Filed under: Exquisite Reviews | Tags: Alasdair Stuart, antony johnston, Bitch Planet, Clayton Cowles, Cris Peters, Image Comics, Kamau, Kelly Sue DeConnick, Lauren McCubbin, Lauren Sankovitch, matt fraction, Rian Hughes, Umbral;, Valentine DeLandro
Written by Kelly Sue DeConnick
Art and coves by Valentine DeLandro
Colours by Cris Peters
Letters by Clayton Cowles
Cover Design & Logo Design by Rian Hughes
Backmatter Design by Lauren McCubbin
Edited by Lauren Sankovitch
Published by Image
£2.50
Kamau and the rest of the intake have settled in on Bitch Planet. That doesn’t mean they’re comfortable or safe, and this issue Kamau begins putting together her Megaton team and discovering just how little freedom she and the other inmates have.
One of the things that defines Kelly Sue DeConnick’s work is honesty, not just in the script but in the process. It’s been fascinating to see the obsession with process in comics creation, born through the newfound transparency of the internet in the mid-1990s evolve into a surprising, often profound, willingness to engage with the audience. There’s a generation of creators who came up around then; DeConnick, husband Matt Fraction, the brilliant Antony Johnston and more who have made a virtue not just of excellent work but of talking about the process behind it. Johnston’s writer’s notes on the criminally overlooked and much missed Umbral are a great example of this. DeConnick’s essay here is another.
The entire issue revolves around a shower scene, one so ubiquitous in the female prison movie sub-genre that it’s even titled ‘The Obligatory Shower Scene’. It’s here that Kamau finds out the truth; the Megaton team she’s been asked to put together are a sham. She’s being used to find the toughest, smartest inmates in the prison so they can be murdered during the game. Ratings will soar, every potential ringleader will die and the spirit of the prisoners left will break. She’s told this in a quiet, back section of the showers, where there are no cameras. But, as she’s told, the women aren’t unobserved. In return for letting a guard watch them shower and have sex, they get to talk about whatever they want. It’s not freedom, just a slightly larger cage.
So who’s in charge? The inmates because they’ve found a spot where they can be if not free then less contained? The guards who let them have that space? The peeping tom who’s watching them? The women who know he’s there and in knowing that, let him watch? There’s a constant, just this side of frantic, struggle for control here. It underpins the entire book in fact, with another scene giving us the first real breakdown on just how brutal Megaton is as a sport. But it’s the shower scene that brackets the book, the shower scene that stays with you and the shower scene that DeConnick talks about in the backmatter. The scene took three passes, it delayed the book and they did it anyway. That willingness to get something this important right is one of the reasons this is an extraordinary comic. This isn’t a comic showing up late because no one was doing the work, it’s a comic showing up late because as DeConnick puts it, ‘we need the extra time to get it right’.
That’s not only admirable it maps onto the idea of Non-Compliance. The need, and fight, to be yourself is what lies at the heart of a lot of this series and it’s how the shower scene is concluded. Kamau can’t wear the fake freedom they have so she doesn’t. She also can’t let the guard who’s watching them off the hook so she doesn’t. She finds a way to fight back, protect her team and give herself an edge in the ongoing war. It’s a tough, hard fought payoff that raises the stakes in the book once again and sets up the next phase. It also embodies what makes this such a fantastic series; a fierce work ethic, a refusal to compromise and not a single ounce of quit. Brilliant, complex, tough and essential.
Filed under: Exquisite Reviews | Tags: clint barton, david aja, hawkeye, Hawkguy, Ian Herring, jeff lemire, Joe Sabino, Kate Bishop, Marvel, matt fraction, Ramon Perez
Storytellers Jeff Lemire & Ramon Perez
Colours by Ian Herring & Ramon Perez
Letters by VC’s Joe Sabino
Published by Marvel
£2.85 or £1.99 with your SuperCard Go! Or Avengers membership. Whichevs.
Yes this is the relaunch. Yes it’s happening before the previous series has finished. There, that’s that out of the way.
Now go buy this book. Let me give you the three reasons why.
First off, Jeff Lemire is not only an amazing talent but one who shifts focus and approach depending on what he’s working on. If you enjoyed the previous run of Hawkeye, and I loved it, then you’ll love this. There’s the same banter between Clint and Kate, the same total lack of luck on Mr Barton’s part and the same freewheeling, high impact action. Hawkeye fight scenes, as the previous creative team demonstrated, work best when built like Jackie Chan fight scenes; infinitely chaotic and rigidly disciplined. You get that here, and Perez’s tight, tense lines ensure every hit has some muscle behind it. There’s also some welcome tension; for the first time in a while I found myself genuinely worried about one character in particular. That’s not because the previous team did badly, the Fraction and Aja Hawkeye is one of the first great western comics of the 21st century. Rather it’s because this feels new. New game, new rules, same characters. Instant tension.
Secondly, you get two stories for the price of one. Really, you do. Lemire and Herring illustrate the story of Clint’s past while Perez & Herring cover the present. The past sequence is beautiful, impressionistic, loose and at one point brutal. The present is all clean lines, minimalist design and easy flowing wisecracks. It’s like watching an action movie shot intercut with a tragedy and it reads like nothing else on the market right now as a result. Also the art, both flavors, is stunning.
Then there’s the fact these are two of the most instantly likable characters in the Marvel universe. Clint Barton, luckless schlub, is so endearing you want to hug him and tell him everything will be okay. Kate Bishop is, along with the X-Men’s magnificent Pixie and Ms Marvel’s Kamala Khan, one of the best female characters in comics and here they both get to really cut loose. So, please, if you like these creators, characters and stories with compassion, ambition and wit, pick this up. If it was Clint, he’d pick it up for you.
Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: Alasdair Stuart, Drew Gill, Howard Chaykin, Image, Jed Dougherty, Jesus Aburtov, Ken Bruzeank, Mad Men, matt fraction, Michael White, Satellite Sam
Written by Matt Fraction
Art by Howard Chaykin
Lettering & Logo by Ken Bruzenak
Diggital Production by Jed Dougherty
Cover Colours by Jesus Aburtov
Designed by Drew Gill
Published by Image
£7.50
Welcome to 1951. TV is about to change forever, the airwaves themselves are up for grabs and two of the worst things that could possibly happen to Michael White. He’s about to lose his father and gain the old man’s job.
Few books have combined the glamour and sweat of TV with the darkest pits of human behaviour like Satellite Sam. This first story sets up the multiple threads of the series and plays like an episode of Studio 60 written and produced by the creators of Mad Men. Everyone walks fast and talks fast, everyone has an angle, the show is everything and no one has time to slow down for human things like grieving or asking questions. Except Michael White.
Michael is the series itself in microcosm. He’s a man unsure what side of the camera he fits on and who has the quiet(ish) life he built snatched away by his father’s death. He’s very deliberately not a square jawed hero, but one of us. Weak, traumatised, struggling to understand not only the opportunities offered him but the reasons for everything that’s happened. He’s not always sympathetic or likable by any means but he’s always human and always interesting.
The book could be described the same way. Fraction has a huge fondness for this time period and it shows in everything from the detail to the pacing. There’s cinematic use of time here as some moments are stretched across multiple panels while other panels repeat ‘camera angles’ to give a scene a specific pacing or tone. That really helps as the book goes on, diving into the complex politics of the birth of the political age as well as the increasingly shadowy lives of the people building it.
On the art side of things, this is the sort of book Howard Chaykin was born to draw. There’s incredible detail and love in every panel as well as the slightly cold feel that Chaykin’s work has always had for me. There’s something deliberately grotesque about this large cast of mostly beautiful people doing awful things and Chaykin revels in that, dropping us into the shark tank and letting us see what’s waiting in there. Combined with his very dense, information heavy style that’s going to be too much for some people although Bruzenak’s lettering remains accessible and clear throughout.
This is a smart, demanding book that’s difficult to love but very easy to enjoy. A multi leveled, ambitious story set at the start of the TV age, ti’s a salute to everything, good and bad, from that time. Complex, demanding and extremely rewarding.
Filed under: Exquisite Reviews | Tags: Alasdair Stuart, Becka Kinzie, Chip Zdarsky, Cumworld, Drew Gill, Jon, Kegelface, matt fraction, Myrtle Spurge, Rach, Sex Criminals, Sex Police, Suzy, The Quiet, Thomas K
Written by Matt Fraction
Art by Chip Zdarsky
Colour Flatting by Becka Kinzie
Editing by Thomas K
Production by Drew Gill
Published by Image
Suzy and Jon are a thing. Suzy and Jon also have a Thing. A Thing that’s completely unlike anything else they’ve ever had. When they orgasm, time slows way down. Suzy calls it The Quiet. Jon calls it Cumworld.
They use Suzy’s name. It’s cooler.
They also, sort of, commit crimes. And date. And their lives are far more complicated than they were expecting because it turns out? They’re not the only ones who can access The Quiet.
Sex Criminals careens merrily into its second six months with a look at Suzy’s present, Jon’s past and their future. Suzy’s present actually looks pretty good too, reunited with best friend Rach and able to trust her enough to let her in on their secret. The pair have an easy, very funny back and forth rapport and Suzy’s method of proving her ability is real is Rach’s suggestion, immensely immature and very funny. It’s a sweet scene that leads directly to a look at just how messed up Jon is.
This book excels at major tonal gearshifts and there are two here. The first is in Jon’s flashback, which goes from the sort of adolescent wish fulfillment having abilities like his would cause to a sudden, horrific realization of just what he’s being sculpted into. Jon has a moment in this issue where everything that’s happened to him, his crappy childhood, his apparent liberation via his powers, his hormones and the total lack of expectations on him combine and he realizes what he may be becoming. It’s a realization that would crush a weaker person but his strength, and self-awareness, allow him to stop becoming a monster. That would be impressive writing in and of itself but coupled with his inability to move past those behaviors, it’s extraordinary writing. This is subtle nuanced character work on a scale you don’t normally see. Anywhere. The fact that a few pages later he’s beating the crap out of someone with a double ended, six foot long dildo does nothing to diminish the scene either.
That’s the second major gearshift and again, it works beautifully. Jon’s fight scene is a masterpiece of action and crappy, untrained scuffling that also reinforces the previous scene. He gets in trouble because he’s always got away with stuff before. That trouble has now, at last, led back to Suzy (And Rach) and provided all three with answers as well as a serious threat. They aren’t alone in The Quiet, and Jon has just started a war. That war and what it does to them will be the biggest test they and the book have faced so far.
On the art side of things, Zdarsky and Becka Kinzie continue to do phenomenally good work. Zdarsky’s characters work is extraordinary because he has such a remarkable eye for the ordinary. These are normal looking people doing abnormal things and the two elements build each other up to give the book an utterly unique feel. The pages are all smartly laid out and dense in a way that doesn’t feel heavy and knows when to stand back from the script. The lettering is chatty and leads you round the page and the characters’ thought processes are all there on the page. It’s amazingly good work all around and ties off another really strong issue of one of the breakout hits of the year. Clever, melancholy, deeply weird and magnificently filthy stuff.
Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: Alasdair Stuart, Andres Mossa, Antonio Fabela, Attilan, Black Bolt, Clayton Cowles, Hanna, Infinity, Inhumanity, Marvel, matt fraction, Medusa, Nick Bradshaw, Palmer, Todd Nauck
Written by Matt Fraction
Art by Nick Bradshaw with Todd Nauck
Inks by Bradshaw, Hanna, Palmer & Nauck
Colours by Antonio Fabela & Andres Mossa
Letters by VC’s Clayton Cowles
Cover by Nick Bradshaw & Laura Martin
Published by Marvel
£2.40
There’s a poem that genre fiction quotes every time it wants a little cheap gravitas. It’s called The Second Coming, is written by WB Yeats and this is the line you’ve either read or probably heard quoted:
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
It’[s not quoted here, but it doesn’t need to be. Just as the Karnak and New Avengers-centric issues explored the short term and long term consequences of Infinity, this looks at the most difficult situation of all; the new status quo. Attilan has fallen, the Inhumans are simultaneously everywhere and scattered and, as is always the case, things are falling apart. Focusing on Medusa, this looks at what the new, lone, Monarch of the Inhumans plans on doing about that.
This is the sort of world building that in lesser hands would look like what it is; the narrative pieces for a larger story being put in place. Here though it works perfectly. Fraction has a unique, from the feet up approach to the Marvel universe that works particularly well with the more science fictional elements of it. That’s especially true here as he constantly shifts focus from the staggering, complex tragedy and opportunity the Inhumans have suffered through to very believable, grounded individual reactions. It’s a clever way of scripting the book, and it papers over the cracks that always appear in stories like this. After all, fundamentally this is a series of small vignettes trailing what’s to come. We get a group of powered armour-wielding soldiers stealing Inhuman cocoons, the growing concern of Inhuman parents for their missing children and the return of an Inhuman tyrant who has been quietly, but definitively, erased from history. These could all feel unsatisfying, but Fraction approaches them all the same way and weaves them into a cohesive, character-centric whole. Medusa is now the Queen of the most disparate, chaotic nation on Earth. These are her problems. Which does she deal with first, and how?
That character based approach pays dividends again and again and it’s clear by the end of the issue just how wide ranging Inhumanity is going to be. The Inhumans’ past, present and future are all on the table here and whilst there are no easy answers, Fraction shows that the race are in very good hands. Medusa has rarely been more interesting than she is here, and the ending in particular sets up a very different approach for the Inhumans’ new Queen.
The art, unfortunately, is less solid. Bradshaw and Nauck are never less than good, but there are two drastic stylistic shifts in the back half of the book that jar. Bradshaw, Hanna, Palmer & Nauck do good work on inks, as do Fabela and Mossa on colours but their styles never quite sit well together. Cowles’ lettering is, as ever, subtle and very effective.
This is another smart piece of set up for Inhumanity and one that takes definite steps forward for the Inhumans as a race and a power block in the Marvel universe. A good jumping on point as well, it’s another impressive entry in an ambitious, unusual event story. Check it out.
Filed under: Exquisite Reviews | Tags: Alasdair Stuart, Attilan, Black Bolt, Dustin Weaver, Gerry Alanguilan, Infinity, Inhumanity, Inhumans, Israel Silva, Karnak, Laura Martin, Leinil Yu, Mark Morales, matt fraction, Maximus, Medusa, Olivier Coipel, VC's Clayton Cowles
Written by Matt Fraction
Art by Olivier Coipel
Inked by Mark Morales
Colours by Laura Martin
Ancient Flashback art by Leinil Yu, Gerry Alanguilan and Israel Silva
Infinity Flashback art by Dustin Weaver and Israel Silva
Letters by VC’s Clayton Cowles
Published by Marvel
£2.85
In the wake of Infinity, the Marvel Universe has changed forever. The really nice thing is, it actually has too. This isn’t a ‘Spider-Man’s new onesie means everything is different’ situation, this is an actual, ground up, societal change. The Inhuman city of Attilan has been destroyed as both a last ditch attempt to stop Thanos and a gambit that Black Bolt and Maximus, his brother, developed as a means of securing the future of their people.
But there are always casualties.
Karnak, one of the original inhumans, is found wandering in the ruins of New York. Imprisoned, for his own safety, by the Avengers, he tells them the story of his people, what really happened and what’s likely to happen next…
There are two ways to look at this issue. Let’s get the obscure one out of the way first shall we? There’s a strong case for this, structurally, being a riff on ‘Isaac and Ishmael’, the episode that was added to the top of The West Wing series 3 in response to the events of September 11th, 2001. That episode was in essence a single set play (And yes, right now there are people going ‘I think you’ll find there was more than one set used’. Well done, have a cookie.) which gradually folded each of the main characters in to an ongoing conversation. That’s exactly what happens here, as Fraction has Karnak talking first to Hawkeye, and, eventually, other members of the Avengers and the Illuminati. It’s a lovely format that suits this sort of story very well, and the fact Clint starts the conversation is a nicely underplayed character beat. Hawkeye, especially in the amazing ongoing series Fraction also writes, is portrayed as about the most street level hero Marvel have on the books. Clint is the guy who needs everything explained, not because he’s an idiot, but because he’s an archer and assassin who works with an ageless soldier, a technological genius and a God, amongst others. He’s us, in exactly the same way the Companions in Doctor Who are. Just with less screaming and more archery.
The second way of looking at is this the pause for breath either just after, or just before the plunge. Infinity was, let’s face it, the tightest, most coherent Marvel crossover in years. It not only repaired a lot of the crossover fatigue Age of Ultron inspired but managed to move a lot of huge scale plots a good way forward. Inhumanity, the next big crossover, is up next and this issue both puts a bow on Infinity and opens Inhumanity up.
It’s also a potted history of the Inhumans, as Karnak fills the Avengers, and us, in on his race. The ancient flashback is especially great, with Yu#s detailed, tense artwork showing us the amazing early history of the planet’s forgotten race. Together, Yu, Alanguilan and Silva have a style that evokes the best European SF comics and accentuates the otherworldly nature of the story even more in doing so.
What really makes this work is how intimate it is. This is a conversation between a man without a kingdom and the people who are left to pick up the pieces and the sense of tragedy is tangible. Karnak is a genius, arguably the smartest living being on Earth, and, in the end that imprisons him rather than empowers him. As the issue closes, we’ve learned how the Inhumans were, how they are and got hints of what they’ll become. The price of that knowledge is too much for some characters and the issue closes with Medusa, the Queen of the Inhumans, in the frame in every way imaginable. The world is changing and the knowledge of what’s coming is going to break some characters in half. Whether Medusa is one of them or not will have consequences for everyone in the Marvel Universe. After all, there are always casualties.
Filed under: Exquisite Reviews | Tags: Alasdair Stuart, Chip Zadarsky, Image, Jon, matt fraction, Sex Criminals, Suzie, The Quiet
Created by Matt Fraction and Chip Zdarsky
Published by Image
£2.50 or £1.85 with SuperCardGo! Which you should totally do by the way because it’s brilliant.
This is the best book published this week and it may also be the one you’re most embarrassed to be seen reading. Here’s the thing;
Don’t be. Because this is going to be huge.
Hawkeye huge.
Saga huge.
Possibly huger in fact.
Know why? It’s brilliant. There’s really no other way to describe a book that plays so gleefully with expectations that it can’t resist starting on the inside of the front cover. Every single page here is bursting with enthusiasm as Fraction and Zdarsky tell you a story as fast and as well as they can. Take it from me, they’re both very, very good at this and their subversion of your expectations is one of the book’s most charming qualities.
Oh and the book opens with the two leads having frantic sex in a public toilet. But like Suzie, the main character says, bear with me, the jokes are coming. Suzie loses her father in absurd, horrific circumstances when she’s young. Her mother retreats into herself and Suzie is largely left to fend for herself. She and her mom drift through their lives in a sea of grief and numb, panoramic horror until one night Suzie masturbates for the first time.
And time stops.
Not metaphorically, time STOPS.
Just not for her. Instead, for Suzie time gets really slow. She wonders around the house, bemused but not frightened until the next morning when she finds out that she left the bath running and is in the dog house with her mom.
Sex.
Freedom.
Emotional re-engagement.
Superpowers.
Comedy.
You get all this in the space of about four pages and all presented by the adult Suzie commenting on her own past as we read it. This is where the genius of the book lives, as adult Suzie walks us through her magnificently horrific childhood and attempts to find out why she has ‘exploding things inside her’. It’s a perfect description of childish logic that never patronises or plays as twee. Instead you have this young girl, blighted by tragedy, taking control of her life in a way that’s actually pretty brave and odd and that absolutely no one else can help her with. So, Suzie does what Suzie does and she survives her way into adulthood, bouncing off horrible encounters with the ‘dirty girls’ and her doctor that show us just how appalling people are about teaching teenagers about sex. The fact that Suzie has orgasm related time stopping superpowers, oddly enough, complicates matters even further.
This is one of those books where it’s impossible to single out an individual team member firstly because everyone involved does incredible work and secondly because there are two of them and singling one out would be a little weird. Fraction’s sense of humour and grounded character sense shine through here, as does Zdarsky’s magnificently skewed view of the world. Together, they combine to create something that manages to be incredibly grounded even as it deals with epic moments of fantasy and crushing moments of horror. Suzie’s joke about how great Halloween was the year her dad died is a perfect example, but for my money it’s the increasingly demented sexual positions Suzie’s taunted with during her disastrous second meeting with the dirty girls that really hit the comedic bullseye. This is a really funny book and the best jokes often come hand in hand with moments of real pathos or horror. The conversation with Suzie’s doctor is as funny as it is terrible and the crushing moment she attempts to explain to her mom has incredible emotional weight to it. Suzie’s both completely normal and completely unique and Fraction and Zdarksy nail that again and again.
Incidentally, this is also the sweetest book you’ll read all month. The moment where Suzie meets, and pretty much instantly falls for, male lead Jon is…honestly, the only word that really works is ‘joyous’. We see a panel of her feet lift off the ground and then a full page of her and Jon talking their way around a party and each other, Suzie floating the whole time. It’s such a simple visual but it’s wonderful, a perfect encapsulation of that moment you meet someone, realize how much you have in common and fall, hard and fast. Or, in this case, fly.
As the book closes we get one moment of sublime comedy, more of Zdarsky’s wonderful visuals of the way time moves after Suzie’s orgasms and a closing page which is equal parts sad and completely honest. We know enough to know how much trouble they’re both in and care about them enough to want them to be okay. In other words, exactly where the book wants us for issue 2.
Sex Criminals is amazing. Zdarsky’s structural brilliance and jet black sense of humour is cut with Fraction’s energy, invention and goofball snark to create something unlike anything you’ve ever read before. This isn’t a book you should be embarrassed to buy, it’s one
Filed under: Exquisite Reviews, Uncategorized | Tags: Alasdair Stuart, Clayton Cowles, clint barton, hawkeye, Hawkguy, javier pulido, Kate Bishop, matt fraction, Matt Hollingsworth, Pizza Dog, West Coast Avengers
“West Coast Avenger”
Written by Matt Fraction
Art by Javier Pulido
Colours by Matt Hollingsworth
Letters by VC’s Clayton Cowles
Published by Marvel
£3.60
There’s an uneasy relationship between ‘clever’ and ‘fun’ in comics. There are great comics that are fun and great comics that are clever but the two groups don’t often overlap. When they do, you get something truly extraordinary. Hawkeye is extraordinary.
There’s a scene that this annual has in common with the amazing ‘Pizza Is My Business’ issue of Hawkeye that I mentioned in yesterday’s review. This time around, the scene is from the point of view of the humans involved and both draws a line and opens a door. Kate Bishop, the second Hawkeye, is sick to the back teeth of putting up with Clint’s crap so she leaves. Even worse, she takes Lucky the Pizza Dog with her and keeps driving until she hits the West Coast. There’s no plan she just want away, as far as possible.
Clint and Kate have three things in common aside from the name; the first is their archery skill, the second is their fondness for the colour purple and the third is their profound inability to have anything other than bad luck. Kate arrives in LA and finds, in short order that her credit cards have been cancelled and her car, with all her things in it, has been stolen. Thankfully, a woman called Whitney Frost takes pity on her and invites her to stay until she’s back on her feet. Less thankfully, Whitney is actually Madam Masque and intent on extracting as many pounds of flesh from Kate as possible following events in a previous issue of Hawkeye. Thankfully Kate realizes who she is. Less thankfully, she decides to stay. She does this, largely, because she wants to see if she can stand on her own two feet. Plus, after close to a year of putting up with Clint’s nonsense, Kate’s spoiling for a fight…
This is brilliant, there’s really no other way to describe it. Javier Pulido’s clean lines are close enough to David Aja’s style to connect this to the core book but far enough away, like Kate, to ensure that it has an identity of its own. He’s particularly fond of shadows, and there’s lots of interesting silhouette work done here that acts as visual shorthand for both action and character. Along with some interesting, off-set panel choices, the book reads a lot like a Saul Bass opening sequence or the wonderful house-searching scene from Catch Me If You Can. There’s visual wit here, something that Hollingsworth’s colours and Cowle’s letters do nothing but focus. Kate Bishop’s LA is soaked in street light and sunshine, both of which cast very long shadows that cut the playful tone of the book with the slightest dash of grim and sharpens both flavours as a result. Cowles’ lettering is just as smart, with Kate’s specific (occasionally rehearsed) speech pattern coming across perfectly. Her inner voice, represented by a stream of consciousness, Cathy-esque version of herself is also beautifully presented, and embodies the constant push and pull between the action and the more playful elements of the book. Fraction and Pulido carry this balancing act through to the fights too, which are the perfect combination of balletic and scrappy. By the end of the book, Kate’s won her fight, got her scars (Including a very subtle callback to Clint in the opening pages that I initially missed) and got herself a war into the bargain. She’s also got a fresh start and a blank page and there are very few things purer or more beautiful. Although having a credit card that works would probably help too…
This is a brilliant book, clever and fun and encoding Kate’s own desire to make her mark into its layout and design. She may want nothing to do with Clint right now but she’s still Hawkeye and that means four things; archery, the colour purple, bad luck and the pure, unbridled joy of still standing at the end of the fight. The West Coast doesn’t just have an Avenger again, it has a Hawkeye, with a dog. Evildoers beware.
Filed under: Exquisite Reviews | Tags: Alasdair Stuart, Carlyle White, Doc Eisenberg, Howard Chaykin, Image, Jesus Aburtov, Ken Bruzenak, Mad Men, matt fraction, Mikey White, NSFW, provided your work has issues with classic 1950s lingerie and swearing. Meaning of course that if you work in a profanity laden 1950s lingerie store you're both good to go and clearly some form of tim, Satellite Sam, Studio 60 on The Sunset Strip, The 1950s, The FCC, The Hour
‘The Big Fade Out’
Written by Matt Fraction
Art by Howard Chaykin
Lettering by Ken Bruzenak
Cover Colours by Jesus Aburtov
Published by Image
£2.50
It’s another day on the set of Satellite Sam, a live broadcast TV show in the 1950s. This means that Guy Roth, the author is in the middle of a tantrum, Doc Ginsberg, the head of the station is courting investors, a light has blown above the set and Carlyle White, star of the show, is missing. Again. The cast and crew aren’t even surprised anymore and as they wearily work around yet another absence, we get a look at the politics within the show and the network. It’s a bubble, a sealed ecosystem of privilege and rank, status defined by where you stand in front or behind the camera.
It’s all about to change.
Matt Fraction’s having a fantastic year. Hawkeye is possibly the best book Marvel have put out in the last five years, his Invincible Iron Man run is a central part of the approach taken by the hugely successful movies and he has another major series scheduled through Marvel, and another creator-owned one through Image, both on deck for later this year. Based on this opening issue, they have a lot to live up to.
Appropriately given the subject matter, this is a book that feels like a particularly good pilot episode. There’s the same barely controlled chaos you see in Studio 60, the same constant clash of ego and career that defined The Hour and the same big idea that turns the status quo on its head by the end of episode one. In fact, here there are two; the death of Carlyle White and the drastic changes in the show. One of the book’s best scenes is the opening, where we’re shown the control room, the barely functional relationships inside it and what happens when Ginsberg brings investors in. The two sets of characters barely know how to interact with one another and Fraction uses this to introduce us to the multiple worlds of Satellite Sam. There are at least three; the set, the control room and the board room and none of them get on, despite being mutually dependent. They’re also all constantly on the edge of disaster, and Fraction wrings jet black humor from the increasing absurdity of the situation. A standout scene follows Mikey, Carlyle’s son and a show engineer, as he runs out over the set during a commercial break to change a light bulb whilst one of the other actor’s frantically improvises beneath him. No one gets on, no one’s particularly sympathetic but they’re all fascinating to watch. Plus, the closing pay off, to both the first issue and the episode of the show, are both great and promise even greater things for the rest of the story.
Chaykin on art is both an inspired choice and a difficult one, at least for me. I’ve never got on with his character work, packed as it is with endless square jaws and the grotesque extremes of everyday human expression but here it works very well. There are still some of the same beats Chaykin always seems to hit but they’re in context for the story and work far better as a result. He also shows incredible subtlety in some places, with one page defined entirely by the same image of the producer in the foreground, only his eyes moving to show expression. Similarly, the frantic run across the city to where Carlyle is holed up is a beautiful moment, a literal breath of fresh air after being stuck in the studio. This is an era filled with an aesthetic sense that fits perfectly with Chaykin’s own and even I can see the work he does here is amazing.
There’s nothing else like Satellite Sam on the shelves right now and that alone would be a recommendation. However, what really seals the deal is just how perfectly the elements of the book come together. Fraction’s script is confident, pacey and clearly steeped in research and Chaykin’s style meshes with it perfectly. The end result is a perfectly constructed story about a story that’s anything but perfect. The cast and crew of Satellite Sam are going to have more very bad days. Based on this issue, we’re going to have a lot of fun watching them.
Filed under: Our favourite things | Tags: Alan Davis, chris eliopoulos, david aja, hawkeye, javier pulido, matt fraction, Matt Hollingsworth, young avengers
Back in September, I reviewed the second issue of Fraction and Aja’s run on Hawkeye. Despite never being particularly into The Avengers, and knowing nothing about the character Hawkeye (Clint Barton) but what is in the The Avengers Assemble, the minimalistic, mod-style artwork drew me in; when I read it, I was so glad that I had. This run has managed to capture the attention of those who would never normally pick up Hawkeye and brought many of us to love this version of our hero, Clint.
The background is this: Clint Barton has become the leader of the Secret Avengers, and Kate Bishop of the Young Avengers has taken his mantle. This series isn’t about the Avengers though, just about Clint and Kate in their spare time, being heroes on an everyday scale; from saving a dog’s life and the homes of his neighbours in the first issue, to a high-speed car chase complete with trick arrows. But what all the issues have in common is that they portray Clint as a funny, easy-going good guy who just can’t help but get himself into scrapes.
The first issue is a simple story of a newly rich Clint Barton trying to save the homes of his neighbours by buying their apartment block. Of course money isn’t an issue for him any more, and he brings a bag of money to meet the Russian who owns the building but ends up in an all-out brawl in the streets, during which he kicks a dog out into traffic. Clint Barton, loveable hero, takes the dog to the vet’s to be patched up, and ends up going wild when faced with the man who hurt “Arrow” (who he renames Lucky).
The second, the one I reviewed last September, is a great single story of Clint and Kate infiltrating a circus show during which the criminal circus steals from the wealthiest scumbags in Manhattan. Not necessarily important enough for the Avengers to deal with, but Clint recognises the handiwork of the ringmaster as a student of the Swordsman, the man who taught Clint how to be a human weapon (hence, My Life As A Weapon). Clint and Kate’s relationship is beautiful; of course, with Clint, there is always the hint of sexual tension, but for once he is being sensible, and it only adds to the barbs of their loving insults.
The third issue is full of sex, car chases and trick arrows, which are fantastic. From the bola arrow to the putty arrow to the explosive-tip arrow…they are all great and fun to see in this high-paced, raunchy stand-alone issue. The fact that Clint wears purple boxers, and the countdown of his nine bad ideas of the day, are great examples of the humour of the comic, but easily the best visual gag of the issue is when Clint is found in an indecent situation and leaps across the bed naked with just a retro Hawkeye mask face covering his privates. It’s absolutely perfect.
Javier Pullido took over on the artwork in issues four and five, which go directly together and deal with some of the issues of the Avengers, as Kate and Clint try to get their hands on a video tape of Hawkeye committing a political assassination. The artwork is more traditional than Aja’s but that thread of purple colouring runs consistently throughout as Clint continues trying to charm his way out of incredibly awkward situations. Madame Masque is a rather interesting villain and Clint and Kate are a tight team as always. Some of the panels really stand out, such as those drenched in red and with Chris Eliopoulos’s hand-lettering. It’s another fun story which reinforces the idea that Clint really is a good, honest man – the best kind of superhero.
Perhaps an odd addition to the collection, the last issue is a Young Avengers Presents illustrated by Alan Davis, and the artwork is wildly different with much more vivid colours and almost fantasy-esque costumes. It mostly deals with Kate’s love-life, and the first time she and Clint meet and their friendship is formed. He puts a lot of trust in her, and it’s interesting to see how the relationship has developed throughout Aja’s run.
Hawkeye is a comic book for people who enjoy funny, loveable superheroes who aren’t too serious. The humour is typical of the humour of Deadpool and Spiderman, where not only the heroes are goofy but also the book itself – just one great example is that when someone speaks in a language Clint doesn’t understand, it is translated to a rough approximation of what he thinks it means, and insults are replaced with “(Derogatory patriarchal epithet)”. Every issue begins with the line “Okay, this looks bad”, and it usually really is; poor Clint. Aja’s mod artwork is both retro and refreshing, Fraction’s writing ensures Clint’s humour is unrelenting, and Matt Hollingsworth’s colouring is exquisitely subtle. Easily one of the funniest superhero comic books you’re likely to pick up this year.
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