Broken Frontier

Something terrible is coming. Heroes will die, galaxies will crumble, and nothing will remain the same after Annihilation.

A wave of annihilation is swarming through galactic systems, leaving little more than destruction in its wake. It must be cataclysmic indeed—Death finds it "wonderful," and Thanos the Mad Titan, who once threatened to destroy the whole universe, is intrigued. But no one else in its path is as nonchalant; certainly not those in The Crunch, the maximum security facility near the Klyn moons, who can barely put up a fight and are left with only their prayers before they are all blown away. And certainly not the Nova Corps, the intergalactic security force that exists to deal with just this sort of crisis but gets hit even harder than the Crunch, and is, well, annihilated, save one, the man known on Earth as Nova. Once Annihilation Day comes and passes, all those in its path become aware that something is coming, but they have no idea of its true nature, and know even less about how to stop it. That’s just as well, as it may already be too late.

Two admissions. First, Marvel’s cosmic comics were some of the first comics I ever read. Most of what I read went over my head, but characters like Captain Marvel, Warlock, and especially Thanos still fascinate me now as they did then, and it wasn’t until I read Philip K. Dick that my mind was as blown as when I first read Jim Starlin. Second, I am not Keith Giffen’s biggest fan. Well, both the cosmic end of the Marvel Universe as well as Keith Giffen are back in a big way, and the results aren’t good.

Giffen’s script opens and ends well. The exchange between Thanos and Death, though short and with just a few words exchanged, hits exactly the right note and effectively sets up the rest of the story. The conclusion, more of an "Ah hah!" moment than a cliffhanger, works because the reveal (who/what the annihilator is) comes as a surprise but makes complete sense. I won’t spoil who it is, but will only say that he’s always been a bad-ass and is an even bigger one now, the sort that the likes of Thanos and Galactus will have to take seriously.

But as much as I liked the beginning and end of Annihilation: Prologue, the middle suffers from a lack of focus. The plotting itself is quite compelling, though, and one can imagine how killer it must’ve sounded in a pitch meeting. That’s a shame, because the uneven, at times lethargic pacing and bloated dialogue sap most of the story of whatever promise and vitality it must’ve had in the planning stages. This is odd, as the other recent Giffen offerings I’ve read, while not to my liking, at least read at a snappier pace. But as with everything I’ve read of his of late, Giffen has no ear for dialogue. Towards the middle, just when the drama and action should be heating up, reading his dialogue approached drudgery, my frustration with these rambling dull spots only tempered by the assurance that something, anything, was about to blow up soon. Giffen is everywhere these days, and while his comeback is to be lauded, finishing Annihilation: Prologue one can’t help but wonder if he’s spreading himself too thin, electing to produce lots of mediocre scripts instead of focusing on a few good ones.

Like the script, the artwork opens and finishes with strength. Much of the middle, however, fails to impress. With too few exceptions, the work of Scott Kolins and Ariel Olivetti is flat and uninspired, lacking visual drama. They get many of the fundamentals right, anatomy and proportions, for instance, but a story like this needs art that knocks our socks off. But what we get instead of opera is something that’s more pulp, and the feeling that this story is bigger than anyone can imagine is lost. The cover by Gabriele Dell’Otto is astounding, however, and we can only imagine how impressive Annihilation: Prologue would have been were its paged graced by his lovely but powerful painted images.

Lastly, as both the writing and the artwork drop the ball in many respects, one has to wonder how or why a cosmic opera on this scale does not involve Jim Starlin, whose influence on Marvel’s cosmic universe will never be matched or surpassed. Thus far, Annihilation screams for both his words and his images, and is poorer for not having either.

Truly a disappointment, if Annihilation: Prologue is the ground floor for the next year of cosmic stories, then what the House of Ideas has built is stuck in the sand.