strong work on the Spectacular Spider-Man Super Special.

The two-part “Aftershocks,” like “Players and Pawns,” plays a waiting game, but it’s a much more tolerable one; it gives everyone a chance to react to the genuinely important changes to the status quo from Amazing Spider-Man #400. Two issues seems about the right amount of time for that — even if it does waste too much time on cosmic-level busybody Judas Traveller and the Jackal chewing the scenery in the Ravencroft Institute.

Then the third clone steps front and center, making the five-part final crossover (“Mark of Kaine”) a chore to read. After the clone remembers who he is, he tries to claim Peter’s life and wife and gets all grabby with Mary Jane. Kaine, having had precognitive flashes of Mary Jane’s death, kidnaps her and plans to keep her stashed in the sewers until … until everything blows over, I guess, which should be when all the clones degenerate. Obviously not the greatest scheme, but no one has accused Kaine of being a great thinker. The hiding doesn’t work, there’s a big, confused brawl, and the newest clone turns out to be a super-secret agent of the Jackal (so secret even the clone didn’t know it) who hideously mutates into someone drawn by Buscema and inked by Sienkiewicz. (He’s supposed be transformed into a monstrosity, and he certainly looks it, but the collaboration between Buscema and Sienkiewicz uglifies everything, so it’s hard to tell how ugly he’s supposed to be.) The story has too many Peters and too little reason to exist; the third clone goes from amnesiac wanderer to paranoid loon to genetic weapon in less time than it takes to whip up a batch of web fluid, but he never finds a moment to be interesting. Peter comes across as short sighted and irritable; only Ben seems reasonable, which wouldn’t have been a good idea if the writers were planning for Peter to remain Spider-Man.

Lyle tries to salvage something in Part 5 of the crossover (Spider-Man Unlimited #9) by writing a story that has nothing to do with the rest of “Mark of Kaine”: the Sinister Six / Seven teams up to deal with Kaine, who has already killed Dr. Octopus and the most recent Kraven. It’s a good idea for a story, one that had to be addressed if the villains were going to keep their credibility. The villains bicker, and the plan isn’t very good — the Hobgoblin has neither the leadership or strategic abilities of Dr. Octopus, which is demonstrated by his giving Mysterio and Shocker (!) handguns — and the trap predictably goes awry. But I enjoyed Lyle’s turn as a writer.

Volume 3 isn’t a disaster; many parts are perfectly cromulent. ASM #400 is excellent, as befits an anniversary issue. But the book is weighed down by “Mark of Kaine” and “Planet of the Symbiotes,” neither of which has a reason to exist, story wise. There’s no reason Book 4 and 5 can’t be worth reading, but you should borrow someone else’s copy of ASM #400 instead of spending time on this.

Rating:
(2 of 5)

Spider-Man: Spider-Island

Collects: Amazing Spider-Man #666-73 and backups from #659-60 and 662-4, Venom #6-9, and Spider-Island: Deadly Foes #1 (2011-2)

Released: September 2012 (Marvel)

Format: 376 pages / color / $34.99 / ISBN: 9780785151050

What is this?: The Jackal gives spider powers to everyone in New York City.

The culprits: Writers Dan Slott and Rick Remender and artists Humberto Ramos, Stefano Caselli, Tom Fowler, and Giuseppe Camuncoli

Over the summer, I started reading all of the Spider-Man collections after the Brand New Day reboot, using a combination of bargain books and interlibrary loan. Overall, the stories were amusing, but I didn’t think it was worth the huge retcon it took to set it up.⁷² I finally caught up with the collections by reading Spider-Man: Spider-Island.⁷³

When Spider-Island begins, Spider-Man is on top of the world, being part of two superteams, pursuing his solo career, basking in New York City’s adulation, dating police forensic scientist Carlie Cooper, working a dream job, and finishing his martial arts lessons with Shang Chi, Master of Kung-Fu. Into this set up wanders Miles Warren, also known as the Jackal, and a Spider-clone …

Wait! Come back! This is not a saga, and the clone is incidental. The Jackal, however, is important; his plan this time involves giving everyone in New York spider powers that will turn them into monstrous arachnids, then controlling them after their transformation via a mysterious ally. From there, the infection should spread across the country and the world, leaving the Jackal to rule over a world of spider humans and superhumans, who are immune to the infection.

Overwriting DNA is part of the Jackal’s modus operandi — I think; it depends on what Warren’s Carrion Virus does this year and whether the Jackal can really clone people. I’m not fond of the Jackal, since the character’s stench is all over the Clone Saga and some other bad stories. He does have a “zany” sense of humor, though, which enlivens his expository scenes and panels with his mysterious benefactor / co-conspirator, but it makes divining his motivations or taking him seriously difficult.

The Jackal is better than his partner, though. She’s portrayed in shadow for most of the crossover, as if readers would recognize her instantly if she were seen clearly. Instead, she’s the Queen, a continuity implant Spider-Man and Captain America fought in Spectacular Spider-Man #15-20. ⁷⁴ I’ve read that storyline, and I had completely forgotten her; it was not writer Paul Jenkins’s best Spider-work. I don’t mind writer Dan Slott using her, although she does take away from the central Spider-Man / Jackal rivalry. She latches onto the Jackal’s plans after he’s already set them in motion, showing how extraneous she is to the plot. What bothers me, though, is pretending such a minor character is a big deal; the character had not appeared outside of that storyline, yet Spider-Man and Captain America act as if she had been haunting their dreams. If Slott was going to use an overhyped 21st century Spider-villain, I would have preferred Shathra, really.

I have to congratulate the Spider offices on the mechanics of the crossover. It must be easier to coordinate a crossover when there are only two writers and titles (and a one-shot), but Spider-Island’s stories interlock as smoothly as two overlapping plots can. Slott and Venom writer Rick Remender frequently take a page’s worth of panels from the other’s story and use it to start their part of the story, and they manage to avoid contradicting each other. It may sound like I’m damning with faint praise, but I am impressed. Bravo!

Character and plot development is not curtailed in either book because of the crossover. In Amazing Spider-Man, Slott develops Peter and Carlie’s relationship, moves Aunt May and her new husband, Jay, to Boston, and has someone discover Spider-Man’s secret identity. (Weakening Spider-Man’s magical protection in this regard was long overdue, even if I think the actual mechanism used in Spider-Island was weak.) In Venom, Remender continues strengthening the bond between the Venom symbiote and its current host, Flash Thompson, and wraps up Flash’s tumultuous relationship with his father. Interweaving simmering subplots increases the verisimilitude of the stories; life goes on, even in a crisis, no matter how much you might want things to stand still.

Although the crossover’s villains are a disappointment, the supporting figures are wisely chosen. In a story about everyone in New York getting Spider powers, certain characters have to show up: Venom, Anti-Venom, Kaine (the first Spider clone), Alistair Smythe (the inventor of Spider slayers), the new Madame Web, Mary Jane … about the only relevant missing character is Spider-Girl, who gets only a cameo despite Slott’s fondness for the Young Allies. (I’m not fond of Madame Web and can’t understand why her mystical “Web of Life” powers aren’t as derided as JMS’s mystical turn for Spider-Man, but she needs to be in Spider Island.) Slott wisely spends considerable time with J. Jonah Jameson, who, in a development as entertaining as it sounds, gains spider powers.

In the crossover’s plotting is tightly coordinated, the same can’t be said for the art. Four different artists contribute at least one story to the collection. Humberto Ramos provides most of the Amazing Spider-Man art (#667-72). If you’ve been reading Amazing Spider-Man for a while, you know how you feel about his hyper-exaggerated style. I think it works better for comedy than it does for action and drama, but there’s no denying he’s become one of the go-to Spider-artists over the past decade. His work certainly sticks out among the more realistic styles of Stefano Caselli (#666 and 673 and Venom #9), Giuseppe Camuncoli (the main story from Spider-Island: Deadly Foes), and Tom Fowler (Venom #6-8). Of those, Fowler is my favorite, and I’d like to see his simple, retro-tinged style featured on its own. But the muddy coloring from John Rauch clutters and muddies his work. Caselli is fine, except when he gives Peter an emo / manga look very similar to how he draws Phil Urich. Camuncoli’s work is a bit sketchy and exaggerated for my taste, yet it still manages to look stiff occasionally.

I admire the execution of Spider-Island greatly. Unfortunately, that admiration can’t override a lot of what’s wrong in the crossover: the villains, Madame Web, clones ... It makes for a lot of conflicting feelings. The higher stakes hurt as well; Marvel isn’t going to wipe out the human population of New York, so of course the infection has to be completely eradicated. Perhaps if I connected more with Venom / Flash or with Peter’s new status quo, Spider-Island would have been more successful. Unfortunately, it comes across as a middle-of-the-road story.

Rating:

Incredible Hulk: Pardoned

Collects: Incredible Hulk #269-85 (1982-3)

Released: April 2012 (Marvel)

Format: 400 pages / color / $39.99 / ISBN: 9780785162087

What is this?: The mind of scientist Bruce Banner gains control of the Hulk’s monstrous body.

The culprits: Writer Bill Mantlo and artist Sal Buscema

Even though I had all the issues collected, I was looking forward to Incredible Hulk: Pardoned. The book collects one of the best writer / artist teams in Hulk’s history: writer Bill Mantlo and artist Sal Buscema.

Mantlo isn’t the greatest Hulk writer; that honor belongs to Peter David, whose almost universally praised run on Incredible Hulk lasted for more than a decade. But some of Mantlo’s nearly seventy-issue run presaged and inspired David’s, and David never worked with an artist like Buscema. To me, Buscema will always be the Hulk artist, with his knack for imbuing brutes with human expression and humans with almost monstrous expressions.

In Pardoned, Bruce Banner finally gets control of his Hulk persona after massive doses of gamma rays. (One might think Banner had futzed around with gamma rays so often that they wouldn’t have much effect, but that’s what Mantlo has chosen, so roll with it.) After that, Banner / the Hulk seeks a pardon and acceptance; with the help of the Avengers, he fights his old enemy, the Leader. The Hulk having the mind of Banner is interesting — and it’s hard to believe it two decades for Marvel to publish such a storyline — but it’s the implications, studded among the slugathons, that are the reward in this story.

You might think, as Banner does, that the fusion of brawn and brilliance will make life easy, especially after the pardon and support of the superhero community. But the change presents a new set of challenges. When longtime girlfriend Betty learns Banner wants to remain the Hulk, whom she hates, she rejects Banner. Former sidekick Rick Jones, who helped the scientist and his alter ego interface with humanity, feels useless now that the Hulk can function within society. Banner realizes the Hulk’s savage mind had an advantage to his more reasoning one: the Hulk was too stupid to fear danger, which made him furious and stronger. Banner also fares poorly under the media’s fawning attention. Fortunately, there is some compensation: the Avengers accept the new Hulk without reservation, and She-Hulk is happy her cousin is now, like her, in control of his gamma form.

So overall, it’s an action story with some exploration of how personal growth changes life. But this is also an early ‘80s comic story, and that means certain tropes that seem outdated appear. A couple of unnecessary fights break out because of miscommunication. Three alien Hulk foes appear, calling themselves “Hulk Hunters,” and wonder why the Hulk won’t go with them; alien insects devour a Canadian town’s wheat crop without a word of explanation, then blame the Hulk when he strikes back at them and ruins the boon they were going to give humanity. Of course, some hoary old story holes are eternal: the Leader refuses to kill the Hulk after defeating him, and the herald for the cosmic threat the Hulk Hunters want to Hulk to deal with is, of course, Hulk’s old foe, the Abomination.

(That last story ends with the Hulk punching a giant space mouth, though, so that makes it OK.)

Although Pardoned is a recognizable character arc, it obviously wasn’t written for the trade paperback form. Bereet, an alien filmmaker, plays an important role early on, but after a liaison⁷⁰ with the Hulk about two-thirds the way through, she almost entirely disappears. ⁷¹ The pun-filled issue with funny animal Rocket Raccoon sticks out like a stalk of broccoli in a jelly bean jar. Rick Jones’s radiation poisoning is mostly pointless, and the fight vs. Galaxy Master and Abomination serves only to deliver an extra dose of gamma radiation to the Hulk — not much of a payoff for two issues. The Hulk fights a great deal of villains without much purpose, but as the stories in Pardoned were written around the Hulk’s 20th anniversary, that’s no bad thing. Besides, most of the villains are a threat — the Leader is the most important, but Pardoned also has Abomination, Wendigo, Zzzax, the U-Foes, and a cameo from the U.S. Army.

As I mentioned, I think Buscema is the greatest Hulk artist, based both on the quality of his work and his longevity (he came onto the title well before Mantlo and left a few issues before, with #309). Pardoned gives him a chance to do something few artists get to do: humanize Hulk. Buscema succeeds admirably, and he also keeps the savage Hulk in his back pocket for when he needs him. Writer and editor Mark Gruenwald is credited with the art on #279, and he does a fine job on an issue without action and full of crowd shots — an excellent job, really, for someone with no reputation as an artist.

Pardoned, at times, reads like Mantlo was plotting by the seat of his pants; the first three issues have little to do with the rest of the story, and they feel as if Mantlo was trying to figure out how to start the story. But Mantlo and Buscema combine for a story that is surprisingly nuanced and innovative. My enthusiasm for Pardoned was not misplaced … although it was dampened by those first three issues.

Rating: (4 of 5)

Spider-Man: Identity Crisis

Collects: Sensational Spider-Man #25-6, Amazing Spider-Man #432-3, Peter Parker: Spider-Man #88-9, and Spectacular Spider-Man #254-5 (1998)

Released: May 2012 (Marvel)

Format: 200 pages / color / $24.99 / ISBN: 9780785159704

What is this?: Spider-Man assumes four new identities as he tries to avoid arrest and a bounty on his head.

The culprits: Writers Todd DeZago, Howard Mackie, Tom DeFalco, and J.M. DeMatteis and artists Luke Ross, Todd Wieringo, John Romita Jr., and Joe Bennett

Spider-Man: Identity Crisis is Marvel’s follow up to Spider-Hunt — and by “follow up to,” I mean “Part 2 of,” as Identity Crisis is a continuation of the previous storyline, with an added gimmick.

As Identity Crisis begins, Spider-Man still has a $5 million bounty on his head and is still wanted for murder. To avoid arrest, he takes on four new identities: Hornet (in Sensational Spider-Man), Ricochet (in Amazing Spider-Man), Dusk (in Peter Parker: Spider-Man), and Prodigy (in Spectacular Spider-Man). To aid in the deception, Peter tries to put on different personalities for each costume, with mixed results. Prodigy and Hornet are straitlaced heroes, although Hornet is more inexperienced (and Peter’s slips quickly revealed Hornet is Spider-Man). Ricochet is the closest to the Spider-Man persona, quipping and jumping around like a 5-year-old who has mainlined Pixie Stix, but he is willing to work with criminals. Dusk, a man of mystery, is even shadier, openly consorting with the Trapster.

The multiple-identity idea has merit. I’ve always thought Peter should have a road uniform, an identity he dons outside New York to keep people from linking his travel patterns with Spider-Man’s.⁶⁸ But no matter how good the idea is, two issues per identity and two months overall isn’t enough to explore Peter’s “identity crisis,” and it was never going to last more than the two months. God forbid Peter use the Dusk or Ricochet identities to infiltrate the criminal underworld or Marvel devote one of the Spider titles to Peter donning different identities.⁶⁹ In any event, Peter blows the Hornet identity and compromises the rest, and in less than a year, the costumes and identities went to new characters who starred in the short-lived Slingers.

Marvel’s inability to capitalize on the gimmick is frustrating — and no matter what writer Todd DeZago says in the included promotional material, Identity Crisis is a gimmick, as Peter never seriously considers exploring the other identities. The bounty / murder investigation plot is largely ignored, and Identity Crisis feels like two months of waiting for everything to wrap up. Spider-Man should use his new identities to avoid bounty hunters and clear his name, but mainly he uses them to tweak Osborn and go about his regular business. As Hornet, he fights the Looter and the Vulture. Ricochet goes after the Black Tarantula’s goons, Bloodscream and Roughhouse. Prodigy rescues a foreign diplomat’s daughter from Jack o’ Lantern and Conundrum, an illusionist. Only as Dusk does Peter do anything related to his current problems: protecting the life of the Trapster, the man who framed him, and trying to tape record a confession. That doesn’t work, but off panel, he convinces Trapster to admit in public what he’s done and clear Spider-Man. Ta-da! That’s heroism!

I don’t really blame the writers — DeZago in Sensational, Tom DeFalco in Amazing, Howard Mackie in Peter Parker, and J.M.DeMatteis in Spectacular — for this lack of narrative drive. Editor Ralph Macchio has to take a good deal of the blame; the books would have improved with a firmer editorial hand or steadier eye. In a minor and yet annoyingly distracting mistake, Mackie and artist John Romita Jr. show Peter accidentally donning pieces of all his different costumes in Peter Parker #91; in Amazing #435, DeFalco and Joe Bennett use essentially the same unfunny gag, mixing and matching the Spider-Man costume with his Ricochet costume. More seriously, Macchio allows each writer to advance subplots, which range from the Scriers, Alison Mongrain, and Kaine’s Grecian holiday in Amazing to Aunt Anna’s secret origins in Spectacular. The former is important to the “Gathering of Five / Final Chapter” storylines that relaunched the Spider-titles six months later, but it made the rest of the subplots irrelevant. Letting subplots continue during an event was a step forward for Marvel, which tried to minimize or excise them from the big X-crossovers of the early ‘90s.

The relaunch was a bit of a relief, though, as it made this book’s difficult continuity irrelevant. Identity Crisis reprints the issues in order of publication, but the story doesn’t make sense in that order — Spectacular #254, for instance, leads directly into #255, but it’s near impossible to order the other issues around them. The editors weren’t considering reprints at the time, but it must have been aggravating to read in 1998.

Macchio also could have mandated a consistent portrayal of Peter’s wife, Mary Jane. Identity Crisis falls between the Clone Saga, the first real salvo in the war vs. Peter and Mary Jane’s marriage, and The Next Chapter, the first time the marriage was done away with, so it’s interesting to see how Mary Jane is characterized. The portrayal varies; Mary Jane ranges from a co-conspirator in the costumed chicanery to a borderline shrew. It’s no surprise the former is more appealing. She designs the costumes (except for the Dusk outfit) and endorses the four-identity plot, but she also complains about the idea and nags her husband about his feelings of responsibility. DeZago plays her as supporting but worried when appropriate; DeFalco’s Mary Jane turns from enthusiastic to nagging on a dime; Mackie goes for nagging first, then to support; DeMatteis’s MJ is a callback to previous times, slightly resenting Peter’s duty but loving him anyway. Part of the various characterizations are because of different contexts, but DeFalco and Mackie seem convinced Mary Jane is a stumbling block for Peter to overcome. (Given what Mackie does to Mary Jane in The Next Chapter, that’s not surprising.)

A Spider-Man crossover in the ‘90s means at least four artists. Mike Wieringo’s work on Sensational is extremely pretty and expressive, easily the best in the collection. Romita’s work on Peter Parker is weak, even by my low expectations for his ‘90s work; for instance, if Norman Osborn didn’t have cornrows, he would be identical to Trapster, according to Romita. Spectacular’s Luke Ross does some nice design work with Conundrum, but he has trouble with subtle expressions (especially during Peter and Anna's talk in #257). Amazing’s Bennett turns in fine work, especially in the Buscema-ish touches on Roughhouse.

The book does have a couple of bewildering visual touches, though. Again, I think Macchio needed to step in and ask a few questions. Delilah, the Rose’s henchwoman, occasionally has a more ornate, larger font within her word balloons, and the font varies in both size and color. The dialogue stands out, but not in a good way; I have no idea what Amazing letterers Kiff Scholl and Richard Starkings are trying to communicate with the font. (Bold text or slightly larger text means a louder volume or emphasis, but this goes well beyond that.) The same goes for the Conundrum’s puzzle-shaped speech boxes in Spectacular; they are visually interesting, but what are Scholl and Starkings saying? I don’t need to be told they’re Conundrum’s dialogue, and I have no idea what a puzzle piece sounds like. The colorist on Amazing, Bob Sharen, makes an odd but Comics-Code inspired choice when the villain Bloodscream makes Delilah “bleed … through her skin!” From the colors, I’d say she bleeds milk from her eyes and A-1 Sauce from her nose.

I’m glad I read Identity Crisis. It completed Spider-Hunt, and it bridged part of a gap in Spider history I wasn’t familiar with. However, it was a stunt, and the actual story is fluff, with no long-lasting consequences or outstanding moments of characterization. Unless you’re a big Spider-fan, you should read the summaries on SpiderFan.org. Yes, DeFalco sets up plots that lead to the relaunch, but these are plots involve the Scriers and Alison Mongrain, which are better summarized than endured.

Rating: (1.5 of 5)