What if you could get super powers for Christmas? No, I don't mean the '80s toy line (though that would still be pretty cool), but rather real-life super powers, distributed by a fringe scientific laboratory specializing in nano-technology? Enter the Power & Glory Holiday Special. In it, Plex/Biomatrix, the organization responsible for giving the world a real superhero in A-pex, "the American Powerhouse," raffles off an opportunity to be a similar superhero for a week, and just our luck, a religious fanatic wins. Only in America!
If that doesn't say "Christmas" enough, Epiphany St. McMiracle (yes, that's her name) leads the First Church of the Internet -- I wonder if its high holy holiday is Cyber Monday -- and after a week's worth of temple-constructing (which beats the old car wash method of raising building funds!), she decides to skip the powering-down process and keep her new abilities . . . like we couldn't see that coming. Just like a spoiled brat on Christmas morn, she refuses to share, and the token fight between her and corporate vigilante Michael Gorski ensues. Fortunately, the scientists that created the super nano-bots weren't dumb enough to overlook the need for a fail safe -- a clever little lyric that disbands McMiracle's molecular structure for good. It's definitely the "ew" moment of the season.
I've never read Power & Glory before, so I can't tell if the tone of its holiday special is the norm for this series (or if I understand the characters' role correctly), but I rather enjoyed the heavy context of this issue's story in contrast to its light-hearted, even satirical tone. From Plex/Biomatrix's marketing of the super-lottery, to the page interviewing celebrities on what they'd do with powers (Nixon's is the best: "If I were super, I'd still be here."), to Gorski's pontifications on the dangers of religion -- this issue tackles a topic world-shattering in proportion and boils it down to social commentary and superhero spectacle, all with an air of holiday cheer. And while there's nothing overtly Christmas about the whole thing, the pomp in contrast to this story's circumstance is enough to maintain a semblance of good cheer even in the midst of potential cyber-religious terrorism.
So, what's the moral of this little holiday parable? Well, super powers are only half of what makes a super hero, of course. I mean, geez, it's already over three weeks after Christmas, and how many of your new toys have you broken, lost, or exchanged for store credit? (I've almost lost my new mp3 player twice!) How responsible would any of us be with flight, or super strength? Keep the power . . . it's not worth the glory!
Power & Glory Holiday Special was published in December 1994 by Malibu Comics and was written and illustrated by Howard Chaykin, lettered by Ken Bruzenak, and colored by Bu' Tones.
Showing posts with label Malibu Comics. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Malibu Comics. Show all posts
Sunday, January 11, 2009
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
Prime #2
Prime #2, July 1993, Malibu Comics
writers: Gerard Jones & Len Strazewski
artist: Norm Breyfogle
letterer: Tim Eldred
colorist: Keith Conroy
editor: Chris Ulm
Blogger's note: Entry for Sunday, February 24, 2008.
In the context of reading and reviewing a different issue from a different series every day for a year, I thought that revisiting a few titles from A Comic A Day: Year One would be a refreshing opportunity to further explore some of the stories or concepts I experienced during that first exciting 365-day analysis. Unfortunately, this sophomore effort hasn't been as liberating as I'd hoped; first of all, I read many of these comic books over a year ago, and assuming I've read well over a thousand comics since then (combining my A Comic A Day reads with my personal monthly purchases, not to mention everything else I've read lately), I can't even remember some of these titles' most important details. Of course I remembered that Shatter billed itself "the first computerized comic," but until I read my old review I'd forgotten its inclusion of RNA-oriented crime or its coincidental connection to Utopiates. I guess even alternate versions of the future can be lost in the annals of the past.
When I recently found Prime #2 in a four-for-a-buck back issue bin, I was excited for the chance to re-review this Norm Breyfogle vehicle. I've said it plenty of times before: I'm a huge Norm Breyfogle fan, and, to summarize, I feel that this runs on Detective Comics and Batman are the most underwritten in the caped crusader's crowd of contributors. Breyfogle pencilled Detective on the heels of The Dark Knight Returns' unprecedented success, then moved to Batman in the thick of the Tim Burton film franchise. In the midst of this mainstream success, his interpretation of the Batman family never wavered from honoring their comic book roots, and Breyfogle's art flourished into a style that suited the '90s-era dynamic duo. So, when I looked up my review of Prime #1, I expected to find it lavished with such fanboy praise.
How could I remember that I had just flipped through The Dark Age: Grim, Great & Gimmicky Post-Modern Comics by Mark Voger which documented the crossover-ridden, kill-'em-off mentality that began with Crisis on Infinite Earths? Who would've thought that I'd compare the work of one of my top ten favorite artists (hm, a list I should compile someday) to one of my least favorite trends in comics? Ah, therein lies another lesson about reading a comic a day, young ones: one's reviews are often susceptible to other daily media influences, like the news, talk radio (see Saturday's Leo Laporte reference), and entertainment. Indeed, these stimuli could even overshadow fanboy adoration, like mine for Breyfogle.
So, did this influence extend to my second impression of Prime? No, I really didn't liken Prime #2 to its "grim 'n gritty" peers of the early 1990s. Instead, this issue's plot reminded me more of the early 1960s, specifically the Stan Lee movement to ground fantastic superhero characters with a pedestrian, even awkward civilian identity. Ben Grimm, Peter Parker, and Matt Murdock all had very tangible flaws, either physical or emotional, and in the case of Prime's alter ego, Kevin Green, his brute strength in one persona is matched only by his social inadequacies as the other. Kevin is pure Peter Parker, even willing a Hulk-like transformation into Prime to impress, and inevitably put in harm's way, the girl he likes. Waiting for Prime to ping their radar, the shadow agency tracking him unleashes Organism 8, a toothy blob that manages to capture our musclebound hero. The darkest part of this entire issue is Kevin's adolescent angst and his inability to gauge the consequences of his actions. If that's what makes for grim 'n grit, we all through that Deathblow stage in our lives.
What I'm saying is, this issue really didn't offer anything new to the strata of comics. It's a fairly entertaining read, but so is the dozens of other series or characters that follow the same pattern. Essentially, Prime is Peter Parker-meets-Billy Batson that turns into the Hulk-meets-Captain Marvel. Prime's slimy origin is perhaps the only distinguishing feature within the realm of the story (unless it takes a Captain America/government secret soldier spin); on the other hand, Norm Breyfogle's art is the only compelling contribution in the issue's overall presentation. Gratefully, the writers didn't attempt to infuse scenes about Kevin's awkwardness with campy '90s dialogue; the high school sequence is in fact almost timeless in its presentation, as if Lee and Ditko had composed it themselves. The only reason I have to pick up more issues of Prime is to finally complete my Breyfogle collection.
Perhaps that's the irony of the A Comic A Day challenge. Coming up with a new thought to write about a series might be as difficult as implementing an idea for one.
writers: Gerard Jones & Len Strazewski
artist: Norm Breyfogle
letterer: Tim Eldred
colorist: Keith Conroy
editor: Chris Ulm
Blogger's note: Entry for Sunday, February 24, 2008.
In the context of reading and reviewing a different issue from a different series every day for a year, I thought that revisiting a few titles from A Comic A Day: Year One would be a refreshing opportunity to further explore some of the stories or concepts I experienced during that first exciting 365-day analysis. Unfortunately, this sophomore effort hasn't been as liberating as I'd hoped; first of all, I read many of these comic books over a year ago, and assuming I've read well over a thousand comics since then (combining my A Comic A Day reads with my personal monthly purchases, not to mention everything else I've read lately), I can't even remember some of these titles' most important details. Of course I remembered that Shatter billed itself "the first computerized comic," but until I read my old review I'd forgotten its inclusion of RNA-oriented crime or its coincidental connection to Utopiates. I guess even alternate versions of the future can be lost in the annals of the past.
When I recently found Prime #2 in a four-for-a-buck back issue bin, I was excited for the chance to re-review this Norm Breyfogle vehicle. I've said it plenty of times before: I'm a huge Norm Breyfogle fan, and, to summarize, I feel that this runs on Detective Comics and Batman are the most underwritten in the caped crusader's crowd of contributors. Breyfogle pencilled Detective on the heels of The Dark Knight Returns' unprecedented success, then moved to Batman in the thick of the Tim Burton film franchise. In the midst of this mainstream success, his interpretation of the Batman family never wavered from honoring their comic book roots, and Breyfogle's art flourished into a style that suited the '90s-era dynamic duo. So, when I looked up my review of Prime #1, I expected to find it lavished with such fanboy praise.
How could I remember that I had just flipped through The Dark Age: Grim, Great & Gimmicky Post-Modern Comics by Mark Voger which documented the crossover-ridden, kill-'em-off mentality that began with Crisis on Infinite Earths? Who would've thought that I'd compare the work of one of my top ten favorite artists (hm, a list I should compile someday) to one of my least favorite trends in comics? Ah, therein lies another lesson about reading a comic a day, young ones: one's reviews are often susceptible to other daily media influences, like the news, talk radio (see Saturday's Leo Laporte reference), and entertainment. Indeed, these stimuli could even overshadow fanboy adoration, like mine for Breyfogle.
So, did this influence extend to my second impression of Prime? No, I really didn't liken Prime #2 to its "grim 'n gritty" peers of the early 1990s. Instead, this issue's plot reminded me more of the early 1960s, specifically the Stan Lee movement to ground fantastic superhero characters with a pedestrian, even awkward civilian identity. Ben Grimm, Peter Parker, and Matt Murdock all had very tangible flaws, either physical or emotional, and in the case of Prime's alter ego, Kevin Green, his brute strength in one persona is matched only by his social inadequacies as the other. Kevin is pure Peter Parker, even willing a Hulk-like transformation into Prime to impress, and inevitably put in harm's way, the girl he likes. Waiting for Prime to ping their radar, the shadow agency tracking him unleashes Organism 8, a toothy blob that manages to capture our musclebound hero. The darkest part of this entire issue is Kevin's adolescent angst and his inability to gauge the consequences of his actions. If that's what makes for grim 'n grit, we all through that Deathblow stage in our lives.
What I'm saying is, this issue really didn't offer anything new to the strata of comics. It's a fairly entertaining read, but so is the dozens of other series or characters that follow the same pattern. Essentially, Prime is Peter Parker-meets-Billy Batson that turns into the Hulk-meets-Captain Marvel. Prime's slimy origin is perhaps the only distinguishing feature within the realm of the story (unless it takes a Captain America/government secret soldier spin); on the other hand, Norm Breyfogle's art is the only compelling contribution in the issue's overall presentation. Gratefully, the writers didn't attempt to infuse scenes about Kevin's awkwardness with campy '90s dialogue; the high school sequence is in fact almost timeless in its presentation, as if Lee and Ditko had composed it themselves. The only reason I have to pick up more issues of Prime is to finally complete my Breyfogle collection.
Perhaps that's the irony of the A Comic A Day challenge. Coming up with a new thought to write about a series might be as difficult as implementing an idea for one.
Sunday, January 20, 2008
Rust #1
Rust #1, April 1992, Adventure Comics
writer/colorist: Steve Miller
penciller: Phillip Hester
inker: Ande Parks
letterer: Joseph Allen
editor: Dan Danko
EIC: Chris Ulm
Blogger's note: Entry for Friday, January 18, 2008.
Sometimes you have to wonder what's going to stick.
As I was reading Rust #1, and thinking about how I would summarize its story in a few simple sentences, I couldn't help but recognize its similarities to another creator-owned series published around the same time. Consider, in Rust, a straight-laced cop is caught in a horrific accident and presumed dead; however, when he comes back to life, he finds himself terribly disfigured and his wife in the arms of his best friend. Therefore, he does what anyone would do in such a tragic situation: he begins to live off the streets, embracing his peculiar powers and becoming something of a hobo hero.
Sound familiar? Yes, replace "cop" with "soldier," and you're remarkably close to Todd McFarlane's ground-breaking Spawn. Interestingly, an ad for Spawn graces Rust's inside back cover, as if the publishers were trying to say, "If you liked this comic, you're sure to like this one, too." Of course, if that really was their meaning, we now where their good intentions landed them. Again, with two titles orbiting similar premises, sometimes you have to wonder what's going to stick.
Of course, Rust boasts some notable differences from Spawn. For example, though this title offers a new origin for Miller's title character, it isn't Rust's first appearance. Miller is careful to document his hero's previous appearances in a thorough back page bibliography. Rust was originally published by Now Comics and experienced two short lives volumes before the company declared bankruptcy in 1991 and Miller, with Malibu Comics' help (Adventure's parent company), won back the rights to his character. The inclusion of this "Collector's Guide" is an interesting choice considering Miller's adamant introduction proclaiming, "To those who have met Scott Baker before, forget what you know." Hard to do that when every previous issue is summarized after this new lead story, eh?
Still, Rust's latest incarnation offers interesting, unique quirks that create a definitive take on the "resurrected civil servant" shtick. For example, Officer Baker didn't really die but was actually comatose while a liquid rust fused his skin with junkyard metal, under the suspiciously knowing, watchful eye of the yard's resident Junkman. Also, the kiss Rust happened to catch between his wife and best friend Jerry was an accidental one, shared only in a moment of mutual grief. Miller is sure to have Jerry tell Mrs. Baker, "Oh, wait. I just kissed you because I wanted you to feel better . . . I do love you, but not like that." I'm glad I don't have friends like that! Still, when Rust inevitably encounters Jerry later in the series, the reader will have the whole story and will know that Baker's anger is unfounded, instilling a flaw in his still-tragic heroism.
Makes you wonder, is every disfigured hero destined to spy his loved ones denouncing him through his living room window? Spawn, Rust, even the ever-lovin', blue-eyed Thing -- these guys didn't buy blinds when they had the human hands to hang them? But I digress . . .
Finally, Rust boasts an early collaboration of Phillip Hester and Ande Parks, who later achieved acclaim under Kevin Smith's Green Arrow. I don't know when Hester and Parks began their careers, though I have enjoyed a fair share of their solo efforts before, but a combination of elements here betrays the blossoming maturity of their work, from Miller's coloring to the issue's overall production value. Stark black and white might have been a better choice to emphasize mood and make their angular visuals really pop, or if not then crisper color separations . . . even those slicker pages that became all the rage in the early '90s might've helped. Instead, if I hadn't seen this issue's publication date, I might've assumed Rust was originally circulated in the mid-'80s. Well, actually, it was, but perhaps this newer version had yet to shake free a few of those lingering ghosts.
Yet, as first issues go, I enjoyed Rust. I was grateful to know that Miller was starting me off on the ground floor, as he put it, and that he had a long-standing passion for the character. Hester and Parks' potential was brewing under those unavoidable visual flaws, and in some panels their heights were already achieved. Rust as a character is a sympathetic hero, mired in an archetype but still interesting as the personification of America's industrial wreckage. If Miller tried another go at him, I wonder if Officer Baker would be covered in old iPhone parts. Still, caught in the shadow of the more popular Spawn, it's best that Rust remains in the annals of back issue bins. There, he can be rediscovered, and with the benefit of time behind him, earn nostalgic acclaim . . . and his name.
writer/colorist: Steve Miller
penciller: Phillip Hester
inker: Ande Parks
letterer: Joseph Allen
editor: Dan Danko
EIC: Chris Ulm
Blogger's note: Entry for Friday, January 18, 2008.
Sometimes you have to wonder what's going to stick.
As I was reading Rust #1, and thinking about how I would summarize its story in a few simple sentences, I couldn't help but recognize its similarities to another creator-owned series published around the same time. Consider, in Rust, a straight-laced cop is caught in a horrific accident and presumed dead; however, when he comes back to life, he finds himself terribly disfigured and his wife in the arms of his best friend. Therefore, he does what anyone would do in such a tragic situation: he begins to live off the streets, embracing his peculiar powers and becoming something of a hobo hero.
Sound familiar? Yes, replace "cop" with "soldier," and you're remarkably close to Todd McFarlane's ground-breaking Spawn. Interestingly, an ad for Spawn graces Rust's inside back cover, as if the publishers were trying to say, "If you liked this comic, you're sure to like this one, too." Of course, if that really was their meaning, we now where their good intentions landed them. Again, with two titles orbiting similar premises, sometimes you have to wonder what's going to stick.
Of course, Rust boasts some notable differences from Spawn. For example, though this title offers a new origin for Miller's title character, it isn't Rust's first appearance. Miller is careful to document his hero's previous appearances in a thorough back page bibliography. Rust was originally published by Now Comics and experienced two short lives volumes before the company declared bankruptcy in 1991 and Miller, with Malibu Comics' help (Adventure's parent company), won back the rights to his character. The inclusion of this "Collector's Guide" is an interesting choice considering Miller's adamant introduction proclaiming, "To those who have met Scott Baker before, forget what you know." Hard to do that when every previous issue is summarized after this new lead story, eh?
Still, Rust's latest incarnation offers interesting, unique quirks that create a definitive take on the "resurrected civil servant" shtick. For example, Officer Baker didn't really die but was actually comatose while a liquid rust fused his skin with junkyard metal, under the suspiciously knowing, watchful eye of the yard's resident Junkman. Also, the kiss Rust happened to catch between his wife and best friend Jerry was an accidental one, shared only in a moment of mutual grief. Miller is sure to have Jerry tell Mrs. Baker, "Oh, wait. I just kissed you because I wanted you to feel better . . . I do love you, but not like that." I'm glad I don't have friends like that! Still, when Rust inevitably encounters Jerry later in the series, the reader will have the whole story and will know that Baker's anger is unfounded, instilling a flaw in his still-tragic heroism.
Makes you wonder, is every disfigured hero destined to spy his loved ones denouncing him through his living room window? Spawn, Rust, even the ever-lovin', blue-eyed Thing -- these guys didn't buy blinds when they had the human hands to hang them? But I digress . . .
Finally, Rust boasts an early collaboration of Phillip Hester and Ande Parks, who later achieved acclaim under Kevin Smith's Green Arrow. I don't know when Hester and Parks began their careers, though I have enjoyed a fair share of their solo efforts before, but a combination of elements here betrays the blossoming maturity of their work, from Miller's coloring to the issue's overall production value. Stark black and white might have been a better choice to emphasize mood and make their angular visuals really pop, or if not then crisper color separations . . . even those slicker pages that became all the rage in the early '90s might've helped. Instead, if I hadn't seen this issue's publication date, I might've assumed Rust was originally circulated in the mid-'80s. Well, actually, it was, but perhaps this newer version had yet to shake free a few of those lingering ghosts.
Yet, as first issues go, I enjoyed Rust. I was grateful to know that Miller was starting me off on the ground floor, as he put it, and that he had a long-standing passion for the character. Hester and Parks' potential was brewing under those unavoidable visual flaws, and in some panels their heights were already achieved. Rust as a character is a sympathetic hero, mired in an archetype but still interesting as the personification of America's industrial wreckage. If Miller tried another go at him, I wonder if Officer Baker would be covered in old iPhone parts. Still, caught in the shadow of the more popular Spawn, it's best that Rust remains in the annals of back issue bins. There, he can be rediscovered, and with the benefit of time behind him, earn nostalgic acclaim . . . and his name.
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