Avengers Academy, v. 2: Will We Use This in the Real World?

Collects: Avengers Academy #7-13 (2011)

Released: January 2012 (Marvel)

Format: 168 pages / color / $19.99 / ISBN: 9780785144977

What is this?: The students being trained by the Avengers not to be supervillains start getting some field work.

The culprits: Writer Cristos Gage and artists Mike McKone, Sean Chen, and Tom Raney

As I mentioned in my review of Avengers Academy, v. 1: Permanent Record, Avengers Academy is a series with potential. The problem with potential, of course, is that you have eventually start delivering on it.

Writer Cristos Gage had the luxury of devoting an issue on each of the Academy’s six morally ambiguous and powerful students in v. 1, showing readers each character’s set up and establishing his or her personality. In Avengers Academy, v. 2: Will We Use This in the Real World?, he has to start developing these characters. Which way will they go — toward heroism or toward the dark side? Of course, advancing the characters doesn’t mean showing their final choices immediately; it just means they have to become something more or different than they were.

Well, not really. For characters that are already interesting, such as the amoral and emotionally disconnected Finesse, the only thing Gage needs to do is keep the character interesting; unfortunately, Finesse gets only two character moments in this book, and one of them is fighting Taskmaster. Taskmaster may be Finesse’s father, but their skirmish reveals more about Taskmaster than Finesse.

Other characters don’t get much to do either. Mettle is still a good-natured lug, trapped in an unsightly form, although he’s reaching out more toward Hazmat. Striker is still a self-centered jerk, and one incident shakes his confidence in the value of fame compared the risk involved in heroism. Reptil, the ostensible leader of the group, barely shows up until the end of the volume, when he confronts Finesse and has to decide how much his maturity is worth.

The students who get the most development are Hazmat and Veil. They (and Striker) are partners in crime in avenging the Hood’s attack on Tigra, and they share the blame. They both learn that in the future, they will not be cured (or more accurately, in a possible future, they will not be cured). Credit goes to Gage for addressing the possibility of using nullifier technology to help Hazmat, who gets a day with power-stealing mutant Leech to enjoy the world without her killing powers. She rejects Leech as a long-term therapy, seeing that she would only be using him as a crutch. Veil makes the worst decisions possible, and somehow, she comes out smelling like a rose at the end of it all. Infuriatingly, her teachers smile indulgently rather than punishing her. At least she learns some self-reliance.

The teachers get some screen time as well. Quicksilver is still his acerbic self, and he steals any scene he’s in. Justice exists, and his only real importance comes at the party in #13. Speedball is still the New Warriors martyr, and his cutting in Permanent Record is revealed to be his way of powering up for fights (yeah, right). Hank Pym becomes Giant Man again; it’s never a great sign for Pym’s mental health when he changes names, and it doesn’t help that he highlights his many names and bouts of mental instability in issue #7. On the other hand, Pym and Gage get points for mentioning the Sentry was the least mentally stable Avenger, and Pym’s moment of compassion for Absorbing Man is a nice moment for Pym.

Tigra gets a good deal of attention, although most of it revolves around her dealing with the Hood attacking her in New Avengers #35 (not footnoted), but there’s also a bit of her relationship with Hank Pym and the baby she had with Skrull Hank Pym. (Did you know she had a child? Neither did I, but it was born in Avengers: The Initiative #35. It was never mentioned in Permanent Record, though. You’d think that would be important, even if Tigra is a secondary character in this title.) She seems to be making another attempt at a relationship with Pym, which makes even less sense that it did the first two times. But what is Avengers Academy if not the refuge of heroes who make horrible, horrible choices?

I really didn’t appreciate the use of Korvac as a villain in #11 and 12. He was the antagonist for one of the most lauded Avengers stories of all time (The Korvac Saga), in which he beat a powerhouse lineup of Avengers and was defeated only because he gave up. Using him to give the Avengers Academy students a push doesn’t make the Avengers Academy kids (or their future versions) look tough; it just makes them look as if they found a loophole the defeated Avengers did not. Although in theory defeating Korvac should make the team look impressive, Korvac will return, and if we’re lucky, this story will be referenced. Honestly, I get the feeling this battle will disappear, never to be referenced outside this title again — and that’s not something that should happen with a conflicted, powerful character like Korvac.

The final issue in Real World features a party that includes the Young Allies and some members of The Initiative as guests. In theory, this is an outstanding idea; it increases the dating pool, and gives the characters non-psychopathic colleagues and peers to interact with. On a practical level … I’m not so sure. It does give readers some closure on the Firestar / Justice romance that we’ve needed for a long time, and it allows some romantic subplots to move forward. However, having the students attend the dance in their costumes is an awful choice, emphasizing the artificiality of the setup. What kid would want to go to a dance in their work clothes or form-fitting spandex? If they wanted to conceal their identity, they should have gone with domino masks or some other contrivance.

More importantly, some of the interactions in #13 are predicated upon knowing what happened in the Young Allies / Avengers Academy crossover, Avengers Academy: Arcade: Death Game (also not footnoted). With a name like that, you would think it would have been included in the numbering of Avengers Academy volumes. Unfortunately, it wasn’t, and it doesn’t include any issues of the regular Avengers Academy or Young Allies series; instead, the book has the double-sized Avengers Academy Giant-Size and two reprint issues featuring the villain Arcade. I am not paying $15 to buy that (or even $3 to interlibrary loan it). That’s not Gage’s fault, I suppose, but it does put a slight crimp in my enjoyment.

As for the art in Real World… Oh, Mike McKone. I didn’t care for his work in Permanent Record, and I liked it less in Real World. McKone pencils #8 and 9, and he has the same odd spacing of characters in close ups that make them look as if they are about to kiss, regardless of the emotions between the characters. He has Tigra wearing more to bed (a t-shirt) than she wears in public. The cover for issue #8 (featured on the back cover) features Finesse seemingly leaning backwards to display her breasts; unfortunately, to get that angle, her neck is doing impossible things to put her head forward.

More importantly, his art for the battle between Finesse and Taskmaster is lacking. With two characters who can mimic the fighting style of anyone they see, McKone can do anything, show all sorts of crazy attacks. But what McKone actually shows are the moments between the attacks. Finesse disarms Taskmaster of his sword; how? I don’t know. A panel shows her kicking it, but it’s already out of Taskmaster’s hand by the time that happens. Taskmaster disarms Finesse right back, probably with a shield bash, but it’s hard to reconcile with the panel before it. Taskmaster chokes Finesse with a lariat; how did he get it around her neck? At one point, Taskmaster throws his shield at Finesse … and misses. A man who has copied Captain America, fighting an inexperienced opponent, just misses. That’s a horribly missed opportunity.

On the other hand, I was able to identify minor crimelord the Slug just from McKone’s art. So there is that.

I enjoyed the other artists much more, and I would very much like to see more of them (and less of McKone). Tom Raney penciled #7 and 11-12; he’s been a good artist for quite a while. I liked his work with the size-changing Pym, but his adult Reptil didn’t look old enough — more like a college student with a goatee than a 30-year-old. He really needed to put more work in on the redesigns of the students’ future versions; evidently, all that will change is that the males who can will grow goatees and Hazmat and Finesse will get slight changes to their costumes. Sean Chen was my favorite, as I enjoyed the tight, controlled line of his artwork, and he was able to handle the quiet conversations and crowded party scenes in #13 equally well. I can’t decide whether Hazmat and Leech’s mysteriously unexplained transportation from New York to San Francisco and back in an afternoon is his fault or Gage’s (teleportation? Infinite mansion? Quinjet?).

Gage continues to develop some of the new characters, even if in Real World it’s only Hazmat and Veil. Unfortunately, between Korvac and Finesse’s pointless fight and Tigra’s less than satisfactory moments, there are some questionable plot choices. There is still hope for the future, though.

Rating: (2 of 5)

Avengers Academy, v. 1: Permanent Record

Collects: Avengers Academy #1-6, story from Enter the Heroic Age #1 (2010-1)

Released: January 2011 (Marvel)

Format: 168 pages / color / $24.99 (hardcover) / ISBN: 9780785144946

What is this?: Some of the more troubled Avengers try to surreptitiously steer some of Norman Osborn’s more volatile test subjects toward heroism.

The culprits: Writer Christos Gage and penciler Mike McKone (with help from Jorge Molina)

There are a lot of people who complain about the dearth of prominent new characters being created by the Big Two comics companies. For example, look at Marvel: the last important, popular new character to headline a title, Deadpool, first appeared in 1991. That’s more than twenty years ago. This realization leads to two questions: whose fault is this, and what can be done about it?

I don’t know the answer to the second question, but I’m pretty sure the blame for the first lies with comics readers, or at least those who read superhero comics. In the last ten years or so — since the Bill Jemas years — Marvel has not been shy about tossing new, young characters at their audience, both singly and on teams: Spider-Girl. Araña (or Spider-Girl, Part Deux). Gravity. Amadeus Cho. The second New Mutants / second New X-Men. The Hood. X-23. Hope and her mutant team. The Young Avengers. Runaways. Young Allies. Slingers, if you want to go back to the ‘90s. Many characters from Avengers: The Initiative — and I’m sure there are others I’m missing. But none of them survived very long, except Spider-Girl, who limped along for about 130 issues at the bottom of the sales charts. The next most successful is The Initiative, and it lasted about three years.

All of this is a roundabout way to bring up Avengers Academy, v. 1: Permanent Record. In Academy, some of the Avengers set out to teach young heroes how to use their powers safely, using a school environment —

Yes, I know you’ve heard that setup before. And just like in The Initiative, King Screw-Up himself (Hank Pym) is in charge of molding young minds into please-don’t-be-a-morally-ambiguous-part-time-mentally-ill spouse abuser. But this time, that’s part of the point: All of the students at Avengers Academy have been flagged as possible problems. All were abused by Norman Osborn and his HAMMER goons, and their psychological evaluations raised concerns. So no one is sure what these kids are going to do, left to their own devices. To show the kids they don’t have to give in to destructive impulses and can rebound from wrong decisions, Pym gathered a “bad choices” teaching staff: Quicksilver, a part-time villain who is possibly the only Avenger less stable than Pym; Justice, who killed his father; Speedball, who was crucified by Brian Michael Bendis for the sake of Civil War; and Tigra.

At least it gives writers something more interesting to do with the characters when this book is cancelled. Unlike in one of the X-Men spinoffs, they don’t have to be “random background figure in team crowd scene #2” — they can be a hero or a misguided villain.

Writer Cristos Gage makes each character the focus of one issue in Permanent Record. It’s a good choice, and even though only half of them seem to be the threats the story wants us to believe they are, each is given a chance to be seen as human, with some good and some bad within them. Finesse, who has a natural aptitude for everything but human interactions, is the most intriguing of the group; it’s easy to see her slipping to either side of the hero / villain divide. Her relationship with Quicksilver, the most morally ambiguous of the teachers, is fascinating, especially given her missing moral compass and Quicksilver’s inability to find the ethical North Pole. Finesse seeks knowledge and doesn’t care about moral implications. Implications of any sort elude her, as seen in her relationship with Reptil: she attaches no emotional component to their physical liaisons, and her lack of emotional connection means she doesn’t consider Reptil’s feelings. But she’s surprisingly introspective about her blind spots. Of course, lack of understanding of actions and their consequences is a perfect issue to explore in a comic about teenagers.

The rest of the characters are, if not clichéd, then at least a bit predictable. Striker is the brash glory hog. Veil is the ingénue. Mettle is the good-natured brick who hides his tortured feelings beneath an invulnerable surface. Hazmat is the one with the sour disposition; at least the loss of her formerly perfect life, combined with her now-isolating powers, gives her an excuse for being surly. The issue featuring Reptil, the wannabe leader who has always wanted to be a hero, is the weakest of the book; I didn’t get the character’s disillusionment, but my inability to comprehend may extend from not having read the character’s appearances in The Initiative. It may be part of the “leadership” character trait he’s been given, ⁶³ although given his desire to be a hero, we’re fortunate Gage didn’t make him the stereotypical star-struck rookie.

Of course there’s teenage drama. Of course some of the kids want to go after their tormenter, Osborn, as soon as they can. Some of them want fame, exposure. There’s the usual drama with hormones, both appropriate and inappropriate, with Hazmat — whose touch is poison — having the Rogue drama⁶⁴ of not being able to touch others. The team seems like an actual group of teenagers, for the most part.

Gage tries to make the teachers relevant as well. He doesn’t have anything for Tigra to do in the book, but the others all get some time. Some of Gage’s decisions, like making Speedball a cutter, is a bit questionable, and Pym is such a screw-up you have to wonder why the Avengers would let him do this again. Justice is the good-hearted guy who attracts inappropriate crushes, just like in The Initiative. Quicksilver, as mentioned above, is always interesting, especially when Finesse makes him confront his time as a villain and his relationship with Magneto. Gage has an uphill battle rehabilitating the character after the heel turn he took between Decimation and Civil War, and he still has work to do. But I’m willing to go along with it for now, which is a credit to Gage’s writing.

The story structure allows for plenty of guest instructors, both heroes and villains. Some of the guest heroes are predictable; Steve Rogers comes by to teach the newbies not to underestimate unpowered opponents, and Iron Fist beats up Finesse to show the difference between mastering technique and knowing when to use it. But Hawkeye’s suggestion of a media day is a good use of the character, and it prompts Pym’s priceless line, “I think I see why Janet left me for you.” Others make the most of brief appearances. Moonstone is hilarious in her cameo, as is the paranoid Ghost. Valkyrie is funny as a militant feminist, but that doesn’t seem in character for her. Even Moon Boy and Devil Dinosaur sneak into the background of Reptil’s story. Gage makes some nice choices of creepy villains, such as Mandrill and Crossbones, for background flavor at the Raft.

I’m not sure about McKone’s art. For the most part, I like the style, but occasionally I find something annoying about it. There are times I can’t figure out what exactly is supposed to be going on. Sometimes I don’t know whether it’s the art, writing, or a deliberate mystery that’s confusing me: how did those prisoners get out of their cells in the Raft, for instance? If it was because of the blackout, why didn’t the kids run across any escapees on their way to Osborn’s cell? And did Striker and his mother engineer the supervillain attack on the team to get Striker publicity?

Other times, though, I’m sure it’s McKone. He seems to have problems with perspective when two characters are close together, such as Greg and Jenny in #3 and Finesse and Quicksilver at the end of #2 — is Finesse expecting to kiss Quicksilver? Am I supposed to take Veil’s tears in #4 seriously? Why does Powderkeg look so much like a helmetless Juggernaut? His female figures seem to pose too much — even the one wearing a hazmat suit.

More importantly, McKone’s character designs leave something to be desired. Perhaps we’re supposed to see their simplicity as a reflection of our lack of knowledge of the characters or of their lack of experience. Or perhaps it’s just what McKone thinks inexperienced people would design. But Finesse’s costume is horribly boring, a rip-off of the old Mockingbird costume that exchanges the bell sleeves (thankfully) for a pair distracting stripes on her legs. Veil looks like something John Romita, Jr., would have created during his late ‘80s Daredevil run. The rest are unexpired — a superstrong copy of the Red Skull, a guy with a black costume with lightning effects, a very slightly modified hazmat suit, for Kirby’s sake. Ugh.

Getting back to the idea I started this review with: Academy is a good title. Perhaps not great, but there’s still time for that … probably. But how long will it have to get there? And would it matter if they did? All those other titles (except perhaps Araña) were good, and one or two of them reached some pretty impressive heights. But they all were low selling, and quality didn’t keep them from succumbing to superhero fans’ apathy to new ideas.

Rating: (3 of 5, although that’s not giving any credit for potential)

Amazing Spider-Man: Brand New Day, v. 3

Collects: Amazing Spider-Man #559-563 (2008)

Released: February 2009 (Marvel)

Format: 120 pages / color / $14.99 / ISBN: 9780785132424

What is this?: Mary Jane crosses paths with Spider-Man again as Peter deals with the life of the paparazzi; Spider-Man learns about the Bookie.

The culprits: Writers Dan Slott and Bob Gale and pencilers Marcos Martin and Mike McKone

It’s been a year since I’ve read anything from the Spider-reboot, Brand New Day. I hadn’t forgotten about it, but I had put it on the back burner. But I was looking for something to review, and the local university library had Amazing Spider-Man: Brand New Day, v. 3, so here we are.

I enjoyed v. 1, but I felt it was using the reboot to tell stories that wouldn’t have needed such a drastic reboot if the Spider-books hadn’t gone off the rails so badly. I felt v. 2 was a bit of a misstep, focusing on an uninteresting villain and a mystical adventure outside Spider-Man’s bailiwick. Fortunately, v. 3 only makes one of those mistakes.

The first arc is written by primary Spider-scribe Dan Slott, and Slott manages to make the best of a story, like One Moment in Time, that had to be told regardless of who wanted to read it. Although the “return” of Mary Jane is ostensibly the big draw in Amazing Spider-Man #559-61, Slott does a good job of making Mary Jane only a peripheral part of the story. There’s not enough room here to do justice to the big emotional payoff we’d expect from the meeting, so Slott is satisfied with letting us know Mary Jane’s status quo. On the other hand, I’m not sure getting across her status quo requires the amount of presence she has in this story. It’s a tricky balance, and although Slott pulls it off as well as I could have expected, I’m not satisfied with MJ’s presence either.

The main focus is an obsessed fan Spidey dubs “Paper Doll,” a two-dimensional stalker who can make her victims two dimensional as well, causing suffocation because of their newly tiny, tiny lungs. There’s not much to Paper Doll except for an set of powers that is underused in comic books, but for a one-off villain, there’s not much more needed. She remains true to her motivation and doesn’t clutter up the plot (she probably should have gone after Peter Parker at some point, though). If there’s use for her in the future, her character can be developed better then. I do call foul on her real name, so subtly revealed I picked it up only on a third read-through: Piper Dali.

What Slott does best is update the mass-media world that employs Peter Parker. It isn’t as a radical (or unlikely) a shift as the Peter-as-Bugle-Webmaster Brian Michael Bendis gave us in Ultimate Spider-Man, but it’s much easier to take. Dexter Bennett, the new publisher of the Bugle, assigns Peter to the celebrity beat, something his Spider-abilities make him supremely suitable for. Of course, best friend Harry Osborne — reasonably a long-term target of paparazzi — isn’t wild about the switch in career, and Aunt May isn’t exactly proud either. Neither is Peter, for that matter, but the paychecks are good.

Spider-Man also fights a Web-savvy villain, Screwball, who translates her villainy into fame via the Internet. Maybe she makes money at it; I dunno. But it makes sense there would be someone like her in Spider-Man’s New York. The writer of the next arc, Bob Gale, also uses the Internet / villainy connection in a way that feels natural.

The second story is a two-parter in which Gale tells the story of the Bookie, the gambler at the Bar with No Name that sets odds for superfights. He’s appeared a couple of times in the Brand New Day setup, and I can’t say that I’ve ever wondered what his story was. Nevertheless, here we have it, and of course it involves bad luck, bad odds, and fixed games.

It’s a shame that Gale’s decided to focus on the Bookie when there’s not much interesting about the character. Gale seems to have a good handle on the villains at the Bar with No Name — the whole scene with Spidey in the Bar is well done, both by Gale and by penciler Mike McKone — and I have a great deal of respect for someone who decides to use the Enforcers out of Spider-Man’s entire rogue’s gallery. (I’m not sure about Ox’s characterization, but I’m not sure he’s been given a personality in almost 50 years of appearances, so I’ll let it slide.) His Spider-dialogue — like Slott’s — is spot-on. But I don’t care about the Bookie or his father or any of his hare-brained schemes, not even when it’s suggested the Bookie could have the answers to clear Spider-Man from the most recent charges of murder that have been leveled against him. Spider-Man is always cleared, more or less, so there’s not much excitement there, and I didn’t get the feeling that whoever is framing Spider-Man is that important. (From things I’ve read online since this came out, I know that might be wrong. But Brand New Day hasn’t convinced me of the culprit’s importance.)

Whatever I think about the plots, the art remains a strength for Brand New Day. The artists in this book have some of the highest quality-to-amount-I-like-their-work ratios other than Frank Quitely. Marcos Martin pencils the first arc, and although I don’t like the way he draws faces and human bodies⁴⁹, I can’t deny he knows how to make a scene visually interesting. Whether it’s Spider-Man debating with himself over whether to take celebrity pictures or Paper Doll alone with her collection of newspaper clippings, there’s rarely a dull page. I also enjoyed the fight scene in an art gallery, where Martin got to use his art studies to integrate Andy Warhol’s and Roy Lichtenstein’s work into the Marvel Universe — and into a fight scene. I enjoyed McKone’s work more, although I wasn’t quite as impressed with it. Still, the scenes inside the Bar with No Name were fun, as was the rescue on Coney Island.

There’s nothing wrong with the stories in v. 3 — they’re fun, lightweight, refreshingly free from grit or heavy gloom. That’s part of their charm, and that’s a large measure of their problem; there’s no real substance here. No matter how strong the art, no matter how encouraging the new direction, the stories themselves feel like a sweet, frothy dessert with little to sink one’s teeth into. Like the rest of Brand New Day, it’s a strong reboot. The individual appeal of the stories, however, is much less, despite strong writing and penciling.

Rating: (3 of 5)

Justice League of America, v. 3: The Injustice League

Collects: Justice League of America (v. 2) #13-6, Justice League of America Wedding Special #1 (2007-8)

Released: June 2008 (DC)

Format: 144 pages / color / $19.99 / ISBN: 9781401218027

What is this?: The Justice League comic crossed with the Superfriends and Justice League Unlimited cartoons — no Wonder Twins, though

The culprits: Writer Dwayne McDuffie and pencils by Ed Benes, Joe Benitez, and Mike McKone

I stay away from the mainstream DC universe because experience and other reviews have told me that they are so mired in continuity that they border on incomprehensible. But I have a soft spot for writer Dwayne McDuffie, and Justice League of America, v. 3: The Injustice League looked isolated enough, so I decided to take a chance.

The good news is that Injustice League requires almost no knowledge of DC history to enjoy, except perhaps that Green Arrow and Black Canary are getting married, but you can figure that out for yourself. The bad news is that Injustice League breaks no new ground, re-treading plots seen before while making the heroes seem not too terribly bright.

I will admit there are some fun parts. McDuffie is a good writer, and his script (if not plot) often shows it. The Wedding Special, with its infuriatingly superior Batman, is a nice touch, and the banter between Black Lightning (who McDuffie does well) and Jon Stewart is fun as well. McDuffie, who was also a writer for the animated Justice League and Justice League Unlimited, does a good job with a large cast, something that can be very difficult.

But Injustice League seems a little backwards looking to me. (And not just because of Benes’s art; zing!) It’s a simple, old-school plot: villains team up to take on heroes, capture the heroes, then screw up by not killing them. There are the rivalries between villains and between heroes and villains. Worst of all, Injustice League seems to take great pride in copying their animated television library. The Hall of Doom, looking exactly like it did in the Superfriends cartoon, gets a double-page spread at one point: Nothing else on the page, just a drawing of building that looks vaguely like Darth Vader’s helmet sitting in a swamp, for no other reasons than to help fanboys who don’t have access to Viagra. The composition of the League is more like the Secret Society of Justice League Unlimited, a large consortium of supervillains joining up to have a chance against the heroes. And then there’s Amanda Waller, also prominently from JLU, showing up to unnerve the heroes and take the captured villains off for some nefarious purpose.

I like the scene at the beginning, with Joker, Lex Luthor, and Cheetah (Cheetah? Really? Needed a Wonder Woman villain, I suppose) selecting the new Injustice League, but even that’s relying on the past, as it mimics the Justice League’s big three selecting the new Justice League at the beginning of v. 2. The difference is, of course, that judging from the size of the new Injustice League, they really weren’t that picky. I also don’t care for the little epigrams at the beginning of each issue; I don’t need my morals spoonfed to me in little yellow text boxes. (Like metal spoons and caviar, it affects the taste.)

Four issues in the main story, three different artists, three different flavors of cheesecake. Normally, I like variety, but not in this case. Look, these are competent artists, but they do have differing styles, and I’d at least like to get used to how females are exploited without having it shifted so quickly. Ed Benes likes him some female buttock — there’s a double page spread where he gets to draw nearly full-page versions of Vixen and Black Canary with their posteriors toward the reader, with a bonus of Wonder Woman spread eagled facing the reader. When he needs to, he contorts the bodies painfully to get a backside view. Joe Benitez seems to like his females standing on their tiptoes, plus he gets to draw a lot of Black Canary in her fishnets. Mike McKone didn’t really have that option. He has to settle for plot-mandated shots of Cheetah’s chest, plot-mandated strippers, and … all right, I’m unfairly lumping McKone in with the other two. Still, he only gets the Special, while Benitez gets #13 and Benes #14-5.

The two backups from JLA #16 strike me as inconsequential. One abandons a cop to an alternate universe and introduces an alternate universe Flash, leaving her lying on the page, without any resolution, characterization, or reason to care; Benitez doesn’t get any women on their tiptoes (plenty of Black Canary, though), but he does get to draw an extremely vacuous, naïve-looking female Flash. In the other, Red Arrow makes a former felon’s Christmas by remembering the old man used to try to kill him. It takes all sorts, I suppose.

This is not bad by any means. If you’re reading Justice League, this is just another volume, and it’s not one that is awful or disappointing. The problem lies with the potential; a huge group of villains against a smaller group of heroes could be pyrotechnic or at least exciting. But McDuffie doesn’t do anything spectacular with the concept, and he doesn’t do much new. I realize he might be setting up future stories, but honestly, even setup should be entertaining in its own way.

Rating: (2 of 5)