Filed under: Exquisite Reviews | Tags: Angela, kieron gillen, Marguerite Bennet, Phil Jiminez, Romulo Fajardo, Stephanie Hans, Tom Palmer
Written by Kieron Gillen (Main Story, Substory) and Marguerite Bennet (Substory)
Pencils by Phil Jiminez (Main Story)
Inks by Tom Palmer (Main Story)
Colours by Romulo Fajardo (Main Story)
Art by Stephanie Hans (Substory)
Published by Marvel
The most terrifying warrior in the 10 Realms is out on her own. Angela, Loki and Thor’s lost sister, has a job to do. Whether or not anyone stands in her way is irrelevant.
The first solo outing for Angela since stepping across to the Marvel universe couldn’t be in better hands. Gillen’s instinctive, cellular level love for the Asgardian characters shines through from the start here and the book instantly sets it’s stall out as another entry in Marvel’s narrative heavy Asgardian books. Following on both from Gillen’s run on Journey into Mystery and the criminally overlooked Immonen-scripted Sif run that followed it, it feels like the third perspective in a thematic trilogy. Loki’s story explored Asgard from the underbelly, Sif’s from the inside and now with Angela, we see it from the outside. Not so much Three Colours Red as Three Colours Blood Red Oh God She’s Killing Me, if you like.
The action here, especially the sequences handled by Jiminez, is exactly what it needs to be. Angela is almost contemptuously brutal in the way she dispatches people and that effortless violence is very much on display here. Her costume’s still so far beyond ludicrous it defies belief but the action helps with that. She’s so relentless, so effortless that you focus more on the outcome of her actions and less on the fact she’s still dressed like it’s the early 1990s. Plus there’s a fantastic gag about her semi-sentient war ribbons. Jiminez gives the action in particular the combination of fluidity and weight it needs. His character work is excellent too, especially on Angela’s friend Sera. Sera is going to be your favourite character, she’s already mine. Smart, sarcastic, just a little flawed and the dose of normality to Angela’s war ribbony fury, Sera narrates not only the story but the substory. This is also where Bennet and Hans come in and where the book truly takes off. Hans work iis dense with lush colours and constant threat. The script is far more fluid here and the narrator freely and delightfully unreliable. The substory establishes the book’s overall plot, sets up Angela and Sera’s relationship and gives Gillen, Bennett and Hans a chance to cut loose in pages that are as beautiful as they are savage. It’s the beating heart of the book and the chest it’s been ripped out of is still warm.
This is my first experience of reading Angela in the Marvel universe and I had some concerns going in. She’s an artefact of a different time and place and in the wrong hands that would kill the book dead. In the right hands, as it is here, it’s a rousing, bloody success. Angela’s back, get out of the way.
Filed under: Exquisite Reviews | Tags: alan moore, Alastor, Avatar, Bones, Cherub, Digikore Studios, facundo percio, Gabriel Andrade, Ganesh, German Erramouspe, German Nobile, Glycon, God is Dead, Hernan Cabrera, Ifrit, jonathan hickman, Justin Jordan, Kamadhenu, kieron gillen, Kurt Hathaway, Mike Costa, Pan, Rafael Ortiz, Satan, Simon Spurrier
‘Arts & Letters’
Written by Mike Costa
Art by Rafael Ortiz
Colours by Hernan Cabrera
Written by Simon Spurrier
Art by Gabriel Andrade
Colours by Digikore Studios
‘Grandeur & Monstrosity’
Written by Alan Moore
Art by Facundo Percio
Colours by Hernan Cabrera
‘The Great God Pan’
Written by Justin Jordan
Art by German Erramouspe
Colours by Digikore Studios
‘Alastor: Hell’s Executioner’
Written by Kieron Gillen
Painted by German Nobile
All letters by Kurt Hathaway
God is Dead is, quietly, becoming one of the most interesting series being printed right now. The initial run, which I reviewed over here, is often flawed but ends in absolutely the last place you’d expect and has a welcome jet black streak of humour to it. It’s a book whose narrative trajectory is closer to US series drama than normal comic paths. It’s still finding its feet and when it does? First Bones Christmas episode time, baby.
(The first Bones Christmas episode is one of the single most perfect hours of TV ever produced and the point where the series absolutely clicks. It’s actually pretty inspiring to watch as well being insanely sweet, featuring one of the best jokes in the show’s history and also being a fantastically good Christmas episode. Go, watch it, be festivized then come back and read this magnificently horrific book.)
This two part anthology takes the series a huge step forwards, by and large, by ignoring the central plot. The idea here is much simpler; the gods have risen, the world is ending and as it does everything is going to get untidy, frantic, surreal and most of all, messy. Armageddon isn’t a full stop or a period, it’s a run on sentence that careens over a cliff, yelling at you as it goes. Done wrong that could make for dull comics. Done right, as it categorically is here, it’s remarkably good fun.
Let’s start with ‘Pitter Patter’, Si SPurrier’s story about just why cherubs are so angry. It’s a glorious parade of creative profanity, mixed with a little smattering of art history and some very nicely executed physical comedy. Spurrier excels at this sort of story and this is him on absolutely top form. The last page in particular is a fantastically dark punchline to the story and reminds the characters, and the readers, that the truly dangerous gods are self-aware enough to use their limitations as weapons. Andrade’s art is great too, focusing on the exact sort of naturalistic character work the story calls for. Likewise Digikore’s deep, atmospheric colour work.
‘Arts & Letters’ by Mike Costa is the only story to run across the two issues and absolutely deserves the extra space. The hook alone makes it worthwhile; Ganesh summoning an Ifrit to investigate the murder of Kamadhenu, the Great Cow of Plenty. Again, it shows what God is Dead does best; mixing the petty desires of the gods with the traditions and histories that both define and imprison them. It’s an oddly cheerful story, despite the hideous violence at the centre of it and serves as a neat companion to the Spurrier piece, both exploring the different ways the gods make peace with their limitations.
‘Alastor: Hell’s Executioner’ is the funniest story in the books by a mile. Gillen excels at this sort of comedy and mixes his deep love for the absurd with the adventures of a Blackadder-esque Hell resident who seizes an opportunity with both horns. Again, this is a story that’s ultimately about the status quo but Gillen finds a very different perspective on it. Hell’s residents, for all their railing against Heaven, are still carrying wounds from the Fall. Mistakes were made and learned from and Alastor’s position in Hell is as much about educating his compatriots as it is defending Hell from them. Again, it shows how the gods are similar to humanity but this is the story where that hits home most effectively. Nobile’s painted artwork also deserves special mention for the boundless creativity shown in Hell’s residents and the blood-soaked Terry Thomas air it gives Alastor.
Justin Jordan’s ‘The Great God Pan’ is the most conventional horror piece in here and as a result, oddly, one of the most effective. This is the story that focuses on the human cost of the gods and their return and it’s the darkest, most serious story of the lot. There’s no humanity, no frailty to the gods here just a single burning need to exist, by any means necessary. Digikore again do great, blood-soaked work on the colours and Erramouspe’s art is character driven, kinetic and brutal.
And then there’s the Alan Moore piece, ‘Grandeur & Monstrosity’. Not only is it a highlight of the book but it’s amongst the best work Moore’s done in the last ten years. It features Moore, in the God is Dead universe, reluctantly giving a lecture to the assembled gods about Glycon. Glycon is the snake deity that Moore has declared he worships and is an unusually well documented constructed god. Using a Glycon puppet, Moore lectures his audiences, both us and the Gods, about the nature of constructed faith, the need to believe in something and how the very act of forgery hides something true and devotional. It’s an astonishing piece of writing, showing a light comedy tough and a fiercely engaged, brutally honest intellect. Moore doesn’t judge here, he simply points out the absurdity in both his own beliefs and those of everyone else. It’s the magician pulling the curtain back, showing us the trick’s workings and letting us decide if we’re still entertained or not. It’s brilliant, honest, sad and very, very funny and you need to buy the book just for this story.
God is Dead is a series still learning it’s shape and that’s used here to create some genuinely brilliant comics. Blood, sex, laughter and horror all orbit these stories, and their gods, at very close range but what you really take away is the sheer intelligence of everything here. Complex, bloody, brilliant stuff.
Filed under: Exquisite Reviews | Tags: Dark Angel, Dietrich Smith, kieron gillen, Mephisto, Ruth Redmond, Shevaun Haldane, VC's Clayton Cowles
Written BY Kieron Gillen
Art by Dietrich Smith
Colour art by Ruth Redmond
Letters by VC’s Clayton Cowles
Published by Marvel
I have two reviews of this book for you. The first is this; it’s great and completely British in a way very few comics manage to be, and you should buy it because that may encourage them to launch an ongoing series featuring Shevaun Haldane and her slightly rubbish psychic mate Doris investigating supernatural doings in the Marvel universe.
The longer version is this. The first reboot out of the stocks for Revolutionary War, Dark Angel follows Shevaun Haldane, the daughter of one of the founders of Mys-Tech. Shevaun gained Silver Surfer level powers as part of her father’s deal and, for a while, was one of the most powerful superhumans on the planet.
But we live in an age of austerity, and even Hell needed to make cutbacks.
Now, her powers strictly budgeted, Shevaun is a combination errand woman, enforcer and nurse for Mephisto. She has just enough power to service her father’s never ending debt, and lives a life that’s equal parts Hell’s Intern and endless TV boxed sets.
As this issue opens, she comes round after being knocked out at the end of Revolutionary War Alpha. There’s a trail of destruction leading down the hill, a hole in the side of the manor where she lives and her friend Doris wants to know if there’s anything she can do to help.
What follows is a two level story. On the surface it’s a fast paced, breezy superheroine comic with a razor sharp visual wit. Smith’s got a rock solid eye for character and his precise, tight style helps the fantastical elements of the book really pop. Plus the fact Mephisto has a pair of loafers next to his hospital bed is just all shades of brilliant. The story builds to a nice payoff that connects it to what we saw initially, advances the plot for the series and clearly starts the reboot process too. It’s deftly written, action and character heavy and fun as hell. Literally.
Underneath that, though, is something really quite extraordinary. Gillen’s been cheerfully up front about this being him channelling his inner Pat Mills, and that’s certainly true. This is a very British comic, everything from the countryside to the names, and it gives the whole thing a welcome change of tone.
It also hides the fact that Marvel have, in Dark Angel, the logical replacement to Hellblazer.
The entire set up here; Shevaun and Doris fighting occult crime, is one step away from Hellblazer. Shevaun’s far more willing to throw an energy blast than a quip but the character dynamic between her and Doris is vintage Hellblazer. She’s an occult specialist with years of experience, most of it bad and a burning need to do more. Her mate’s a local medium who knows everyone, does the people stuff and is extremely handy in a fight when called upon to be. Seriously, all it needs is for Doris to drive a cab in her spare time and it’s there.
Joking aside, this is a really important thematic decision, and it’s one that Gillen really drives home. The austerity measures put in place by the British government are mirrored in Hell whilst the A&E that Shevaun takes Doris to at one point is in the process of being shut down. This isn’t a comic mindlessly aping or reflecting its surroundings, this is a comic actively using the events of the time to make itself better. That’s not just clever writing, that’s brilliant, satirical, necessary writing of a sort we’ve not seen since Hellbla That’s not just clever writing, that’s brilliant, satirical, necessary writing of a sort we’ve not seen since Hellblazer closed its doors.
It’s not just the script showing this level of wit either. Smith constantly uses Shevaun’s magnificently ‘90s hair (shaved down one side) to emphasize the duality of her character whilst Redmond uses texture and shape as well as shading to give Shevaun’s powers, and the Hellish locations, a wonderfully granular sense of weight. Cowles’ lettering rounds the whole thing off effortlessly, especially with the way Mephisto is presented and the whole book feels confident, smart and tightly planned.
I’ve always loved these characters but Revolutionary War really is off to a flying start here. The creative team not only honour the past but set things up for what looks like a very exciting future that does something no other active Marvel title comes close to. That doesn’t just make this a fun book, it makes it an essential on and hopefully the start of something much, much bigger.
Filed under: Exquisite Reviews | Tags: 364 BC, Clayton Cowles, Damar, Helot, Jordie Bellaire, kieron gillen, Klaros, Professor Stephen Hodgkinson, Sparta, Spartan, Terpander
Written by Kieron Gillen
Art by Ryan Kelly
Colours by Jordie Bellaire
Lettering by Clayton Cowles
Historical Consultation by Professor Stephen Hodgkinson
Published by Image
Helots were the lowest of the low in Sparta, state owned people who could, and were, used as hunting practice by the sons of the Spartans. Their lives were worthless except to define the Spartans’ ‘heroism’, culling them once a year like animals.
In 364 BC, three Helots fought back.
Gillen’s script is as pared back as they come, introducing the violence of the Spartans first, then Klaros, Damar and Terpander, his leads. Klaros is competent, sullen and crippled. Damar is calm, intelligent and overlooked. Terpander talks for a living and as a result has no idea when to shut up. All three are cowed, all three Helots and all three are about to have their lives changed forever.
The Spartans are monsters here, eyes and cloaks and huge helmets. Their violence is so total as to be almost abstract at first and the terror their arrival brings the Helots is portrayed with feverish details by Kelly. They’re men who kill the same way some people breathe, arrogance seasoning their brutality. That clash, between Spartans who have everything and Helots who have nothing, is what drives the story and leads to the inciting incident at the end of this issue. The character dynamics between the three Helots are front and centre here and by the end of the issue you realize their relationship is a lot more complex than previously thought. You also realize, as they do, that relationship will almost certainly get them killed.
This is muscular, almost minimalist storytelling. Gillen, one of the best dialogue writers in the business, scales it right back and lets the Spartans’ violence speak for him. It works, and the casual brutality the book is littered with shows you what’s at stake without it having to be spelt out. Right now the characters are taking a back seat but, as the story continues, the focus will shift to the troubled relationship between the leads. For now though, this is a book about monsters who wear Spartan helmets and every page is filled with tension and threat. Kelly’s art is reminiscent of Darick Robertson in its detail and willingness to show the ugliness of people whilst Bellaire’s rich, deep colours set the stage and then throw arterial spray over a lot of it. Together with Cowles’ always impressive lettering and Hodgkinson’s historical backup, they create a book that’s red in tooth and claw and looks set to carve its name on every Spartan monument in fiction. Nasty, uncomfortable and violent, just like history and, based on this first issue, just as gripping.
Filed under: Our favourite things, Uncategorized | Tags: Greg Land, Iron Man, kieron gillen, Tony STark
‘Believe Part 1: Demons and Genies’
Written by Kieron Gillen
Pencilled by Greg Land
Inked by Jay Leisten
Colors by Guru Efx
Lettered by VC’s Joe Caramagna
Published by Marvel
This is a very odd book to review and it would be really easy for me to get all clever and journalisty over why. By the way the fact that I use words like journalisty, and by use I mean invent as well as use, sort of proves why I shouldn’t try and be journalisty. There I said it again. Journalisty. Journalisty. The word has lost all meaning, if indeed it ever had any.
The reason why the book’s hard to review is simple; there are almost two different comics happening here, one by Kieron Gillen and one by Greg Land. To begin with the Gillen scripted story, this is not only a soft reboot for Tony but also a welcome and logical harkback to the past. We not only meet Tony as a charming playboy but soon discover that he and Maya Hansen, from the Warren Ellis-scripted Extremis storyline (Which also begat sizable portions of Iron Man 3 remember) have failsafes in place to stop their pieces of the ‘future’ leaking out into the world. Maya’s is activated, meaning she’s probably dead; there are Extremis enhanciles in the wild, a concept which itself riffs on Matt Fraction’s Invincible Iron Man story ‘The Five Nightmares’. Gillen has a fine ear for snark and his Tony Stark is charming, erratic and at the same time completely focused when needed and acutely self-aware. If, as the rumours are true, he’ll be spending some time with the Guardians of the Galaxy, then the foundation for that is certainly laid here. This is Tony at his calmest and, weirdly, his most introspective. Which, for a story which sees him go into an AIM auction in disguise simply by shaving his moustache off, is quite an achievement.
Gillen’s script is peppered with mischievous touches like that and just enough tech to make the gearheads happy. Tony’s 3D printing testbed modular suit is particularly fun, and promises some interesting action beats in future issues as he upgrades based on what he needs. From top to bottom, this is a tight, funny, ideas heavy script that manages to be a sensible issue one at the same time as recalling the past. That’s no mean feat.
Then there’s the art by Greg Land. Show me a comic artist who doesn’t have a rabid, holy war-inducing set of haters following them around and I’ll gently point out they’re Josh Hoopes’ latest cover identity, but Greg Land has more than most. The reason is simple, Land’s style either is, or does a very good impression of being, heavily light boxed. Characters often look posed and flat, and female characters often do that ‘hand in big hair, laughing, hip thrust out to the side’ thing that I have never ever seen a real alive woman do.
His work’s never less than pretty but it’s not exactly fluid and a lot of people can’t stand that. For what it’s worth, I’m not fond, but I’ve read and enjoyed a lot of books Land’s illustrated.
Land’s work here is…very Greg Land. Tony’s black and gold duds look very nice and Land, along with Guru EFx give a real sense of scale and beauty to the flying scenes. However, the early scenes where Tony’s out of the suit look stilted and flat and the chilling introduction of the new Extremis enhanciles is heralded…by a woman on a phone, hip out, smiling at the camera, hair blowing in the breeze in the foreground. There’s no depth, no motion at times and whilst the art’s never less than pretty the art’s also, at times, not much more than pretty.
That being said, the final scene really unites the two books. Tony’s visit to an AIM weapons auction has hints of later-run seasons of Dexter to it; all nice suits and life affirming conversations about homicide and the art’s really good too, Land getting a real sense of depth and motion at times. It’s still a little stilted, but the two styles definitely start to roll together by the end of the book.
Iron Man Issue 1 is one of the flagships of Marvel Now and it’s easy to see why. Gillen is on top form here, combining humour, intellect and action and Land’s work, controversial as it is, definitely has the scope needed for Tony’s high tech, high danger world. With the stunning colour work by Guru EFx added in, this may be a team who are stylistically different, but they’re all flying in formation. A very promising new start.
Filed under: Our favourite things, The Glass Is Half Full | Tags: dan savage, generation hope, it gets better, kieron gillen, schism, the glass is half full, tim seeley
My name is Al Ewing, I write comics and I was recently asked to write some reviews for the Travelling Man site. Hello.
For various obvious reasons, every single one of these reviews is going to be positive.
And that’s fine, because 1) we’re in a new age of exciting criticism and loads of great people are being really critical elsewhere, in a good way, giving comics the kind of intelligent working-over it probably needs, or deserves, or deserves to need, or something. Keeping people like me on our toes, basically. So it’s not like the negative aspects of comics, or the comics industry, aren’t being covered.
And 2) many, many comics are very, very good. Certainly enough for me to cover one every week.
The glass of comics is half full.
Let’s start – briefly and shamelessly – with my first love, 2000AD, which is fresh off the newsagent or comic shop shelf every week. 2000AD can also be found in digital form on the 2000AD website, which can be found by typing 2000AD into any competent browser, so there’s really no excuse not to at least try it, or re-try it, especially if you’re a comics fan from the UK. It’s very good at the moment, and has been for a very long time, but I’ll talk properly about that when I’m not in it, otherwise it’s like I’m taking advantage.
2000AD is so ubiquitous a brand when it comes to UK talent that it’s almost easier to list British writers who didn’t get their start working for them than the ones who did, which allows me to segue nicely onto Kieron Gillen, who has three books out this week. They’re all very good. Generation Hope #10 – art by Tim Seeley – is probably my favourite of the three. It’s an integral part of a big X-crossover involving Cyclops and Wolverine finally thrashing out their differences – emphasis on the thrashing – completely naked and hairy in an inflatable paddling pool filled with Durex Play. It’s called Jism.
No, wait, that’s the slashfic version. It’s actually about Cyclops and Wolverine having an extremely clothed disagreement in a completely appropriate setting, and it’s called Schism, and I’m enjoying it quite a lot.
The point is that the crossover can be read perfectly well without reading this issue, and this issue makes perfect sense without the crossover. And if you’ve read the crossover – including a big climactic event which this issue revolves around and which probably prompts the coming ruckus between Slim and Jim – it doesn’t spoil this issue one bit.
Which is how it should be done.
Last month, this comic used mutants as an analogue to a real-world issue; gay teen suicide. (Among other things, it actively referenced the It Gets Better Project – and please check out that link – started by columnist Dan Savage. I’m also a fan of his weekly podcast and I’d heartily recommend it to anyone, particularly anyone struggling with their sexuality, their kinks, or both. You’re not alone, there’s nothing wrong with you and it does, indeed, get better.)
This month, we’re back with more fictional issues, i.e. the treatment of mutants. Except last month was about the treatment of mutants as well, on a surface level, so now I’m seeing analogues everywhere. The bit where Idie, early on, argues in favour of governments having the right to deploy Sentinels against dangerous mutants, without having a full understanding what Sentinels are capable of, reminded me of some of the talk lately about water cannon. (Of course, this issue was likely written months ago. And yet, there it is.)
And – again – that’s how it should be. Comics should reflect the world, or at least something other than themselves, and this – more than any other x-book, more than any other Marvel book – feels like it needs to do that, to live. It’s diverse, it’s young, it’s fresh, it’s clever. It talks the best talk, it walks the best walk. It’s worth your money and your time. Most of all, it’s worth your support.
Next week, I’m in France and away from my standing order, so I might take the opportunity to talk about Largo Winch, eighties chic and sexy Europeans. We shall see.