X-Men / SWORD: No Time to Breathe

Collects: SWORD #1-5 (2010)

Released: June 2010 (Marvel)

Format: 128 pages / color / $15.99 / ISBN: 9780785140764

What is this?: Abigail Brand runs SWORD, an organization on a station floating high above the Earth to keep the planet safe from aliens (and aliens safe from Earth).

The culprits: Writer Kieron Gillen and penciler Steve Sanders

X-Men / SWORD: No Time to Breathe was a last minute fill in for this week’s review. After my local library / librarian left me in the lurch, I looked through my reading list and selected SWORD to fill in the gap.

I had no recollection of ever reading any of writer Kieron Gillen’s other work, but after consulting my records, I remembered having previously enjoyed his work in the smashup TPB Dark Avengers: Ares. Gillen wrote the three-issue Dark Avengers: Ares miniseries, and I had been impressed by both the book’s violence and mythological feel and the characters’ depth and psychopathy.

SWORD is also a violent book, but not in the same way as Ares. Whereas Ares was the violence of war and the men who can’t keep themselves from fighting, SWORD’s violence is expressed as an action-filled space opera. There are coups, a bounty hunter, counterrevolutions, abductions, a fire-breathing space dragon, attempted genocides, battles for a space station, eye trauma, prison breaks, and several cases of explosive decompression, along with a few standard superhero type fights. Add that to a thief, romance, hard drinking (the dragon again), a ne’er-do-well brother, and a sense of humor that manages to fill the little space not devoted to the plot, and it becomes obvious No Time to Breathe is not just a subtitle but a warning to readers: this plot moves at a near-relativistic pace, and you better be ready for it.

Yes, that’s a bit of hyperbole, but there really are four different plot threads unspooling through SWORD, and there’s not enough time slow the pace. It becomes a little offputting when read all at once, although I can imagine that in monthly form it was a treat. This is certainly no decompression-fest,⁵³ and the humor gives Gillen a chance to put some distractions into the story, if not giving readers a break from the pace.

Gillen’s characters are fun, and he has the advantage of being having mostly a blank slate. Beast, of course, has almost a half century behind him, but if you remember he’s light hearted, smart, athletic, and a decent scientist (by Marvel standards), you’ll be OK. (There was a reason he was one of Scott Lobdell’s favorites when he wrote X-Men.) Agent Brand hadn’t been established as much more than a half-alien hardass, and Lockheed … well, this isn’t quite the Lockheed we’ve read about before, with the alien dragon suffering from depression at the loss of Kitty Pryde. Death’s Head has a history in the Marvel Universe, but since he appeared mostly in Transformers and Marvel UK, most readers don’t know it. And Henry Peter Gyrich is a bureaucratic butthead. …

… OK, most of the lead cast is established to some degree. Most of the rest are one-note aliens or SWORD staffers. However, there is one standout character: Unit, a robot that SWORD keeps locked up as if he were a cybernetic version of Hannibal Lecter. He seems to have those sort of deep insights that Lecter had into his jailers, even the ones he hasn’t met. Unit is kept locked up under the most stringent conditions SWORD has; he’s the product of a civilization that wanted to make the universe perfect and were willing to do awful things to achieve the goal. Unit’s creators have been destroyed, but Unit is still playing a long game to finish his creators’ plan. And that’s what’s creepy about Unit; his insights are annoying, but his ability to look dozens of steps ahead to wait for and create the perfect chance to accomplish what his creators could not is chilling.

I haven’t read anything by penciler Steven Sanders, but I enjoyed his work in SWORD. It took me a while to get used to his Agent Brand — the sunglasses were not quite what I was used to, and she was a bit top heavy — and the new post-Grant Morrison design of the Beast always strikes me as wrong (as it does cover artist John Cassaday — the shape of the Beast’s skull on the cover looks nothing like it does in the interior artwork, where it more closely resembles the many long-faced aliens). But I got used it, and by the end, I had to admit it was a neat trick for Sanders to match the plot’s extremely brisk pace and Gillen’s sense of humor.

It’s a shame that SWORD didn’t last longer, although it’s not a surprise. The TPB tries to weld “X-Men” onto the title, but it’s not an X-book — yes, Beast is a lead / supporting character in the book, as is Kitty Pryde’s dragon Lockheed, and Cyclops, Emma Frost, Warlock, and what I believe is Doug Ramsey make cameos, but that’s not enough. It’s a book with a sense of humor and a largely unknown cast of characters set outside New York / major team books’ circle, written by a man best known for an indy / non-superhero book (Phonogram) and penciled by an artist without much name recognition. Yes, Gillen has become a major writer for Marvel — his Thor run was roughly concurrent with SWORD’s run, and now he’s writing Generation Hope and Uncanny X-Men — but at the time, this was a recipe for low sales and early cancellation. And that’s exactly what happened.

Rating: (4.5 of 5)

Batwoman: Elegy

Collects: Detective Comics #854-60 (2009-10)

Released: June 2010 (DC)

Format: 192 pages / color / $24.99 / ISBN: 9781401226923

What is this?: The new Batwoman — how does she work this superhero game? How did she get here? What is that beautiful house? Is she right, or is she wrong?

The culprits: Writer Greg Rucka and artist J.H. Williams III

To me, nothing quite says “the birth of Baby Jesus” like pictures of people being punched and kicked in the face drawn by J.H. Williams III. But perhaps your idea of Christmas is a bit different than mine.

In any event, J.H. Williams week ends with Batwoman: Elegy. Unlike the previous entry, Promthea, Books 3 and 4, little the writer does can overshadow Williams’s distinctive art.

Williams deserves the accolades he has received for his work on Batwoman. His range is simply astonishing. He shifts his style depending on the situation — superhero battles have are in a different style than Batwoman’s interactions with her father, which are different than her childhood days, which differ from war scenes … and it’s all outstanding. I was convinced there had to be guest artists for some of the issues, since the styles were so different. But it’s only Williams.

The most striking art includes his depictions of Batwoman in her battle vs. the Crime Cult. The layouts are simply unlike anything you see elsewhere, with traditional panel grids frequently forsaken for jagged overlapping pictures that manage to combine the violence of the action as well as play with the nature of time. This art is the prettiest, as well — as much as I like the Mike Allred-style art that depicts Batwoman’s childhood, few readers are going to choose it over that of the main story. Part of the appeal is the stark red and black palette used by colorist Dave Stewart; Stewart avoids muddying Williams’s finished art and manages to give the book a distinct look that readers can absorb without even deciphering the art. But even the other scenes in the book can stand out, as Williams is making choices everywhere in Elegy — in backgrounds, in interweaving symbols into the layout and art — choices that other artists don’t even consider.

Don’t get the idea that Williams is perfect; no artist is. (Even my favorite comic artist, Bill Sienkiewicz, has detractors who make valid complaints about his style.) As I noted in the Promethea review, Williams’s inventive layouts can sometimes be needlessly confusing; there were a half dozen times when I turned the page and wondered whether I had accidentally skipped a page. With Promethea, the overly daring placement of panels can be forgiven, as Moore’s often dry yet still intensely original story cries out for art that is different and inventive. Batwoman, not so much. I also have to fault Williams’s design for the main character a little bit. Starting off Elegy, Batwoman came across as a great design for a villain: that morbidly pale skin, those inhumanly red lips spread in a wide smile … that, coupled with the uncomfortable intimacy between Batwoman and the thug she’s beating up, fits better with someone who’s emulating the Joker than the Bat.

Writer Greg Rucka’s story doesn’t rise to the level of Williams’s art — of course, not very much writing in any medium does. (See: Sturgeon’s Law.) It’s not that Rucka’s story is bad; there’s nothing here that makes me cringe or bores me, and that’s an accomplishment of sorts. But the missing family member who returns from the dead to harass the living and the Alice in Wonderland villain are tired comic book tropes, and like most DC books, Elegy does not care to help you catch up with the continuity the book is based on.

There’s a lot here to like, though, although she does come across as a typical Rucka protagonist: a tough female who can deal out punishment as well as take it. There’s nothing wrong with that, as far as it goes; comics need more characters like that, and Batwoman is different from Rucka’s other characters. She’s a former West Point cadet who was kicked out for her homosexuality; although her stepmother disapproves of her occasionally outré appearance, her father embraces who she is, both in and out of costume, and even supplies, monitors, and advises her.

There’s so much to like I can’t figure out how Rucka makes me so ambivalent about the character. It’s always something with Rucka, and it’s usually something different. I’ve read his Atticus Kodiak novels, and I’ve never actually liked the protagonist or the people he surrounds himself with. I read the Queen and Country novel and was unimpressed with the story. I’ve read other comics of his, and other than Whiteout and Gotham Central, I haven’t cared for them either. In this case, I think it’s the tired family tragedy. The death of her mother and sister at the hands of terrorists doesn’t seem to add depth to the character; that’s just plot trappings that complicate without entertaining or improving the character. Nor does the Crime Bible / prophecy plot add anything, although Rucka’s choice to use that plot in Batwoman’s first lead outing is understandable. Her desire to serve while maintaining the iron core of who she is — unable to compromise on either one — and the sweet relationship she has with her dad are what I want to see more of. The rest … the rest is useless.

Based on Williams’s art, I wish I could give this book my unqualified approval. I can’t, though. I think it’s worth reading, mostly for the art but occasionally for the writing. But I don’t think for a minute that the story will be for all readers, especially those not already familiar with Batwoman’s story. And those who see something unique in Williams’s work will not see much that is different in the writing. Still, Elegy is a solid book.

Rating: (3.5 of 5)

Jonah Hex: No Way Back

Collects: OGN

Released: June 2010 (DC)

Format: 136 pages / color / $19.99 / ISBN: 9781401225506

What is this?: Bounty hunter Jonah Hex deals with the family he never knew he had while being pursued for his father’s sins.

The culprits: Writers Justin Gray and Jimmy Palmiotti and artist Tony DeZuniga

Released to coincide with the Jonah Hex movie, Jonah Hex: No Way Back is probably better than big-screen version.

I’m just guessing, though. I haven’t seen the movie. I was really excited to see it, but then most of the reviews confirmed the dire news the trailers were showing: it was less Jonah Hex and more Wild Wild West 2,⁴⁸ and no amount of Megan Fox in a corset was going to get me to see that. Once was twice too many already.

Despite lacking corseted whores with hearts of gold, No Way Back is a solid little Western tale. It has an excellent pedigree; artist Tony DeZuniga is one of Hex’s co-creators, and writers Justin Gray and Jimmy Palmiotti are co-writers on the regular Hex series. Those three know what makes Jonah Hex work — bad men, a clear moral sense from Hex, lots of gunplay, and a high body count — and it’s all present here.

Gray, Palmiotti, and DeZuniga tell an important story about Hex’s wanderings, involving Hex’s rarely seen family, family he didn’t know he had, and one of his most frequent enemies, El Papagayo. Most of the character bits in No Way Back have been told before, but they’re not exactly well-known parts of his story: his mother running away with a traveling salesman, his father giving him to the Apache, the source of his mutilation. The idea of Hex having a previously unknown brother apparently came from idea bruited by DeZuniga and Hex’s original writer, John Albano.

It’s a lot to fit into 136 pages, especially since not only does El Papagayo reveal a connection between himself and Hex’s father but also because the stakes in Hex’s fight with him are larger than comics readers are used to between a hero and one of his recurring villains. It is ambitious; it feels cramped. However, I think what I term as ambition is really an attempt to tell a story a movie audience would be more interested in. (Or maybe it’s just DC loosening the creator’s reins to let them tell a big Hex story.) Let’s face it: despite tons of popular comic book movies over the past decade, the popularity of comic books has not increased measurably. It would make sense DC wanted something different than the normal serialized stories to offer to moviegoers when Hex came out; a big, self-contained story that told a good deal of Jonah Hex’s backstory might be just the trick.

For me, No Way Back doesn’t have to be a big story, but for the purpose it was commissioned for, it did. I can be satisfied with any story from Hex’s life, as long as it fits the character and is exciting, but there would be no reason to do an original graphic novel for that. Gray and Palmiotti get to do that in the Jonah Hex series; they’ve told almost five years of those stories. I can’t blame them for wanting to raise the stakes or DC for allowing them. However, the major revelation of the existence of Hex’s brother combined with the use of Hex’s most recognizable foe not in the movie makes me feel as if the importance of the plot is being shouted at me.

Perhaps I’m being too picky. But that feeling of 200 pages of plot being crammed into 136 pages of OGN isn’t completely in my head. The fight scenes are abbreviated, with only one good twist and one extended fight in the whole book. Unfortunately, there are times in that fight when DeZuniga’s art isn’t at its best, either lacking clarity or fluidity.

DeZuniga’s art is actually my only other niggling complaint. DeZuniga is almost 70 years old, and for a 70 year old, his work is excellent. But his line isn’t as straight or sharp as it once was, with some scenes lacking detail, and as I mentioned, his action scenes were occasionally lacking. I have to admit, however, he can still draw Jonah Hex’s scarred face, Western scenes, and pretty ladies well.

I have, in the past few years, wondered when the Big 2 companies would end their reliance on the monthly comic book and go straight to publishing original graphic novels. Now that the future of comics looks to be electronic, that day will probably never come. But No Way Back shows me why I was probably wasting my time waiting. Comic book readers are programmed to expect every story to further the character’s narrative or fill in his backstory. But No Way Back feels … unconnected. It fits in a place in Hex’s story — 1880, according to Wikipedia, but I didn’t see anything confirming that in the book — but it doesn’t feel like it connects to anything before or after. That might be because I don’t regularly read comics with Jonah Hex, but I don’t think so.

Still, No Way Back is a fun and violent read, despite my niggling concerns.

Rating: (3.5 of 5)