Weekly Haul: The Return of Bruce Wayne #1, Savage Dragon #160, The Sword #24

This week commemorated new beginnings and bittersweet endings for many of my favorite comic book characters, most notably including Bruce Wayne in the highly anticipated Batman: The Return of Bruce Wayne. I confess, I didn't read "Final Crisis," and if you didn't, either, we can both share in the general knowledge that the story supposedly ended with Batman's death by Darkseid's Omega beam -- and the general ignorance of whatever that means. Apparently, Bruce Wayne wasn't killed, just sent back in time, where he's now destined to fight his way back to the present. In this first issue, he mumbles and stumbles his way through Vandal Savage's tyrannical reign over primitive man, harnessing the superstition of a bat-god and recruiting a faithful sidekick along the way. It's a relatively straightforward tale by Grant Morrison standards, beautifully choreographed by Chris Sprouse. In my opinion, Sprouse succeeds in the heroic chin department, from his depiction of the Midnighter, to Tom Strong, now to Batman. The Morrison formula rings true, almost to a fault in such an anticipated storyline: supposedly, according to a time-jumping Justice League, if Batman makes it back to the 21st century on his own, "Everyone dies." Morrison used this motif in JLA many times: if the heroes win, they really lose, and in this case, we can only imagine what kind of cosmic ju-ju hangs in the balance of the Dark Knight's return. The proof is in the pudding, though; we know Bruce Wayne will return, hence the title of the series, so the fun isn't in the destination, but the journey.



Savage Dragon #160 concludes the six-part "Dragon War" story arc, with the now evil Dragon fighting his worst enemies, infused with his blood and powers. The past few issues have had Dragon eating easily besting his foes and eating his doppelganger's brains, and this issue really isn't that different, but the action is all kinds of bloody fun. The only significant development is Dragon sparing his children's lives -- this time -- despite the anticipation for their inevitable, potentially fatal confrontation. Despite the absence of plot in favor of unadulterated violence, the lingering questions is, what happens next? The lack of development results in endless possibility, a tool Larsen uses in his favor. Consider me a hopeless fin-addict.



This week's most bittersweet issue is The Sword #24, the series conclusion. I've been following this series from the beginning, a remarkable two-year run that inspired me to find the Luna Brothers' other works, including Ultra and Girls. This is their most impressive story to date, one I hesitate to summarize because I highly recommend it. I will say, The Sword is the perfect modern mythology, exploiting the timeless power of words and our inherent need to feel in control despite the circumstances against us. Dara is one of the most durable characters in comics, in more ways than one, and her journey is one of tragedy and victory and tragedy again. Despite her fantastical circumstances, we wonder if we wouldn't do the same thing in her place, and we both envy and feel sorry for her. You could almost say it's a double-edged sword.

That's this week, in a nutshell. Solemn endings and exciting beginnings -- thanks to the engaging mythos of comics.

Girls #10

Girls #10, February 2006, Image Comics
by Joshua and Jonathan Luna

This St. Patrick’s Day, men across the country, perhaps even around the world, will take to the streets in search of forbidden treasure. No, I’m not talking about a leprechaun’s pot of gold at the end of the rainbow . . . I’m talking about the affections of a woman. Sure, chugging green beer has become a holiday tradition (though the practice really offers no real insight into Irish culture), but some three or four beers into the evening, St. Patrick’s Day becomes just another night at the bar, and therefore just another attempt to score a woman’s phone number, or more. Is this why St. Patrick’s Day lands within Women’s History Month? To remind us that, even on a day where heavy drinking is encouraged and celebrated, women are more than potential treasures to be scored and spent?

The torrid universal relationship between men and women has become a perpetual subplot in all of comicdom, and no one comic book has gone to such great lengths to draw the line in the sand as much as the Luna Brothers’ Girls. I mentioned yesterday that I’d read Girls #1 before, in the Image First compilation, and I really enjoyed the Lunas’ use of candor and raw (albeit drunken -- sigh, those libations will be the death of us men) emotion to establish conflict and the cast of characters in their rural setting of Pennystown. Nine issues later, the plights of these diverse personalities have taken a distinctly different turn; whereas before these townsfolk merely sought to pass away their idle lives in Midwestern bliss, they now strive simply to survive . . . against an odd army of freshly hatched, naked, flesh-eating women. Yes, you read that right.

In this issue, a majority of Pennystown’s (which isn’t really a lot) have congregated and sheltered themselves in a secluded mansion. Unfortunately, the youngest children have recklessly wandered outside into the surrounding forest, and a brave group decides to search of them. The kids are found but only when a gang of the naked women emerge from the wood, and the survivors rush back to the mansion with those flesh-hungry chicks practically nipping at their heels. In the house, the power goes out, and the folks inside scramble to gather a flashlight and some weapons as they hear their friends hastily return. The Luna Brothers’ ability to infuse this climactic scene with a palpable sense of suspense is brilliant and impressive, as the second to last page is simply a series of black panels and frightened dialogue, proving that a horror comic can really accomplish a lot with a little.

Of course, this issue’s fright factor is laced with relationship-ridden subplots, but trying to summarize them here wouldn’t do them justice. It’s enough that these core characters are pursued by freshly hatched, naked, flesh-eating women, right?

Needless to say, although I don’t know the ultimate outcome of this series, I can safely assume that the Lunas managed to spin the zombie genre on its ear with Girls. Rather than terrorize their simple townsfolk with decrepit undead, they unleashed a band of beautiful women, and while these ladies are obviously much easier to look at, they aren’t any less ruthless in their methods or madness. Women often claim that men are shallow in their attraction to pure physicality, but what if this physicality could be harnessed as a weapon? What if those moments of paralysis at the sight of beautiful and surprisingly naked woman were all those women needed to feast and survive? Wouldn’t our superficiality become a valuable asset? Of course, I know plenty of chicks that really do use their looks to score a free meal, just not one of flesh, so maybe the Lunas weren’t too far off with this potentially allegorical tale of gender-based horror and romance.

Indeed, from the recent ethereal dissolution of Spider-man’s marriage in One More Day to the likes of introspective independent artists like Jeffery Brown, such romantic inclinations are often the most grounding elements throughout any genre of comicdom. While the average fanboy cannot train his mind and body to the pinnacle of human perfection like Batman, they can at least relate to his inability to commit to any one woman . . . or maybe envy it. Similarly, older readers can appreciate the complexities more stable relationships like the Storms’ or Wally and Linda Wests’ offer. From fawning over Lana in Smallville to the classic love triangle from Superman tales of old, readers could revel that even the Man of Steel gets butterflies in his stomach around the special little lady. Hey, maybe you’ve never been pursued by freshly hatched, naked, flesh-eating women, but you’ve broken up with a girlfriend before, right? You’ve thought you were flirting with a girl only to learn that her intentions were strictly platonic? In this context, what does a series like Girls teach us?

Men, beware. They can be more than they appear to be. You’re better off looking for that leprechaun. That little guy’s almost more believable than the concept of the perfect woman . . . at least when you’re looking through the bottom of a bottle.

Ultra #7

Ultra #7, February 2005, Image Comics
by Joshua & Jonathan Luna

For as many comic books liter our apartment on any given day, nearly as many tabloids and magazines are scattered about, as well. My girlfriend loves ‘em. She buys those rags weekly as faithfully as I visit the comic book store. So, when I threw Ultra #7 onto a pile of her just-reads earlier today, I almost couldn’t tell it apart. The cover of the Luna Brothers’ Ultra #7 mimics the cover of a People Magazine, and while I’ve seen comics try to satirize other print media before, this is the best example of subtle effectiveness. Further, since Ultra’s title character is caught in the crosshairs of a sex scandal in and around this issue, the motif fits perfectly. It isn’t just a sales gimmick . . . like most pictures on the covers of those real magazines.

What do I mean? Well, I have a fanboy goal to collect every comic book appearance of Cloak and Dagger. Now, is there a teenybopper somewhere with similar ambitions to collect every tabloid appearance of Britney, or Lindsay? I mean, does Britney deserve the cover of these weekly magazines for shortchanging a gas station attendant, or something? At this point, it’s like giving Aunt May the cover for baking Peter a pie. It always happens, yet it only really appeals to a fraction of that title’s core readership. It’s a sales gimmick -- an attempt to remain relevant. But I digress.

I picked up Ultra #7 several weeks ago with the intention of including in this week’s Women’s History Month series, because my brief experience with the Luna Brothers’ work has led me to conclude that they are extremely capable of capturing the female condition in any supernatural context. For instance, their most recent series, The Sword, is a fine balance of science fiction and twenty-something strife; the reader experiences the lead character’s frustration and disbelief right along with her. The single issue of Girls I’d read before (the second issue will come tomorrow) was a memorable look at relationships through a similar lens of dark fantasy. So, when I picked up Ultra #7, its cover not withstanding, I had some high hopes about its story.

Boy, were those high hopes ever met.

Ultra #7 is the perfect issue for a new reader like me, as it effectively concludes an obvious integral storyline and focuses more on its eclectic cast’s relationships. After recovering from an arsonist’s attack, which cost the lives of many innocents, Ultra’s public image continues to suffer thanks to the release of a compromising picture. At first, this controversy affects her arrival to the 77th Annual Superhero Awards -- a brilliant enough concept in itself -- until a fan reminds the condemning crowd of Ultra’s selflessness. Though Ultra doesn’t win the Best Superheroine award, her associate Cowgirl does, and during an after party, the two share a tender moment that implies a romantic overtone to their relationship. To the Lunas’ credit, the sequence isn’t overtly homosexual as it is tragically romantic -- their relationship isn’t necessarily forbidden because of social taboo, but because of its potential interference in their respective heroic careers. If only everyone with power felt such noble restraint when it came to their romantic urges.

No, Ultra has nothing to do with former Governor Spitzer. I’m just saying.

What I don’t know how to articulate is an adequate description of Jonathan Luna’s artwork. His characters appear almost photographic in appearance, with such a natural grace and expressionism that one almost forgets he’s actually reading a comic book. Every panel is practically cinematic in scope, with character blocking and background effects working together to establish and reflect the mood of the characters’ dialogue. The line work is crisp, the colors are effective and dynamic. ‘Nuff said.

Of all of the issues I’ve read so far this week, Ultra strikes me as the best example of depicting strong women in comics. At least in this chapter, these superheroines aren’t facing archnemeses, but rather their own roles in society. In the face of controversy, scandal, and conflicting romantic emotions, these women still emerge as powerful, competent protagonists -- not victims to desperation, but determined to resolve their respective plights only so that they can continue to contribute to the betterment of said society. If only the young starlets that graced the covers of real tabloids adopted the same mentality . . . How much better would the world be, if only in the quality of our entertainment?