X-Men Forever, v. 2: The Secret History of the Sentinels

Collects: X-Men Forever #6-10 (2009)

Released: March 2010 (Marvel)

Format: 120 pages / color / $16.99 / ISBN: 9780785136804

What is this?: Before they bury Wolverine, the X-Men dig deeper into the conspiracy against them and find Sentinels.

The culprits: Writer Chris Claremont and artists Paul Smith and Steve Scott

Whatever goodwill I had for X-Men Forever led me to buy X-Men Forever, v. 2: The Secret History of the Sentinels. After the newness of the concept of writer Chris Claremont’s elaborate What If? series (featuring the X-Men) wore off, what would be left?

The answer — as if you needed to be told — is writer Chris Claremont.

Claremont’s distinctive dialogue and cadences overwhelm everything else in Secret History. If this were a decade ago, when Claremont was returning the X-titles and this might do any good, an intervention would be in order, with his colleagues and editors showing him how his verbal tics and word balloons were hurting those around him. Given that an intervention is out of the question, Claremont needs someone to do something similar to what former Marvel editor Christopher Priest said his assistant, Maddie / Adam Blaustein, did with Peter David — winnow down his excesses while leaving the essential, appealing essence of the writer. Isn’t that what an editor is for? Perhaps not. In any event, it’s not worth the effort now; Claremont is who he is, his work is what it is, and almost everyone knows how he or she feels about that.

For those of you playing Claremont cliché bingo, using Secret History, I will serve as caller: Baseball. Vintage plane fetishism. X-Men cleaning up the wreckage of one of their fights. Obtrusive military slang. Danger Room malfunction. Bad accent (Gambit only, oddly, even though Nightcrawler and Cannonball are in this book). “Best at what I do” (non-Wolverine division). If you did not win, best of luck next time; I’m sure the “mind control” square on your card is certain to be covered next time.

The story involves the return of the Sentinels, as you would guess form the title. With Nick Fury part of the book’s cast, Claremont makes the dramatic choice to tie the Trask family, who created the Sentinels, to the Nazis. This seems unnecessary but ultimately harmless, but Claremont links a couple of other characters to World War II and the Fury’s old commando group: SHIELD agents Daisy Dugan and Tommy Juniper, the latter explicitly the great-nephew of Howler casualty Junior Juniper. If this were a SHIELD book, these generational links would be a great idea. But this isn’t a SHIELD book; it’s an X-Men book. And the X-Men are firmly tied to the beginning of Marvel’s ten-year (or twelve-year or fifteen-year) timeline. Delving into their past tends to lead into Xavier, Juggernaut, or Magneto stories, areas that have long since been overmined.

On the other hand, the X-Men do have one character with whom the theme of family does work: Cyclops, who ironically started as an orphan. The book’s most affecting scene is its final one, two pages of Cyclops flying to Alaska to visit his grandparents, father, and son in Alaska. Scott reuniting with his son, Nathan, and their interaction feels real and is touching because of that.

That last issue is the best in Secret History. In #10, the X-Men hold a funeral for Wolverine, who died all the way back in #1. It’s not a perfect issue, God knows — unrestrained by action, Claremont's word balloons overrun everything, like a sort of verbal kudzu. But given that the action in the rest of the book is nothing to remember, something different is welcome. The issue gives everyone a chance to take stock and reflect. The New Mutants, Excalibur, Fantastic Four, and an abbreviated Avengers team show up, as do various X-Men hangers-on and ex-X-Men. It feels like an important event without being too clichéd or overwrought; the funeral itself takes only two pages, with Cyclops giving the eulogy.

The rest of the volume is forgettable, at best. Issue #6 is an embarrassment of X-clichés, with the X-Men playing baseball among wreckage in the Danger Room, which as a matter of course malfunctions. The next three issues feature a battle against a Trask and her Sentinels, ending with a particularly anticlimactic fight that Jean Grey ends by throwing a tantrum.

The subplots are ignorable. Claremont tries to interest readers in a conspiracy vs. the X-Men, but it’s not working. “Continuum” is a dull name, there’s no hint of what exactly the group’s agenda or grief with the X-Men is, and revealing one of the conspiracy's heads is the newly introduced mother of another newly introduced character is underwhelming. The flashbacks — Logan teaming up with Fury’s Howling Commandos in World War II and Bolivar Trask showing his family his Sentinel works — are old hat and dull. The only interesting subplot involves the child Storm, who is trying to figure out what she is and where she should go; this actually gives Gambit a bit of relevance, since he serves as Storm’s hedonistic counsel against the moralistic X-Men. Forge and lil’ Storm’s reactions toward each other at Wolverine’s funeral is a nice touch.

The art is fine. Paul Smith draws #6 and #10, and he’s exactly the type of artist you’d expect Marvel to assign to Claremont’s nostalgia title. Smith worked with Claremont on Uncanny X-Men #165-70 and 172-5, including most of the issues from the classic X-Men: From the Ashes storyline. Smith’s art has changed over 30 years, of course, and at times it looks like it’s taken on some characteristics of fellow Claremont collaborator Rick Leonardi’s work. On the other hand, Steve Scott isn’t a classic Marvel artist, and the bulk of his work for the company comes on the Marvel Adventures line. He’s a good choice for that, as his line is clean and his characters are bright and attractive, easy to tell apart. It’s not a distinctive style, though, which might have been what Marvel was aiming for; if you’re reading Claremont in the 21st century, do you really want something to distract you from Claremont’s plot and words? No, you do not; Claremont’s the feature here.

Secret History isn’t bad; its sin is larger. This book is just not that interesting, and the greatest emotion it arouses in me is occasional annoyance. Some will feel the warm flush of nostalgia when they read Secret History, and there’s nothing wrong with that. I’m well insulated against that warmth, however, and I think most readers are as well.

Rating: (1.5 of 5)

Pop Quiz: Essential Sgt. Fury and the Howling Commandos, v. 1

I’ve just read the Essential Sgt. Fury and His Howling Commandos, v. 1, and boy, did it raise some questions. Lucky you: I’m going to share some of them, and I’ll even add a few of my best guesses for each. But I don’t know which is right. For the answers, visit your local Army recruitment office, which will be glad to educate you on all manner of topics related to national service. (You may have to sign some paperwork before they give you the answers. Please do so without annoying the nice recruiters by reading it.)

1. When during World War II do these issues take place?

a) 1942. The missions in North Africa means everything must happen before the Afrika Korps surrendered in May 1943 and more probably before the climactic battle of El Alamein in fall 1942.
b) Late 1943 or the first half of 1944. Many mentions of the future D-Day landing are made, and planning for that operation took place between late 1943 and the invasion date of June 6, 1944.
c) Yes.
d) The Silver Age of World War II. Excelsior, True Believers!

2. The Howling Commandos go on at least one suicide mission per issue, but after the 23 issues in Essential Sgt. Fury and the Howling Commandos, v. 1, the seven-member squad loses only one man. Why can’t the Germans (and occasionally the Japanese) kill the verdamnt Howlers?
a) For dramatic purposes — if the book were more realistic, the series would have been a miniseries, and everyone would have been dead at the end of it.
b) No one dared tell Stan Lee that “suicide mission” didn’t mean what he thought it meant.
c) The German soldiers were actually time-lost clones of Jango Fett, which is why they have to share six names (Otto, Fritz, Siegfried, Ernst, Ludwig, and Baron).
d) Well, judging from the art, the Japanese suffered from some unfortunate eye condition that probably hampered their aim. The Germans were probably too busy learning English to practice their marksmanship.

3. Hmm … Well, why don’t the Germans speak German?
a) Comic book conventions for foreign languages, such as brackets and footnotes, were not common at the time.
b) They were so poor they had only this outrageous accent!
c) The German language was taken by the Allies after World War I as part of reparations.
d) German and Japanese didn’t exist as languages before the end of World War II. They were inflicted upon the defeated Axis powers by the Allies as their cruelest punishment.*

4. This is World War II. Where are all the dead bodies?
a) These particular battles were fought under the GI Joe / Hardy Boys rules. Deaths are for exceptional, dramatic reasons only, and injuries can’t actually cause anything more than general weakness, holes in clothing, and mild blood stains. Soldiers being knocked unconscious and / or suffering head wounds (especially if bullets “graze the temple”) are acceptable.
b) These particular battles were fought under the video game rules. Dead bodies disappear a few seconds after they collapse, leaving occasional power ups such as health packs and grenades.
c) The dead bodies are immediately swept under the Comics Code of America symbol.
d) People died in World War II? Oh my God! Why didn’t anyone tell me?

5. What is Baron Strucker doing in this panel?
a) Spoken-word performance art titled “For the World Is Hollow, and I Have Committed Genocide against the Lesser Races.”
b) Breakdancing to a funky groove being laid down by DJ Nazi Jeff.
c) The latest dance craze to sweep the Fatherland — either the Hitler Stomp or the Nazi Hop.
d) Waiting for his turn to dance with Mary Jane Watson down at the Coffee Bean. She’ll dance with anyone … and I think you know what I mean by “dance.”**

6. In #17, why are the Howling Commandos, who have just finished a mission in the Sahara Desert, said to be only “a few miles” from a jungle?
a) Because the lush, tropical rainforest is right next to the arid, sandy desert. Duh. That happens. It’s like asking why someone would say you’re only “a few miles” from New York if you’re in Weehawken, N.J.
b) Nazi super science.
c) As every American knows, it’s only about 100 miles or so from Cape Town to Cairo. How far from one another can things in Africa be?
d) Because Stan Lee — that’s why.

7. What does the narrative box mean when it says Dum-Dum Dugan took care of the German guards “Commando style”?
a) He slit their throats, dispatching them silently.
b) He shot them both with a single bullet to the back of the head, killing them quickly and professionally.
c) He knocked them unconscious, then stole their underwear. The Allies wanted to bring freedom to all men in Europe!
d) He confused them with an Arnold Schwarzenegger impersonation, shot them, then made a horrible pun about “not seeing” (“Nazi-ing”) them again.

8. Fury and the Howling Commandos was published in the mid-‘60s, before the Civil Rights Movement gained traction in popular media, and it depicted an era when Americans dehumanized their war-time enemies with ethnic slurs. So just how racist is this book? (Please see #10, iii, before answering.)
a) More nationalistic than racist. Like most comic books of the time (and even up to the present day), other nationalities are reduced to quaint stereotypes. These are meant to be shorthand for “different” rather than demeaning, no matter how outdated or simplistic they are. The Howling Commandos are more ethnically diverse than most comic book teams of the time, and they were definitely more diverse than the actual US Army during World War II, which was still segregated.
b) As above, but still kinda racist.
c) Pretty racist.
d) This is a book in which Gabe Jones cows a bunch of African tribesmen with the jitterbug, crappy magic tricks, and a Masonic ring. What do you think?

9. Each combat mission, no matter how involved or difficult, takes place entirely in one issue. How many issues would each mission take to tell in a decompressed 21st-century comic?
a) Two or three issues each. These stories don’t leave much room for things like subtlety or, you know, characterization.
b) A mission could be spread over three issues, but you need downtime issues — these are soldiers; they need to, well, decompress.
c) Each Silver Age issue probably could sustain a whole storyline — one trade paperback per mission.
d) Brian Michael Bendis has just announced that Sgt. Fury and His Howling Commandos #1 will form the basis of the first two years’ worth of stories in Ultimate Sgt. Fury and His Howling Ultimates.

10. Consider the following four statements, each of which happened in Essential Sgt. Fury I:
i. The Germans attempted to tunnel from France to Britain, secretly, as an invasion plan.
ii. A submarine fired the Howling Commandos out of torpedo tubes, which should have crushed their spines like soda cans.
iii. Izzy Cohen passed himself off as a Japanese officer with a little tape and mud.
iv. Fury led a mission (without orders) against a German bomber squadron base to get revenge for one person killed in a bombing raid.
Which of the above is the most ridiculous?
a) ii.
b) iv.
c) i and iv, tied.
d) iii and iv, because ii happens in movies and books often enough we’ve become used to the idea.
e) This book has infantrymen shooting down enough German planes — with machine guns — to qualify as aces; one squadron performing missions in Europe, Africa, and the Pacific (always returning to England); suicide missions on which no one ever dies; and missions with no logical chronological order. But you’re concerned with these four things? Really?


*As for Italy, there is no such language as Italian. It actually is heavily accented English and wild hand gestures.

** The mashed potato, perhaps, or the cool jerk.

The Pulse, v. 2: Secret War

Collects: Pulse #6-9 (2005)

Released: Marvel (July 2005)

Format: 96 pages / color / $11.99 / ISBN: 9780785114789

What is this?: Luke Cage is injured and missing, and his girlfriend, Jessica Jones, looks for him.

The culprits: Writer Brian Michael Bendis and pencilers Brent Anderson and Michael Lark

I enjoyed writer Brian Michael Bendis’s work for a long time, although looking back on my reviews of his work, it sure as hell hasn’t seemed like it.

Still, the last Bendis book I reviewed, Daredevil, v. 13: The Murdock Papers, was a definite step up from some of his other work. Plus, I had read the first volume of The Pulse and enjoyed it enough to keep an eye out for it. So when I saw the book cheap at Edward R. Hamilton, I decided to pick up The Pulse, v. 2: Secret War.

This is what is known, in technical terms, as a big f@&$& mistake. Secret War is a four-issue deluxe decompression crapfest.

The Pulse was Bendis’s successor title to Alias. In Alias, former superhero Jessica Jones worked as a private investigator. It was a great concept with an engaging character and strong plots. In The Pulse, Jessica works the superhero beat for The Daily Bugle — a sensible plot idea, but what is the actual plot?

Jessica and Luke are blown up, then taken to the hospital. Luke is kidnapped? Maybe. Jessica looks for him, gets kidnapped by Hydra … why? Who knows. The Bugle’s crack staff is nearly useless. Nick Fury is to blame, because he’s done bad things. What kind of bad things? Bendis won’t tell us. Wolverine cries like an automated mutated crying machine to a woman he doesn’t know. Evidently it’s all gotten to be too much for him, what with starring in five or six books rather than the three he headlined in the ‘90s. Iron Fist is a bit of an ass to Jessica because … because he doesn’t keep in contact with Luke Cage? That’s what he says, but that sounds half witted, and Misty Knight later tells him so.

I’m sure this would make more sense if I had read Bendis’s five-issue Secret War miniseries, which started before the issues in this volume were published but ended after this TPB came out. The story involves a covert, unapproved invasion of superheroes into Latveria, led by Nick Fury; Fury wipes the memories of the heroes involved. This volume describes part of the Latverian counterattack. Not having read Secret War, I can’t say why an invasion of Latveria is a big deal; the Fantastic Four used to do it every week in the Silver Age (twice a week in months in which oysters were unsafe to eat). The Avengers invaded Latveria. Cloak and Dagger, for God’s sake, invaded Latveria. And there have always been counterattacks by villains for what the heroes do, but until Bendis started plotting Marvel’s books, it was an accepted fact. I can’t get worked up by it, even though Bendis asks me to do so without telling me why I should get worked up.

I can get worked up by his dialogue, which seems, for most of the book to be expressly designed not to actually reveal information. It’s all false starts and stammers and ostensibly witty comments that fall as flat as the page they’re printed on. Information comes out in dribs and drabs, with actual communication between human beings seeming like an accident rather than the way the story is designed. For instance, it takes three pages to deliver the information that Nick Fury and SHIELD can quash any story in any newspaper, like the Bugle. Keeping in mind that Jameson continually knuckling under to that sort of pressure is asinine, that’s still a lot of time required to get across a simple piece of information. (Also: in the exchange, Robbie Robertson sounds less like a veteran newsman of a previous generation and more like Brian Michael Bendis.) This is not uncommon from Bendis, of course; in fact, it’s the hallmark of his worst work.

Art is supplied by Brent Anderson (#6-7) and Michael Lark (#8-9). I like Lark’s work, although I don’t think it’s his best; it’s gritty, its rough look is appropriate for a book in which people are supposed to be hitting the streets and investigating crimes, and it’s reminiscent of the work of Michael Gaydos, who was the artist on Alias. His combat scenes — especially the SHIELD agents rappelling into the Hydra base — are a bit stiff, though. Anderson … I don’t have anything to say about Anderson, really, except that in a few panels he reminded me of Sal Buscema, and that made me smile.

The art is the best thing about this book, but to be fair, any art better than Bart Sears on Captain America and the Falcon was going to be better than the writing. The plot is weak and wandering, the dialogue is straight from Unbearable Bendis Book #3, and people are mysterious about things for no apparent reason. I paid $5 for this, and I think I paid about $6 too much.

Rating: (0.5 of 5)