(Shame to see such a beautiful cover wasted on this piss-poor issue)
Batman #681
Written by Grant Morrison
Art by Tony Daniel
Inks by Sandu Florea
Colors by Guy Major
Letters by Jared K. Fletcher
Published by DC Comics
In a nutshell: superb art, fucking disastrous script.
One of the things that makes Batman such a fascinating character is that he’s human. He’s got no superpowers, just highly-trained body and mind. He’s not capable of lifting a car or running at lightspeed. All that he’s capable of doing, he had to practice to exhaustion, and still he’s limited by his own humanity, making him vulnerable and therefore more interesting.
And here’s Grant Morrison’s Batman benchpressing his way out of a coffin buried beneath six hundred pounds of loose soil (after casually getting rid of a straitjacket and dealing with the locks) and switching two cups full of liquid in the time it takes for one to blink. So, as far as I’m concerned, Morrison can stick his version of Batman up his self-important arse.
Apparently, it wasn’t enough that the plot sucked. I mean, a villain who claims to be Batman’s father? Seriously? Has Morrison reached a point where he’s getting inspiration from Star Wars to write BATMAN? And as if THAT wasn’t enough, the Black Glove – as the villain calls himself -, is one of these sophisticated villains who talks as if he has a theather audience in front of him, making sure every line of dialogue is solemn and – most importantly – staggeringly stupid.
The Joker at least shines for a small moment, when he uses a “box” to metaphor Batman’s methods, but Morrison proceeds to drop Joker from the plot in the most ridiculous, casual way possible – the one character who was actually interesting in “Batman RIP”. Well, at least the writer didn’t KILL Joker as I feared he would.
Problem is, Morrison kills Batman – not the character, but his essence. Not even Frank Miller – known for his badass heroes and for having gone completely nuts recently – has gone as far as Morrison has in this issue (at least not that I know of): Batman simply pushes his way out of a coffin. Just like that. And the writer makes SURE to add this line, just to make it all more absurd: “Benchpressing a pine coffin lid through 600 pounds of loose soil that’s filling your mouth, crushing your lungs flat and shredding your dehydrated muscles? That’s harder. But far from impossible.” Sure. One can also breathe in space if he concentrates hard enough, you know. Morrison should have gone further and added, “BECAUSE I’M THE GODDAMN BATMAN”. And this is far from being the only example of “super-batman” in this issue: apparently, Bruce Wayne is also capable of carrying antidotes to all the poisons in the world in his chest pocket, and switching two cups full of liquid… in the time… it takes… for one… to blink… for fuck’s… sake. And to think Morrison constantly mocks Miller – well, I’m sorry to break it to you, Grant: as crazy as he is now, Miller has been more important to comics than YOU will ever be. So stop talking out of your arse and let the man do his Batman vs. Al Qaeda book – who knows, it might turn out – against all odds, I have to admit – to be truly interesting. As unlikely as that sounds.
All right, all right – I don’t really BELIEVE a book called “Holy Terror, Batman!” will mean Frank Miller’s return to form. Quite the contrary, actually. But fuck it, the point is Morrison has no room to talk about Miller judging from this ridiculous issue. Moving on…
While Morrison’s busy jerking off to himself, Tony Daniel really does a great job in the art. Helped by Sandu Florea’s meticulous inking and Guy Major’s excellent color scheme (I like the black, white and red in the flashbacks, even if the flashbacks themselves are ridiculous), Daniel nails most facial expressions and the characters. Jezebel Jet is truly beautiful (WAY more beautiful than Andy Kubert’s version) and the Joker always looks raving mad. Daniel’s only fault is on the pages Batman shows up in a big panel, since the artist insists on making his cape billow around him unrealistically – instead of looking badass, it actually looks pretty funny, like there’s a fan blowing right behind Batman.
It’s sad to see such a great character having his greatest aspects anally raped by a writer who considers himself more talented than he actually is. The more I read Grant Morrison’s work, the more convinced I am he’s the most overrated creator of his generation.
(An uninspired cover to an uninspired issue)
The Walking Dead #55
Written by Robert Kirkman
Art by Charlie Adlard
Grey Tones by Cliff Rathburn
Letters by Rus Wooton
Published by Image Comics
In a nutshell: too many pages wasted with bullshit we already knew, and a cliffhanger that manages to lack any impact due to how obvious it is a cheap attempt to shock.
About a fourth of this issue revolves around a dream Rick has, in which he feels guilty for failing to protect his family. After that, more than a fourth of it revolves around Rick talking on the phone with his dead wife, who he feels guilty for not having been able to protect.
Yes. Alright. I fucking get it.
How much longer is Kirkman going to hammer this into our minds? “Rick feels guilty, Rick feels guilty, Rick feels really fucking guilty”, yes yes we know time to see how the other characters are doing. However, Kirkman neglects the other characters, which is why the final page is completely unexpected, but not in a good way. Instead of feeling like something truly sad, it feels like Kirkman’s desperate to cause some shock on the reader, and simply flushes a character down the toilet out of nowhere. The one new thing this issue adds is a zombie that is weak and apparently sick – nothing mind-blowing in the slightest.
Even the dialogue Rick has with his dead wife – usually interesting – turns out to be just more of the same. “You’re dead, right? You’re not real blah blah blah”. That’s been so used in recent issues that her death is losing its impact. In fact, this whole series is starting to decline horribly. I already mentioned the ridiculous coincidences in previous episodes, and while issue 54 gave me a glimpse of how great Walking Dead usually is, this one just tripped and fell face down in dogshit. It’s a quick read, and most of it is wasted with obvious plot elements that have been developed enough already. Which is not to say there aren’t some good lines (“I guess I’ve convinced myself” is the one clever moment in Rick’s conversation with his wife), but overall it’s mediocre.
Charlie Adlard’s art is efficient as usual, with the same great visual narrative and shadowing. In fact, it’s the only thing besides the title that makes me remember I’m reading a “The Walking Dead” issue at all. Cliff Rathburn’s grey tones, similarly, are good and Rus Wooton’s lettering is clear and sharp.
I truly hope this series gets back up. I didn’t read fifty excellent issues just to be let down now.
(Shame to see such a great issue with this absolutely horrible cover)
Unknown Soldier #2
Written by Joshua Dysart
Art by Alberto Ponticelli
Colors by Oscar Celestini
Lettering by Clem Robins
Published by DC/Vertigo
In a nutshell: Warren Ellis sums it up perfectly on the cover of this issue: “This is an immensely brave, ruthless and intelligent piece of work. You need to read it.” I second that.
This is what I want to see in comics. Mature writing that packs a truly good punch about something revelant. Garth Ennis – a writer that, as you probably know by now, I can’t praise enough – wrote a phenomenal mini-series long ago called “Unknown Soldier” – about a nameless, faceless soldier who single-handedly kept alive everything that was wrong with the USA from World War Two to present days. Now, it’s up to Joshua Dysart to bring the character back, lived by a different protagonist and in a different setting: Northern Uganda.
In the previous issue, main character Lwanga Moses lost it and carved up his own face trying to shut up a voice he kept hearing in his head and that made him brutally kill armed children. Now, under the care of a nun and with his face completely bandaged, he tries to understand what turned him into a murderer out of nowhere – and how to go back to his wife, Sera, who’s in a village far from him unaware of what happened. But while that’s the main plot, Dysart cleverly deviates from it in order to introduce the environment where it happens. The scene in which kids find an unconscious Lwanga Moses is incredibly uneasy – not only due to the ever-disturbing sight of a child with a machinegun, but also to how he uses it to intimidate his friends. And this issue brings one of the most powerful lines I’ve had the pleasure of reading in comics as of late: when Lwanga listens to a kid telling him how she got a scar and lost her sister, he thinks “I can never get over the ‘matter-of-fact’ way children in the North tell their stories.” In fact, dialogue is something Joshua Dysart seems to be talented with (“I’m a lover sans frontieres, baby”).
While Dysart nails the nature of the place this story happens in, he also treats the Unknown Soldier with the necessary respect and fascination – dedicating half of a page to a panel where we see Lwanga Moses’ bandaged face for the first time. There’s also a good deal of mystery – who is the voice in Moses’ head? And what are the flashbacks he glimpses?
Alberto Ponticelli’s art is far from being as good as Killian Plunkett’s (from Ennis’ mini-series), but it’s still efficient and clear. A little too sketchy for its own good, but certainly sharper than in the previous issue, wherein Lwanga Moses’ destroyed face was drawn in such a simplified way it lost most of its impact. Oscar Celestini’s colors also lack a more complex scheme, but they work. And Clem Robins’ lettering is flawless – it’s really hard to criticize the guy who lettered “Preacher”.
“Unknown Soldier #2″ is powerful, promising and highly recommended. Vertigo is easily the greatest comics imprint of all-time, and I’m glad to be reading it again after a long time (although I hear Andy Diggle’s run on Hellblazer is being really good – I might check it out).
Posted by andrenavarro 
Posted by andrenavarro 
Posted by andrenavarro 
