Showing posts with label Dave Stewart. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Dave Stewart. Show all posts

Sunday, February 07, 2010

Putting the Super Back in Superbowl Sunday



DC Comics Presents Superman #1, by Stan Lee, Paul Levitz, Darwyn Cooke, J. Bone, Al Milgrom, Dave Stewart, Jared K. Fletcher, Ken Lopez, and Lovern Kindzierski

Continuing the Superbowl Sunday tradition I kicked off (heh heh) with my reviews of NFL Superpro #3 and Strange Sports Stories, I'm pleased to review DC Comics Presents Superman #1, a football-oriented comic book remembering the dearly departed Julius Schwartz's impact on the medium. In this issue, a dream team of writers and artists tells two tales inspired by the Schwartz-helmed cover of Superman #264 originally illustrated by Nick Cardy.



Firstly, Stan Lee, Darwyn Cooke, and J. Bone tell the story of Professor Harold Gorky, who, fed up with society's glorification of muscleheads like superstar quarterback Tank Torgan and charitable-guest referree Superman, creates an invisible robotic football player to best them both in the field and win the heart of his secretary Tiffany. He succeeds, and when Superman gets to the bottom of things, he decides no punishment is better for the borderline mad professor than letting him win the vapid vixen of his dreams. Darwyn and Bone's definitively retro art is the perfect compliment to Lee's cooky script, creating a nostalgic yarn that respects the power of the mind -- in the midst of a game that celebrates getting one's skull bashed in.



The second story is pretty heavy by comparison, as a washed up football player ups his dose of experimental steroids to become an energy-crackling juggernaut, but fortunately Superman is in the neighborhood and uses his cosmic treadmill to run the wayward runner's energy out. Levitz and Giffen tell an engaging tale, with campy Silver Age staples that shine under an otherwise potentially dark fable about faded glory. I suppose any of us are just a washed up career away from becoming the phantom quarterback.

In conclusion, Wanda Sykes mentioned me on her Fox talk show last night, describing folks like me that watch the Superbowl for the commercials "like someone that orders pizza for the box." Hey, the game itself is really just one long commercial for spandex-clad team-ups . . . and we comic books geeks certainly understand that.

Monday, November 10, 2008

What Could Have Been: Tom Strong #20

What a difference a week makes.

Last Monday, skeptical Americans, on the brink of an undoubtedly historical Presidential election, wondered about the fate of their country. A week later, Americans either celebrating a victory or lamenting a loss can still be proud that their nation has made a giant step forward in abolishing its reputation for racism, perhaps setting a standard for the rest of the world. That's how I see it, anyway.

The question is, did Barack Obama win because of the Dragon bump? Pundits will argue that one for the next four years, I'm sure . . .

To acknowledge America's celebration of change, I decided to read a few of the comic books in my stable of unread issues that star black protagonists -- a theme I've traditionally utilized in February for Black History Month, but black history has been made this month, so the obligatory wait would be a disservice. My hope in these next few reviews is to find some parallels between the black heroes of comics and our President Elect, who has become a real life hero to many, many people (and who has now starred in a few comics of his own!). Leave it to Alan Moore to kick off the concept with practically prophetic results.

When the Comic Bookie closed last month, I was delighted to find several issues of Tom Strong in the fifty cent bins. Tom Strong remains one of those series I regret not buying monthly, yet also remains a guilty pleasure when I flip through discounted back issue boxes, as it isn't foremost on my mind but always climbs the must-buy list when I find a cheap issue. With all the publicity surrounding the release of The Watchmen movie, Moore's other works are likely to take a backseat in these coming months, until of course each of them are optioned for film production, too. I dare say that Tom Strong is one of the writer's most ambitious works, though, with thirty-six issues spanning eight years (the longest Moore has been associated with any one character or story, with the exception of Swamp Thing, unless someone can cite another example). Reflecting, sometimes satirizing, the science fiction pulp of the '50s, Tom Strong also combines strands from almost every other significant comic book genre, as well (western, romance, horror . . . it's all in there, sometimes in a single issue!), utilizing flashback sequences and/or chapter breaks liberally yet with reverence. Again, why I still haven't read every issue is beyond me.

Tom's origin is perhaps the most interesting contribution to the entire series, however, as Moore successfully tells a complex, engaging origin story with striking originality. When scientist Sinclair Strong and his wife Susan are shipwrecked on a deserted island, Strong makes the best of it by building a laboratory where he and his wife raise their son in a high-gravity chamber, educating him and nourishing him with an indigenous root, goloka, in a culminating effort to perfect his mind and body. When a volcanic eruption destroys the lab and kills Tom's parents, Tom finds comfort in the local, hidden tribe, and he takes a bride who eventually joins him on a journey back to Millennium City, where he becomes a science hero. Of course, fans know there are many more critical intricacies to this story, but these are the nuts and bolts necessary to understand issue #20.

See, in issue #20, Tom encounters a visitor from an alternate timeline, one where his origins are vastly different. Apparently, when one of Susan's pre-Sinclair suitors gives her an element capable of dividing time, she does just that, creating a history that prematurely kills Strong and strands her on the island with Tomas Stone, their ship's Jamaican (?) captain. When Tom Stone is born, he attains the same longevity and strength from the island's beloved goloka and learns vicariously through Sinclair's stranded books, essentially becoming the same man from the original timestream, but with darker skin. In Millennium City, this alienation actually builds a bridge of camaraderie with the one that would become his mad scientist arch nemesis, and together they become a force for good. However, Susan soon discovers the timeline's split, and . . . ha, to be continued. Surely a tale with such chronological consequence couldn't be told in a single issue, eh!

So, what does all of this have to do with Barack Obama? Well, Moore pens a prolific line that reminded me of the Illinois Senator's recent accomplishments. When Tom's mother sees how beloved her son is in Millennium City, she muses, "And everyone's so friendly to colored people now. You must have educated them, son." The implication stands, that the positive impact of a single individual with a high enough profile could redirect the perspective toward an entire group of people. Racism certainly isn't over, in either our reality or Strong's alternate history I'm sure, but racists can at least tangibly grasp that they're in the minority, that they're in the wake of something much more progressive than their rooted and anchored beliefs. Thankfully, we didn't need a skewered timeline to teach us that.

Yet, this catalyst in Tom Strong #20 is what appealed to me most of all. A week ago, Americans were like-minded in their contemplation of another reality, one in which their candidate of choice didn't win -- an Earth-2, if you will. How exciting is it that those that aren't into comics or science fiction can understand the Doc Brown concept of an alternate timeline? In this other world, how many of your friends really moved to Canada when McCain-2 won the election? How did his spending freeze affect the economy-2? Most interestingly, how soon did Palin-2 take the White House, if at all? I'm hoping to discover some traits in black comic book heroes that reflect our reality now, the one with Barack Obama poised as America's President, but Alan Moore turns racism on its ear a bit and shows us that sometimes the color of one's skin does matter, just enough.

Tom Strong #20 was published by America's Best Comics in June 2003 and was written by Alan Moore, illustrated by Jerry Ordway and Karl Story, colored by Dave Stewart, lettered by Todd Klein, and edited by Kristy Quinn and Scott Dunbier.

Saturday, March 15, 2008

Beware the Creeper #2


Beware the Creeper #2, July 2003, Vertigo/DC Comics
writer: Jason Hall
artist: Cliff Chiang
colorist: Dave Stewart
letterer: John Workman
assistant editor: Zachary Rau
editor: Will Dennis

Blogger's note: Entry for Friday, March 14, 2008.

I’ve come to the conclusion that I’ll read anything Cliff Chiang draws. I became a fan during his run on Vertigo’s The Human Target, which was already then and still is today at the top of my favorite series. In The Human Target, Chiang (and fellow rotating artist Javier Pulido) were challenged to balance protagonist Christopher Chance’s internal struggles of identity with his external adventures of sociopolitical intrigue and espionage. Needless to say, both artists rose to the challenge, but while Pulido’s art was a bit more minimalist, Chiang’s work was very substantial and down to earth. I’ve managed to acquire some of his contributions to the Batman books since then, and his brushstroke consistently captures the grace of the superhuman form with the solidity of their respective environments. Chance’s Los Angeles, Batman’s Gotham -- in under Chiang’s pen, they’re viable characters as much as the real characters are.

So, you can imagine how I’d feel about the cover on Beware the Creeper #2. On it, a new, feminine Creeper stands tall over the Paris skyline. I don’t know much about the Creeper, nor have I ever been to Paris, but both are now inviting thanks to this absolute visual interpretation.
If only the story were as easy to behold. This issue is the second of a five issue miniseries, and I must have missed the fluid introduction of its significant players, because this chapter proceeds full throttle. The opening act is entertaining enough, as the Creeper creeps into a museum and steals the Arbogast family jewels, only to toss them in the river. What follows is a multi-scene diatribe about the Arbogasts’ terrible reign over Paris, a veritable anarchist discourse about class warfare and everyman vigilantism. The Creeper is perceived as one part terrorist, one part performance artist, praised by the likes of Andre Breton and Tsuguharu Foujita. (Ernest Hemingway, Pablo Picasso, and Gertrude Stein also make cameo appearances, all in good measure.) If writer Jason Hall’s intent was to establish the Creeper’s legacy as a kooky monkey wrench in historical, global affairs, I consider his mission accomplished.

The real mystery seems to be in who the Creeper actually is; since I don’t know if her secret identity was established in the first issue, I’m torn here between one of two sisters (of course each boasting an opposing side of the political argument, thus each boasting their own legitimate motives for vigilantism) and a little girl with a fascination for the creepy heroine. The little girl has the same reddish hair as this new Creeper, so I’m wondering if the artists intended this as a red herring (pardon the pun) or a genuine clue. Either way, through this re-establishment of the Creeper’s character, she has inadvertently become a thrilling and capable heroine. Her body is totally garbed, and her figure isn’t cookie-cut by comics’ usually outrageous proportions. What I’m saying is, she isn’t overtly sexual, and the allure isn’t about who she is, but what she’s about -- a message I wish more stories about heroines emphasized.

So, yes, I would dare say you should beware the Creeper. The fact that I can’t tell which of the prominent female figures she really is in this issue implies that every woman has a little Creeper inside of them. Further, if all of them were as eye-catching as this version by Cliff Chiang, you’d never see the danger coming. I guess that’s what creeping is all about.