Broken Frontier

A friend of mine recently gave me the latest copy of “Wizard” after he finished reading it. Let me state for the record, I’m not a fan of the self-professed “Comics Magazine” and I never will be. Most of the time it’s impossible to distinguish the articles from the advertisements, and the almost exclusive focus on the top two companies is disappointing to say the least. But what can I say? I was bored, so I flipped through the pages like a drug addict smoking oak leaves in a desperate attempt to get high.

When I came to the article about the “super-hot” writer of the “Young Avengers” (in Wizard land, all DC and Marvel creators are super-hot, the comic-book equivalents of Leif Garrett and Andy Gibb), I decided to read it. I buy trade paperbacks exclusively, so I haven’t had a chance to read any of Allan Heinberg’s debut series yet. But I’ve heard really good things about it. And just because “Teen Beat” says he’s a groovy writer doesn’t mean he’s not.

The article was pure fluff, filled with illuminating lines like “Heinberg found himself going from fanboy to fan-favorite” and “the always hard to please old school fans... had to admit, this was something special.” I imagine Mike Cotton (the “Senior Staff Writer”) is in a bathroom somewhere trying to scrub off the brown stains from his nose, although after all this time he’s probably oblivious to the smell. Even so, I can’t wait to read the first TPB collection of “Young Avengers”. Nauseating pabulum or not, the fawning article only increased my desire to see if the story lives up to the hype.

There was one quote in the article that caught me off guard, though. In the final paragraph, Allan Heinberg says, “I’ve been told that there are no comic book critics, just guys who want your job. I know that’s true because that was me.” Heinberg is obviously excited over the opportunity to write a comic book series, and I’m sure he didn’t intend his comments to sound derogatory. But in a world where fans are often ridiculed or belittled because they’re foolish enough to be fans, that remark bothered me.

I still remember the hilarious episode of Saturday Night Live where William Shatner lost his cool and berated an audience of Star Trek groupies. It was one of the funniest things I’ve ever seen. After facing a barrage of increasingly bizarre questions, Shatner lets the Trekkers have it. “There's a whole world out there! When I was your age, I didn't watch television! I LIVED! So... move out of your parents’ basements! And get your own apartments and GROW THE HELL UP! I mean, it's just a TV show, damn it! IT'S JUST A TV SHOW!”

A few years later, it occurred to me that Shatner was making fun of the very people who had made him into a household name. He wasn’t given roles in “T.J. Hooker” or “Boston Legal” because of his alleged talent. He was offered those opportunities (and many others) because a core group of people thought Captain Kirk was the most wonderful hero that ever lived and convinced others that it was true. Yet he ridiculed his fans for the benefit of all of the people who DIDN’T think he was worth a crap.

How brave of Shatner to punish the only people that thought a bad actor could symbolize something noble and good.

Allan, you’re a cute guy, and I can’t wait to read the first arc of your series. But please be careful what you say. The reason most people criticize comic books isn’t because they secretly think they can do a better job. When someone pays three bucks for a 22-page comic strip, they are hoping to at least be mildly entertained. I don't think that’s too much to expect. John Byrne or Chuck Austen or a thousand other people can cry out, “It’s just a comic book, damn it!” But people paid to read it.

People paid to read it.

Please remember that.

I buy trade paperbacks. I pay money for them. I pay money that cost me a portion of my life to earn. And I pay it gladly, because I happen to like books 99.7% of Americans have never even heard of. If I have a problem with a series, it’s not because I think I could do it better. I can’t do it better. That’s why I pay money to read someone else’s work. But I don’t want to pay for something that sucks.

I understand all art forms are subjective. I also understand that if I pay for something that sucks, I don’t get my money back. I’m stuck with the suck. So if Marvel or DC wants to whine because I refuse to pretend life is nothing but a multi-covered issue of “Wizard”, don’t get pissed off when I beg to differ. When I receive all my Marvel hardcovers for free, I will praise them to the ends of the earth. But until then, I’m going to say exactly what I think.

Believe me, I’m going to let every single person I come in contact with know that “Countdown to Yet Another Crisis” kisses more monkey butt than “Wizard” magazine and “Avengers Discombobulated” should have portrayed established characters more consistently and resisted the cheap shock tactics. Readers deserve better than that.

I don’t want anyone’s job. I just want my money’s worth.

Which brings me (“Finally!” says the belligerent drunk man in the fourth row) to the subject of my latest “Book Marx”. I just read the fourth volume of the series I slammed a few months ago. And I am ecstatic to report that this time around, I got more than my money’s worth.

The original “Invincible” series was a light-hearted comedy about the son of a superhero. In the first few pages, we found out Mark Grayson was the only child of Omni-Man, an iconic champion modeled somewhat after Superman. Mark was working after school at the Burger Mart when he unintentionally launched a bag of garbage into space. His reaction? An exasperated “It’s about time.” Robert Kirkman’s tongue-in-cheek sense of humor, combined with Cory Walker’s crisp and clean illustrations, made “Invincible” one of the most intriguing and genuinely fun books to be published in ages. It wasn’t perfect, but then again, what series is?

Things started to change once the Guardians of the Globe appeared on the scene. A re-imagining of the Justice League almost as innovative as J. Michael Straczynski’s “Supreme Power” title, the Guardians were called together under mysterious circumstances, only to be brutally slaughtered by Mark’s father. Later issues would reveal the shocking truth: Omni-Man intended to enslave the world all along. It was a brilliant twist, but Kirkman fumbled the pass majorly.

The third collected volume of the series - “Invincible: Perfect Strangers” - was a disjointed mess. Scenes of graphic disemboweling were mixed with strained humor (an out-of-place riff on “Star Trek: Next Generation” that fell flat), inside jokes (a hilarious sequence that involved Mark meeting the creator of his favorite comic book), and long passages of exposition (Omni-Man took up SIXTEEN pages of narrative to explain to his son that he was a bad guy). Nothing fit. Every scene competed with the one before. If I hadn’t already pre-ordered the fourth trade paperback collection, I probably would have stopped reading the series right then.

Lucky for me, I did purchase the fourth volume. And I’ve survived long enough to tell others the tale.

For starters, the packaging of the fourth book is greatly improved. For $14.95 you get six issues of the monthly series and the eight-page story written for last year’s Free Comic Book Day anthology, a major value in my view. The cover illustration by Ryan Ottley is the best yet, and with Image’s much-appreciated decision to switch to glossy cardstock, Bill Crabtree’s colors pop out like firecrackers. As disappointed as I was with the third volume, “Invincible: Head of the Class” piqued my interest after only seeing the cover.

After reading it, I was puzzled. While repeating the statement that no comic book series can be perfect, this book came damn close. I actually went back and read “Perfect Strangers” again, thinking maybe I was too harsh or judgmental. I wasn’t. The book didn’t quite stink, but it wasn’t more than a push and a Richard Hatch cameo from the state of total stinkage.

So why was “Head of the Class” one of the most enjoyable books I’ve read this year?

For starters, Robert Kirkman has found his groove. The book is genuinely funny again. From a secret agent who’s addicted to teleportation to a wedding ceremony involving a giant fish and Mark in a dress, there’s a goofy joy here that’s been missing for a while. Even better, Kirkman doesn’t push too hard. Even in the most ridiculous situations, he let’s the humor speak for itself. It’s nice when a good writer trusts his instincts.

Kirkman has also figured out how to incorporate the harsher sides of life into the mix in a much more subtle and natural way than before. Immortal, who was murdered by Omni-Man before being resurrected by Mauler and his clone, confronts Mark and tells him, “I’ll be watching you.” Mark’s always tried to do what he thought was right, so he’s not exactly thrilled to realize his father’s betrayal has made his loyalties questionable in some people’s eyes. The scene lasts exactly one page, and yet it leaves an indelible mark on both Mark and the reader.

Things only get worse when his father’s confession is leaked to the media. Mark comes home to see his mother listening to Omni-Man effectively tell the world that he never loved his wife. It’s not surprising that she’s almost hysterical. Add an uncomfortable meeting with the Principal, a confrontation with his former employer, and the revelation that Eve is now dating his best friend, and it’s clear that things are a lot more difficult than before. But Kirkman manages to mix the laughs and the heartbreak together in a manner that flows beautifully.

The end of the first chapter truly demonstrates how much Kirkman has grown as a writer. He’s been talented from day one, but now he’s experienced enough to fully use that talent to his benefit. Mark comes home to find his mother sprawled on the kitchen floor. Naturally, he rushes to console her. “I had forgotten he was gone,” she says to him as tears streak down her face. “I was making dinner for three... for a minute I didn’t realize.” Mark holds her tenderly. “It’s okay, Mom. I’m here now.”

Then she says, “Why did you have to fight him, Mark? Why did you have to drive him away?”

It’s not often that I catch my breath when I’m reading a comic book. Her sorrow was so real, so raw, and so dangerous, it caught me completely unaware. There was nothing unrealistic about her reaction, but I’m not used to characters revealing such infinite sadness at such a price. Although she apologizes later for what she said (she uses the excuse that she had been drinking), it almost seems as if Mark has been betrayed by both of his parents.

Much worse, Mark admits that he too sometimes wonders if he’s to blame for his father leaving Earth. I doubt I’ll ever look at the third volume of “Invincible” favorably, but if Kirkman needed to write that to accomplish what he does in “Head of the Class”, then I’m glad he did it the way he did.

This book is damn good, and for a variety of reasons.

It’s classic soap opera fun. Amber suspects Mark is a drug dealer because he keeps disappearing. Mark’s mother meets the wife of another superhero and they form a tentative friendship, although she continues to drown her sorrows in alcohol any chance she gets. An alien invasion leaves the Earth in ruins and opens the door to future revelations. Eve breaks up with William, so will Mark stay with Amber or end up being Eve’s boy toy?

It’s superhero fun for the whole family. The first villain Mark ever fought reappears and ends up partnering with him against a cartel of powerful criminals that control everything from murders-for-hire to the unstoppable drug trade. Mark has to fight an army of Martians single-handedly to protect the crew of an American shuttle. A man named Angstrom Levy is hopping through dimensions, gathering an army of parallel Angstroms for an unknown future battle. There’s major darkness brewing around every imaginable corner.

It’s cliffhanger fun. There are hints that maybe Omni-Man isn’t the bad guy after all: someone shows up to defeat the alien invasion unseen and an investigator is “close to finding out” who really killed the Guardians of the Globe. The new head of the crime syndicate is infinitely more intriguing then the previous boss. Angstrom is going to be a major factor in upcoming events. There’s alien possession and alien deceptions waiting to destroy everything we hold dear.

And the artwork is simply extraordinary. I liked Cory Walker’s art, but Ryan Ottley blows me away. He gives each character a unique look, fills every panel with emotion and excitement, and exceeds every script demand Kirkman places on him. Bill Crabtree is one of the best colorists I’ve ever seen. He is the perfect accent to Kirkman and Ottley’s hard work. This is one of the best-looking books on the market right now.

Personally, I’m glad this fourth volume is so wonderful. I don’t want to pay good money for books I don’t enjoy. I want to sing the praises of the various comic books I like, even if I end up sounding like a “Wizard” columnist.

I have never met Robert Kirkman in my life. I also have never met Josh Howard, Brian Michael Bendis, Mark Millar, Alan Moore, Kazu Kibuishi, J. Michael Straczynski, Brian K. Vaughan, Sean McKeever, or any of the many other comic book writers that I respect and willingly pay money to support. But whether I’m standing face to face with them or thousands of miles away typing on a computer in the middle of nowhere, my response will always be the same. I’m going to praise and encourage them when they deserve it (which is most of the time). And I’m going to call them out when they drop the ball.

I don’t want to write comic books. I want to read them.

Robert Kirkman gave me more than I paid for this time around. I think that’s pretty cool. I hope the same thing holds true for volume five. And I hope Allan Heinberg’s series is as good as I’m thinking it will be.

But either way, I’m going to talk about it. I paid for that right.

I paid them for that right.

- Tommy Marx