Andrew Tran Comic Reviews

Morrison handles the parallels between creator and creation wonderfully, as the Annihilator comes to represent death, existential despair, and the incontestable dominance of natural law. Or is it incontestable? The brilliant heart ofAnnihilator is the suggestion that through human artifice, this order can be reversed; things can come out of nothing, and one can pull heroes out of dreams for aid. The action is over-the-top but relatable, the art is inspired, and the writing contains the level of nuance and complexity we've all come to expect of Mr. Morrison.

The first issue sets the ground rules of the current situation effortlessly, without need for too much obviously-expositional dialogue, and brings some of the more bizarre implications of a virtual reality to the forefront immediately. It ends with tensions strung high between the virtual and real worlds, one left to rot in immortality in the uncanny valley while the latter rots from the ravages of a disease. And we also see a glimpse of our series' villain, a demon-shaped entity in Arcadia called only the Oxbow code, the implications of which, if you google the term, are downright awesome. Really, Arcadia is nothing short of intriguing so far, and there's little reason not to delve into the series if you're at all into meaningful thought experiments of the near-or-so future.

So are you, in all honesty, going to pick up issue #2?Are you kidding? I think I can find it in my wallet to spend four bucks finding out how Riverdale's finest stack up against an invisible, intergalactic trophy-hunter with a crab for a face. Yeah, I think I can stretch my personal economy enough to hear some good Jughead one-liners when the inevitable Predator un-masking scene finally happens. Granted, I've loved thePredator franchise since I was just a wee lad with a fetish for grotesque scifi beasties, but the bottom line remains–Archie crossovers can do a helluvalot worse than this.

Altogether, there's really not enough to inscribe this issue into a comic-shopper's memory, especially with such a glut of series' taking place in intergalactic settings, with giant robot attacks, with discriminated parties on the run, etc. etc., but who knows? The next issue could very well flesh out the ideas of the first in a more original manner. But the first does not.

This first issue pushes all the buttons a great first issue should: with scenes from Star Cops and Chondra's tarnished midlife, we're well-grounded in her character, and in Seeley's fascinating study on celebrity worship

Feathers didn't make the impression on me that I felt it could have, given some more convincing stakes and non-conventional exposition, but I can see people holding onto the series on the visual style and the promise of a grandiose tale about to unfold.

Footprints juggles enough unlikely elements to be an enjoyable read, and ends with quite a compelling premise on its hands. Its a B-movie, a crime thriller, an X-Files story arc, and a global conspiracy tale, all combined into one chimeric beast thats tough to explain, and tougher to look away from, even if the conventional elements drag.

Why, exactly, doesn't Groo get old for you?Who knows! It seems Sergio Aragones and Mark Evanier hit upon a formula too simple to fail. For around three decades now, Aragones has been drawing brilliant, cartoonishly terror-stricken faces, bustling village panoramas, postures of villagers in panicked flight, and he's gotten so impossiblygoodat it that these panels positively pop for me. These comics achieve a dynamic physicality that you associate with silent-era comedies and mime, and the brand of humor has an ageless charm that's completely devoid of posturing or cuteness. In short, it's very nearly slapstick genius.

Concretely, Injection #1 gives you precious little to go by"just snatches of a grander whole that will, judging by Warren Ellis' track record, surely coalesce into a jaw-dropper. Judging from his comments, the ultimate conflict will explore the ways in which current issues dovetail with recurring historical themes, and how global doom is impending, but visible only to the paranoid.

While the premise of man as monster and kaiju as hapless creature isn't anything new, the charm of both the art and the writing carry the new series very nicely, making this a great title to pick up if you can't wait for more Pacific Rim, or if you're looking for something lighthearted, yet not entirely fluffy.

Like I said in my review of issue #1, the magic of the series so far is in the details, from the kaiju contraband, to their specialized slang ("You don't know what I redking want") to names of the gangs (Crips = cryp(tids)s). It's positively dripping so far in kaiju lore, and you can just feel the love Cannon has for his subject matter. The writing is properly inspired ("We don't gotta be battling, using our special moves on each other, do we?"), the pace of the plot is spot-on so far, and most surprisingly, he's shown a lot of restraint with the monster showdowns. 'Cause, you know, if it was me, it'd be giant robo-mantis on mystic scythe-wielding raccoon action all day long.

But to see how Kaptara pans out as one flamboyant nerd's pipe dream isn't the reason I'm going to pick up Kaptara #2. It's the promo at the issue's back pages, promising a cat that is also a tank" This series is going to have its way, dammit, and it doesn't care if you're laughing at it the whole time. The fact that that same boldness also ties into Keith's character flaws tells me that Zdarsky and McLeod know what they're doing.

Excuse me for sounding jaded, but the circumstances of this line's delivery is the most bastardized, far-removed rendition I've yet seen of that infamous scene inNight of the Living Dead, the onewhere the little sick girl in the basement rises from her makeshift medical table and shuffles ominously over to her mother, too preoccupied with fear to notice the familial insurrection under her nose. While the original struck chords of fear in a generation so deliciously ripe for that destruction of the nuclear family,Memeticattempts something similar with the meme-addicted generation, but I'd wait a bit: our own tailor-made apocalypse is surely around the corner, and we needn't settle for this.

The book closes with a rescue from Nameless' clandestine clients, who inform him of the current doomsday scenario and enlist him in an effort to avert it. It looks like the next issue is headed to the dark side of the moon, undoubtedly to do battle with whatever amphibious, outsider entities dwell there, and all I can say is that it's good to be back into a Morrison book. How I've missed the scent of fishmen and sandalwood.

It's clear that Pisces wishes to reach for something more profound out there in the dark yonder, and I'm not at all doubting the value of the book's ideas to come, but that's precisely my annoyance with this first issue: there's nothing to grab hold of at present. In the absence of interviews and series descriptions, this first issue does little to reel a reader in.

In short, I'll take quiet Lemire over waxing-operatic Lemire any day of the week, if it means getting more work likePlutona. It's not going to change your destiny or anything, but it's definitely educational for anyone interested in effective sequential storytelling, or a good ol' fashioned ‘band of kids'-type tale, with a hero comics' spin on it.

What's surprising is that there's very little actual haunt or horror in this first issue, but the presentation and implications of the themes give you plenty to chew on, for an unsettlingly quiet start to a grand new story.

Lovecraft is effectively painted as an interloper with a passing interest and fascination with these old traditions and forces, and the story ends before we can see these themes mature. As the story stands, it has much to interest dedicated Corben fans, and those willing to see Lovecraft's proxy, Elwood, get his prejudices fed to him by a tentacled horror, but uninitiated readers might find the ending uneven and less than satisfactory. There is a datedness to Corben's storytelling, especially in the moment at which the past and present collide"it really smacks of plot twists found in the pages of Corben's earliest horror works and doesn't pack quite the punch today as it did then. That being said, as someone pretty invested in all things Lovecraft, Corben's pursuing an intriguing line of thought that both critiques and expands upon what makes the "L" word so mesmerizing.

Finally: is the series getting better or worse?It's getting better as we slowly watch Elwood lose his grip on notions of purity and self, and again, as the Lovecraftian elements begin to surface. Honestly, as I'm reading the book, much of my enjoyment is in Corben's grotesque/beautiful art, and I really can't wait for him to unleash with the tentacles and half-humans. Issue #2 ofRat God brings us closer to that point, but I have to include a heavy disclaimer–this series is basically only for dyed-in-the-wool fans of the genre, of old terrors and rotten mythologies. Otherwise, much of this can feel like dated storytelling and hackneyed elements to non-believers.

Writer Zac Gorman, known for his fantastic work in animation (Over the Garden Wall) and comics (Costume Quest) alike, has a steady grip on original creator Dan Harmon's vision and style of humor. The beating heart of Rick and Morty is a knowledge of, and critical disdain for, sci-fi tropes, from the metaphysical nonsenses of time to the logical conclusions of endowing animals with consciousness. Gorman and arist CJ Cannon nail the feel almost perfectly"the downcast look on Morty's face when Rick punctures his self-esteem, Jerry's pitiful cowering, it's all very uncanny. Thus, the comic is a welcome respite for fans enduring the interminable wait until Season 2 rolls around.

The style and overall aura ofRoche Limit is infectious, and while I'm not exactly gripping my seat wondering of Sonya will ever find Bekkah, I would love to see more of Alex Ford's Constantine-style antics. The main image drawing me back, though, is one tucked away in that prose epilogue--the fact that Skaargred is still on the Roche Limit, lost somewhere in his own failed Eden.

Secret Identities' debut isn't quite perfect, but there are definitely some aspects of the title that I wouldn't mind exploring. So far, it's succeeding more on the strength of its characters than with a cohesive plot or conflict, but there's lots of room for improvement.

This debut is big on presentation and mood, though slightly thin on raw narrative material. Writer/artist Lee Bermejo bends most of the panels towards hammering in what the Suiciders represent to this ruthlessly self-cleansing, self-effacing vision of Los Angeles, and the blood-anxious impulses at the beating heart of the dystopia's cultural center. His art style is gorgeous, filled-out, and grittily over-the-top enough to communicate his book's themes, while making sure his ruined LA doesn't stray too far from the city's current state. There isn't too much to indicate what direction the plot might move in next, aside from the Saint's backstory, which is a bit frustrating; instead of a first bite, we're given just a whiff of whatSuiciders is all about, but those interested in the book's topics, and of old-fashioned gladiatorial sci-fi, will find a ton to love.

Jonathan Hickman simply shows no sign of slowing down. Fans of East of West, Indiana Jones, or plain ol' dynamic action comics with a philosophy, should be clawing their way to a copy of The Dying and the Dead. The title embodies his trademark mixture of epic scales, iconic characters, and smart writing.

While I'm waiting on the post-apocalyptica deconstructionist comic of my dreams, we have a glut of comics like The Empty to read, all of them gleefully putting a match to the world just to watch the unique ways in which mankind will flounder in the ashes. But there's very little that's actually unique about the approach that The Empty takes"in fact, much of the comic feels like a checklist of the genre.

The climax of the issue puts plot and conflict on the backburner in favor of such a moment, which was less ‘OH WHAT' and more ‘Oh, hey… damn…,' making this definitely one of the more memorable first issues in recent memory.

After a midnight flight downriver to Squire Umbletons house, a gnarled old ram of a countryside gentleman, the gang attempts to a run to town by automobile with the gargantuan invader on their trail, a situation which lays a new conundrum at their feetto lead the thing to town would be disastrous, which leads them to a question for the next issue: how does one destroy a 4-story metal squid with two rifles and an old Model T auto?