Above Average Joe's Profile

Like many I was a bit wary of this run, given the success of both Aaron & Cates' previous adventures with Earth's beligured Sorcerer Supreme. More often than not these relaunches take the character back to zero and effectively cancel out the work of the previous creative team. This is not the case where Doctor Strange is concerned. Waid continues the theme that echoed through the previous volumes. Magic comes at a heavy cost, and to quote the MCU's version of Baron Mordo, "The bill comes due". Waid pulls some familar tropes and concepts together in a way that is more charming than blandly nostalgic. The prose manages to subtily but effectively highlight the pain and weight of Stange's faiding abilities. Stephen isn't just loosing magic, he's losing himself. This proves to be a perfect reason for the good Doctor to reluctantly seek the council of his fellow "Awesome Facial-Hair Bro", and the scene is a pefect mixture of whimsy and pathos. While the idea of a Sorcerer trapped in a world devoid of magic isn't exactly a groundbreaking reinvention, it nevertheless sets the stage to expand the potential of Doctor Strange's story and illustrates just how far he will go to fulfill his duty as Earth's defense against the dark.

An Essay on Magneto... Hero. Villian. Leader. Martyr. Magneto has been many things over the years, and yet one has stood above them all: A man. Flawed, driven by the courage of his convictions and constantly on the brink of an internal war that will eventually consume him. Bunn, a proven steward of Magneto, captures this conflict eloquently. We see Erik as a destroyer and a savior. A tyrant and a man on a futile quest for absolution. This is not to say that the issue is perfect. The dialog itself is drab compared to the inner musings of a Man who has been brought forward to see the scars he will leave on the world. The homage to The Terminator's timetravel visuals are placed well for audience members familar with the film. Without the context however it can easily play as unimaginative. The true success of this issue is how it captures the contradictory themes of hope and despair. In many ways, this issue is not just an essay on Mangeto but on the last several years of X-Men storytelling. Welcome to the future, Magneto. We hope you survive the experience.

Is it cold in here, or is it just me? Oh boy, Hell froze over and took Central City with it. The Rogues have won, and Captain Cold is calling the shots in this new Snow-Pocalypse. Honestly, the events of the issue aren't all that surprising. Underground resistance courtesy of the remaining Flash Family since Barry is MIA. The Rogues themselves are locked in a bit of a stalemate that sooner or later is going to crumbing into a chain of betrayals. All of this is merely backdrop to illustrate just how cold Leonard Snart has become. He's abandoned his code of honor and become a merciless tyrant with ice in his veins. Dire as the situation may be, something tells me that Snart's reign will be over in a Flash.

Sigh. I wish I could say my disappointment was anything other than expected. The idea is unoriginal, especially given the events of the last several years. The execution is lacking, with the most interesting revelations done in silence and shadow. Ivan's art plays well in these moments but I can't help feeling cheated of much-needed character interaction between Clark & Perry in favor of downright idiotic reasoning and bloated dialogue that does little more than remind the audience that Bendis obviously never watched Superman IV "why do i hide my identity?" Oh, gee. I don't know, maybe because Clark has a wife, a child, is the most prominent hero in the DC universe with a cavalcade of rogues who show no compunction about collateral damage. Clark is who he is, Superman is what he can do. That's a truism at the heart of the character that It's current steward either doesn't understand or doesn't care about. Good Lord, can someone please get Bendis off the Superbooks before it's too late?

Where do I begin? The Art that comes off as a downright garish knockoff of Amanda Connor's style; the bloated dialogue that uses 47 words where 12 will do or the nonsensical reasoning behind Clark's decision to reveal his identity? His son is gone, his father is dead (again) and his wife is living in a hotel away from what's left of her family and supposedly writing a story about...we don't know. Clark's going to give up the last bit of normality in his life. Why? This issue is a tangled mess of deliberately drawn out dialogue that culminates in a prologue that doesn't succeed in setting anything in motion. In short, The Truth hurts.

If you're looking for six issues of boring, needlessly convoluted storytelling, lackluster art and a downright disturbing amount of cringe-worthy characterization, look no further! True to form, Bendis delivers an ending that is more hurried exposition than resolution. Nothing is really solved in this issue, and the setup for the tales to follow leave the reader with a looming sense of "oh, this crao again" as opposed to anything resembling excitement. This book would charitably be described as bloated and ineffectual if not flat-out insulting to the litany of DC spy organizations that were wiped out only to be replaced with...whatever this was supposed to be. Bottom line, unless you're looking for the comic book equivalent of a traffic accident, steer clear of this mess.

Can Bendis just 'not'? Honest to god, this has got to be one of the laziest pieces of shit that I've read in some time. Just as bad if not worse than the whole of Leviathan, that's a lot bad to cram into a single issue. The big meeting between Naomi and Young Justice...happens off-panel. 11 issues of craziness and the team trying to get back home ends with them going right back to where this whole slog started. ...The only coherent thought that managed to break through the din of internal groaning was a resounding "YOU'VE GOT TO BE F#&%ING KIDDING ME!?" Is it possible to angrily turn off an iPad?