Pre-Reading

Nothing, really. I came into this having read no other post-crisis Wonder Woman runs, and never felt lost. Greg Rucka does a good job of bringing you up to speed on anything you need to know.

Story

Wonder Woman isn’t a character a read a lot of growing up. My first exposure to Diana of Themyscira was through the DCAU Justice League cartoon where she played the role of “strong naive princess.” While I loved the DCAU, Wonder Woman often faded into the background and I was never tempted to pick up any back issues or trades. I did read the New 52 run a few years back (mostly for the Cliff Chiang art) and thought it was fun in an elseworlds sort of way, but it wasn’t until reading Death Metal and Justice Leage Dark this year that I was really intrigued by the character.

Boy was I missing out.

Rucka’s run focuses heavily on Diana’s role as the UN ambassador for Themyscira and explores the role of a superhero in international politics, while still showcasing classic villains and the pantheon of Greek gods and goddesses. Hiketeia is a great introduction to Rucka’s interpretation of the character. While it has a darker feel than his main run, it does an excellent job of highlighting Diana’s ambassadorship, celebrity status, and hopeful nature while pitting her views against those of other heroes and maintaining close ties to Greek mythology.

The main run explores the role of Wonder Woman in modern society, and is approached with real world sensibility not often seen in superhero comics. Rucka does a great job using Diana’s role as a UN ambassador to explore both how superheroes could impact international diplomacy, and how a matriarchal society may be viewed as a threat by a patriarchal world.

Diana herself is outspoken, which inspires as much ire as love. While she certainly does her fair share of superheroics, Rucka’s interpretation is a published author and champion of social justice, which makes her feel more in-line with revolutionary cultural icons like Gandhi and MLK. Early in the run, she is faced with two antagonists who serve as foils for different facets of her character: Dr Veronica Kale and Dr Psycho. Dr Kale serves a Lex Luthoresque role, in that she is a powerful self-made woman who could do much good for the world, save for the resentment she harbors towards Diana. While Diana lifts those around her up, Dr Kale tears down those who challange her station. Dr Psycho, meanwhile, is suitably gross, representing the bondage that Diana opposes; while physical bondage has been a Wonder Woman motif since the golden age, he represents a psychological bondage that is viscerally upsetting.

In the back half of the book themes of compromise and consequences come to the forefront. The Medousa arc both cost Diana her sight (both literally and metaphorically?) while beginning to fracture the trust within her Embassy team. She remained a hero in the eyes of the public because she “killed a monster,” but there was a noticeable shift towards darker tone. Her now-infamous killing of Max Lord several arcs later was basically the essentially the same situation, but there was a cold confidence in her actions that underscored how her character had changed.

I do wish we had gotten to see more of the fallout from Max Lord’s death. Diana was basically detained by the UN, but then just eloped from custody because Themyscira needed her, which is followed immediately by Infinite Crisis. Wonder Woman 225 does provide some degree of closure, but I feel like the story was setting up an interesting courtroom drama that never materialized.

The omni also includes 3 Blackest Night tie-in issues that felt tacked-on. I appreciate the desire to include all of Rucka’s pre- Flashpoint Wonder Woman material, but these issues are presented without context to the larger crossover, take place years later, and don’t really contribute much story-wise.

Art

Hiketeia is drawn by J.G. Jones and is detailed and moody. The backgrounds feel intricate and the characters are consistent from page-to page. Though I much prefer his cover art to his sequential art, it’s still probably some of the better art in this book.

Most of the run is drawn by Drew Johnson and Ray Snyder, with additional contributions from Rags Morales and Cliff Richards, among others. The art is decent, maintains a similar feel through changing artists, and avoids the pitfall of oversexualizing Diana, but serves more as a vehicle for Rucka’s writing than a selling point itself. That’s not to say that any of it is bad, but it feels kind of generic and doesn’t really elevate the story.

The Blackest Night tie-ins are all drawn by Nicola Scott. While these issues don’t do anything for me narratively, her art alone probably makes them worth including. I really appreciate how dynamically she draws combat, and was happy to learn that she worked on Rucka’s Rebirth run as well.

Build/ Presentation

Coming in at just over 1000 pages, this is about perfectly-sized for an omnibus. The paper stock is thick enough where there isn’t any noticeable bleed-through, and while it’s doesn’t have the biggest eye, the book lays open with minimal gutter loss. I appreciate the all of the dust jacket art highlights the beautiful J. G. Jones covers of the run, and especially like the art on the spine.

Final Thoughts

This was a really good run, and a great jumping-on point for Wonder Woman. Rucka just understands the character and does a great job exploring her role as both an ambassador of peace and a warrior. Though the end of the book feels a bit muddled, it’s still a very satisfying read, great character study, and has me excited to check out Rucka’s Rebirth-era Wonder Woman run.

Rating: 8.5/10

Pre-Reading

No pre-reading is really necessary; this stands on its own and tells a fairly insulated story. It’s technically a sequel to the New 52 run, but also sort of a soft reboot that barely acknowledges the first run. It also serves as a companion piece to Snyder’s Metal/ Justice League saga with references to that story here and there, but you certainly don’t need to have read that to enjoy this.

Story

I read the New 52 Justice League Dark run a few years back. I was really intrigued by the concept and roster, but ultimately found the run disappointing. Though the right elements were all there, the constant crossovers made it hard for the run to find its footing and there was too much focus on the Zatanna/ Constantine relationship for my liking.

Justice League Dark: Rebirth is the run I had been looking for.

This is not a perfect omni, mostly because of the ending, but when this book shines, man does it shine. First and foremost, I love that magic has rules and consequences. It maintains an internal logic that forces the team to rely on cleverness and strategy as opposed to vague energy blasts and hand-wavy asspulls that can be all too common when magicians or sorcerers are involved.
Tynion actually wrote an entire magic guide for the series, which is included in the back of the book. It’s one of the best extras in recent memory, and I’d actually recommend reading it before diving into the story.

The team roster is another highlight- it threads the needle of including fan-favorite characters without feeling too fan-servicey. Wonder Woman on a magic team feels both fresh and fitting. Her presence makes the team feel like a true offshoot of Justice League in a way that the New 52 lineup didn’t, almost like what X-Force is to the X-Men. Hecate and Circe were clever means of bringing her into the fold and actually piqued my interest about Wonder Woman’s rogues in general. Having only read her in team books and her wildly-different New 52 run, I found myself wanting to read more of her solo adventures.

Tynion and V also do a great job of balancing all of the team members. While Zatanna and Wonder Woman are often at the center stage, everyone has their time to shine and brings something unique to the dynamic. Prior to this, I had limited exposure to Detective Chimp and never thought much of Man-Bat, but they are some of the most endearing characters in the run, and the focus of some of my favorite issues.

“The Shadow Pact” issues gave Detective Chimp a ton of emotional gravitas, exploring loss, regret, and self-loathing, but also forgiveness. Meanwhile, “Tales from the Otherkind” is an excellent single issue that adds a layer of menace to the Otherkind; it’s formatted like a mini anthology reminiscent of “Tales from the Crypt,” with Man-Bat filling the role of the Cryptkeeper.

Though the entire first half is leading to a confrontation with the extradimensional Otherkind and the Upside Down Man, each antagonist feels like a credible threat in their own right. In particular, I appreciated Circe getting a bit of a spotlight, and was impressed that they actually made the Lords of Order interesting. As far as “big bads” go, the Upside Down Man is one of my favorite modern DC villains. His design is simple, but unsettling, he is powerful enough to feel like a team villain, and there is a true sense of dread whenever he makes an appearance. I find him vastly more compelling than the likes of Grail, Perpetua, or the Batman Who Laughs.

The next major arc, Endless Winter, was decent, but felt like it was mostly collected here because there was no other place for it. It bounces between various titles, and doesn’t really feel like a Justice League Dark story, even if the threat was supernatural. That being said, I appreciated seeing Hippolyta’s ancient proto-Justice League Dark.

The next major arc was shaping the wizard Merlin up to be a major antagonist, and was pretty solid, but then it just kind of stops? By this point, Ram V had taken over and did a great job building tension and teasing the fall of the Tower of Fate, but just as things seem primed to come to a head, the story ends on a cliffhanger that, to my knowledge, has never been resolved, which was made all the more frustrating by the omni continuing for an additional 200 pages or so.

Instead of any satisfying conclusion, we then get some forgettable Flash issues featuring the Justice League Dark fighting Eclipso, a rushed Bendis Justice League arc featuring the original Lord of Chaos, and some inconsequential Future State issues. The Lord of Chaos story bothered me the most, not because it was particularly bad, but because it felt so abrupt and toothless. I found myself scratching my head and wondering why those 4 issues weren’t used to finish the Merlin storyline instead if of introducing a new character and trying to pump them up to be some “ultimate threat.” Again, they weren’t particularly bad or poorly-written, just a strange and middling end to a great run.

Art

The artistic team changes quite a bit, but remains solid throughout. Alvaro Martínez Bueno and Raúl Fernández do most of the heavy lifting, and have a relatively clean style that makes the extensive roster easy to differentiate, while being able to play into the horror elements of the series. I did also want to give some praise to Szymon Kudranski, whose art is featured in the Leagues of Chaos storyline. Though I wasn’t the biggest fan of the story itself, his art is atmospheric and exceptionally well-suited to a horror title. I would love to see more of him on a supernatural DC title.

Build/ Design

At 1400+ pages, this thing is a brick, but the binding is excellent. The book feels sturdy, and there is minimal gutter loss. There is also surprisingly little bleed-through, even on predominantly white pages. Even if it doesn’t match the art inside, I love the Lee Bermejo cover and feel like it captures the tone of the series quite well. I don’t really like the spine design, but at least it matches the New 52 run.

Final Thoughts

Despite a disappointing end, I really enjoyed this one. It is far superior to the New 52 run and does an excellent job balancing endearing team dynamics, supernatural mystery, and high-stakes action. This is definitely one I would read again, though I’d probably just skip the last 200 pages or so.

This run has also inspired me to read more Wonder Woman, so I’ll be checking out Greg Rucka’s original run next.

Rating: 8/10

TRIGGER WARNING: I was not the biggest fan 😬

Pre-Reading

As this is a volume 5, it’s not something I would recommend going into cold. At the very least, I would recommend being familiar with X-Men: Fatal Attractions and the major plot points of Larry Hama’s Wolverine run up to this point (Wolverine Omnibus vol 3-4).

Story

This is a real mixed bag in terms of Wolverine stories. Like all volumes in the Wolverine omnibus line, its a mixture of miniseries/one shots and the ongoing solo title which, like the proceeding to volumes, was written by Larry Hama who might be my definitive Wolverine author. The entire entirety of this volume takes place in the “bone claws era” after Wolverine’s adamantium was removed in Fatal Aattractions, and honestly, the stories here feel like they’re running out of steam.

Wolverine Solo Series

The main Wolverine issues remain the highlight. In addition to his adamantium being removed, the strain of the ordeal has left Wolverine with virtually no healing factor. An added conceit is that he is “becoming more feral,” and is reportedly more prone to violence and aggression, though this doesn’t necessarily always come across. Honestly, he seems just as grumpy as he normally is, but there is a lot of good character work done with Wolverine’s internal monologue, where he constantly questions his own humanity. The man vs beast debate is a cornerstone of Wolverine’s character, but here it feels like there are added weight and stakes.

There are also a few stand out single issues, most notably his confrontation with Lady Deathstrike, the first Wolverine/Deadpool fight, and a showdown with Sabertooth that is as much a mental battle as it is a physical one. Some of these weaker issues are those featuring the return of Albert and Elsie-Dee, two androids from an earlier volume that I honestly forgot existed. Their storyline involves time travel shenanigans and just sort of drops off midway the through the omnibus, which was not a huge loss for me.

As the “Wolverine’s going feral” plot marches towards its conclusion in issue 100, the story starts to go off of the rails. While sci-fi elements are deeply ingrained in both the X-Men and Wolverine as a solo character, I think the latter works best with a more body horror/medical experimentation sci-fi slant relating to Weapon X, which is not what we see here. The interdimensional holding firm Landau, Luckman & Lake play pretty big role here, but never really land for me and always felt too campy.

Hopefully it’s not too big of a surprise to anyone reading this review, but the last few main issues have Wolverine going completely feral after a botched and convoluted adamantium bonding procedure. This leaves him with his infamous noseless look and acting like a giant dog. Gone is the brooding internal monologue, gone is the struggle between men and beast, and gone are the quippy one liners. In their place is the epitome of the 90s extreme; over-designed with little below the surface. How this made it through editorial is beyond me, and I would legitimately love to see some sort of behind the scenes retrospective about this decision.

Specials/ Minis/ One-Shots

Interspersed throughout the main issues are various one shots, specials, and miniseries from the time. Unfortunately, this was an era of peak Wolverine oversaturation, so the stories range from boring to decent, but never reach the heights of the specials in previous volumes, many of which were introspective character studies.

The best of these is probably Wolverine/ Gambit: Victims, and early collaboration by Jeph Loeb and the late, great Tim Sale. The latter’s artwork is honestly doing a lot of the heavy lifting, as the titular heroes stumble through an investigation of modern-day Jack the Ripper killings where wolverine is a suspect and the mastermind, when they are finally revealed, is written more like a Joker knockoff than any previous characterization.

Some of the goofier specials include a Typhoid Mary crossover where Wolverine gets knocked out on a rooftop and is absent for the last act, a lackluster sequel to Archie Goodwin and Mike Mignola’s Scorpio Connection (from vol 2), and Ann Nocenti’s Evilution, where Wolverine has to team up with a Native American spirit guide tosave Boom-Boom from the dangers of nuclear power. Some of these are so out-of-pocket that there enjoyable, while others are a slog, but overall, they do disrupt the flow of the ongoing issues.

Art

The art here varies pretty wildly. Most of the main wolverine issues are done by Adam Kubert and might be some of his best art, done at a time when his style was still somewhat influenced by Jim Lee, but beginning to come into its own. I’m also a fan of the rougher look of Ian Churchill‘s art when it appears, and Tim Sale’s work on the Victims miniseries is predictably good, if you enjoy his style.

Final Thoughts

Despite good art and an interesting premise this volume seems to be a point of diminishing returns for the Wolverine omnibus line. I’m glad I read it, and would plan to read it (or at least parts of it) again, but I think this is where I’m stopping with Wolverine, at least until the Greg Rucka relaunch series. I picked up my copy for a very steep discount, and (at the time of writing) it looks like Funaticals has a few copies for $36, which feels like an appropriate price point for this content. When this one inevitably goes out of stock, I would certainly not recommend paying obscene aftermarket prices.

Rating: 5.5/10

Right after the Bruce Wayne: Murderer Turned Fugitive omnibus was announced, I managed to snag the 4 Eaglemoss Murderer/ Fugitive OHCs for just over the omni cover price. I’ve broken down my review into issues that exclusively appear in the Eaglemoss set and issues that are in the Omnibus in order to compare the two.

Pre-Reading

It’s pretty important to have read No Man’s Land and, if you’re just reading the omni, to know the New Gotham status quo.

Eaglemoss exclusive content

The Eaglemoss editions contain everything in the Omni in addition to 20+ Detective Comics issues that bridge the gap between No Man’s Land and Bruce Wayne: Murderer, the Turning Points miniseries, and some kinda lame Azrael tie-in issues. The Detective Comics issues are interesting and really atmospheric. They feel like a huge tonal change from No Man’s Land, and the era of Batman edited by Denny O’Neil in general. They mostly deal with the fallout from NML, but also show Bruce becoming more isolated from the bat family, while becoming closer to his Wayne Industries-mandated bodyguard, Sasha Bordeaux, a new character who becomes his partner and confidante.

I’m torn on these issues. On one hand, they’re kind of frustrating, since a big part of NML was Bruce learning to trust his allies again. Having Batman as an isolated loner again feels like an unnecessary retread. The Bruce/ Sasha dynamic also felt both forced and rushed, and I found it hard to believe that he would so quickly let her into his dual-life, let alone take her on as a partner. On the other hand, the New Gotham Detective Comics issues had a refreshing noir vibe, a more ground level feel, and bigger focus on the GCPD, specifically character like Renee Montoya, Crispus Allen, and Harvey Bullock. In many ways it felt like a proto-Gotham Central, and it was cool to see where the character dynamics for that series got their start.

I was also a big fan of the super-restricted color palette from that era, even if the line work wasn’t my favorite. Each issue showcased two colors, and gave the books a moody noir feel that felt unique and experimental. Looking back, the coloring probably did a lot of heavy lifting in regards to my enjoyment of this era.

One thing of note: it seems strange to include the Turning Points miniseries, but not the Officer Down storyline. While Turning Points is a cool exploration of how Gordon and Batman’s relationship has evolved over the years and it was fun to see homages to various art styles, it seemingly exists to add weight to Officer Down, and feels sort of empty without it.

Omnibus content

Now on to the main event. The omnibus starts with Batman: the 10-cent Adventure, where the titular murder of Vesper Fairchild occurs, which happens about 2/3 of the way through the second Eaglemoss volume. The omni doesn’t seem to include any sort of recap page to bring you up to speed, but the opening issue does provide some degree of context.

Once the murder occurs, the tone shifts, becoming less street level noir & more like other 90s Batman crossovers ( think Knightsend or No Man’s Land). It never really reaches the highs of NML, however, and I think a lot of that has to do with Batman’s characterization and the way that the murder was handled. I think the entire idea of this event is really interesting, raising questions of both how far Bruce would go to protect his secret and the importance of Bruce Wayne to the Batman mythos. It had the potential to be a very introspective story, but just kind of wasn’t. Behind the scenes, I wonder how much longtime editor Denny O’Neil’s retirement affected the tone and overall cohesiveness.

The supporting cast is generally well written, and the best moments are when everyone is together. It’s pretty obvious to the reader early on that Bruce was not the killer, which I feel was a misstep. He keeps withdrawing from the rest of the bat-family without providing any explanation for his actions, while attempting to abandon his Bruce Wayne persona, which would add a lot to the intrigue if we, as the readers, didn’t know he was innocent. It seems like Bruce’s guilt should’ve been more ambiguous for a longer time to maintain the tension of the mystery and keep the reader wondering if he could have actually crossed the line to protect his dual identity.

After the initial set up, the story feels like it meanders a bit, with Batman going up against triads and returning villains from the New Gotham era for several issues in a way that feels disconnected from the larger mystery. It’s actually within ancillary books like Batgirl, Nightwing, and Birds of Prey that a lot of the detective work gets done to solve the case. The issues are still generally fun overall, and Batman 604, in particular, serves as a nice, if stilted, argument that the Bruce Wayne “mask” isn’t actually a mask at all.

Strangely, the story never really touches on the ramifications of Batman giving up the Bruce Wayne persona. You’d think not having access to Wayne money would have some sort of impact on the story, but it’s never really addressed. Batman is seen operating out of satellite Batcaves throughout the city, but still seems to have access to all of his tech and resources. It would have been nice to see him struggle, or return to a more improvisational Year One-style Batman.

Perhaps less obvious if you’re reading the omnibus, but Bruce Wayne‘s bodyguard, Sasha Bordeaux, plays a major role in the Detective Comics issues leading up to the murder, but is more or less sidelined and forgotten until the last few issues of the story once she is incarcerated. It felt like they were really trying to build her character up into something, but the way her story plays out doesn’t really feel satisfying. If you just read the omni without the Detective Comics issues leading up to the murder, I imagine her character feels out of place.

The reveal of the actual murderer was a character I did not anticipate, but does logically make sense within the story and was a pretty satisfying twist. However, if you haven’t read No Man’s Land, it will probably fall flat. After the true murderer is revealed, the epilogue issues wrapped up the story in a way that felt complete and cohesive, more so than the middle act.

Ultimately, the story ends where it should’ve started, with Bruce on good terms with a unified bat family. Vesper Fairchild’s murder and, this whole event, is more or less forgotten in continuity, making this whole storyline feel like a farce, albeit one with some fun moments.

As an aside, this saga goes up to Batman 607, and 608 is the start of Hush. After such a prolonged, convoluted, and interconnected event, the relatively tight plotting and phenomenal artwork of Hush must’ve seemed like a breath of fresh air and great jumping on point for new readers, which Murder/ Fugitive certainly isn’t. Though Hush catches a lot of flak these days, reading the murderer/ fugitive storyline gave me a whole new appreciation for it.

Final Thoughts

Though it may sound like I dislike this run pretty strongly, that’s actually not the case. It’s a serviceable run that feels like it’s trying to recapture the greatness of the 90’s era Batman without the finesse that made those stories so compelling, while at the same time pivoting away from the arguably more interesting noir direction of the New Gotham era. While I would say it’s disappointing in comparison to what came before, it’s certainly not the worst comic I’ve ever read.

For those who just own the Murder/ Fugitive omni, an inevitable New Gotham omni will make the story more enjoyable, but I don’t think the quality of the story is enough to justify paying absurd amounts for the Eaglemoss editions on the secondary market, even if the connecting spines are hella cool.

Eaglemoss New Gotham issues: 7/10
Murderer/ Fugitive issues: 5.5/10
Final Rating: 6/10

Pre-Reading

Nothing! This is a standalone miniseries that basically just requires a surface-level knowledge of who Supergirl is. I do think that this makes for a more interesting read alongside King’s Superman: Up in the Sky, but they aren’t connected.

Story

Tom King can be divisive, but this was a great read, and seems to work both as a canon or non-canon story better than a lot of his miniseries. The basic premise is Supergirl helping a young girl track down a man called Krem of the Yellow Hills, who both killed the girl’s father and poisoned Krypto. The girl, Ruthye, serves as the series narrator and is determined to execute Krem once he is found. It is ultimately a story about mercy, if not forgiveness, and navigating the complex emotions that accompany loss.

It feels almost like like a companion piece to Superman: Up in the Sky, in that both feature a member of the house of El on an intergalactic mission to save the life or soul of a single person. In both stories, there is an overarching plot, but each individual issue works in its own to explore the ideals of the character. Having read both, it’s interesting to see where the differences in characterization lie. While there is an innate sense of heroism to both characters, there is a stoic and unyielding hopefulness to Superman, while Supergirl feels more raw and, in a lot of ways, more human. She is a character marked by trauma and loss, but not consumed by it.

For anyone who’s ever read the work of Tom King, themes of trauma and the fallout of senseless violence are certainly not new ground for him to explore, but work exceptionally well here. While I am, admittedly, generally a fan of King’s work, I can also appreciate how frustrating it can be when he completely changes someone’s characterization to suit a miniseries, something that is probably most egregious in Strange Adventures. In the case of Supergirl, however, the core of her person remains intact, and you never really question whether she is a good person. Rather than making her jaded and cynical, the trauma of losing her home provides context to why she values life. Chapter 6 provides a retelling of krypton’s destruction, and what happened to Supergirl and her family afterwards. This was, for me, the most powerful issue in the series, and it’s emotional heart, capturing the struggle and desperation of someone trying not to lose everything they’ve ever cared about.

The narrative structure is interesting, with the narration boxes being excerpts from a manuscript that Ruthye has written about her journey with Supergirl many years after the events of the story. Ruthye’s narration is fairly flowery, but I think that makes it feel appropriately alien and makes it feel distinct from King’s other work.

There are times, especially at the end, where Ruthye’s narration differs from the events being depicted, which mostly serves as a clever narrative trick to explain the story’s conclusion, but I also took as a subtle commentary on the difference between someone’s reputation and true nature. People being overshadowed by reputations is something that comes up throughout the book, with Supergirl constantly contending with Superman’s reputation, people making assumptions about Ruthye because she is from a poor agrarian community, and Ruthye seeing Krem as this ultimate source of evil and brutality, only to have his smallness and pettiness revealed in the end.

Art

The art here by Bilquis Evely and Matheus Lopes is beautiful and certainly deserves being mentioned. There is both a grace and strength to the line work that has an almost fairytale-like quality to it that plays well off of Ruthye’s narrative voice. Supergirl feels strong and feminine without being sexualized, while Krem looks both relatively normal, yet carries an air of intimidation. In addition to each character having a distinct and consistent look, the locations feel unique, immersive and lived-in. I especially like her interpretation of Krypton, or at least what we briefly see of its architecture and interior spaces.

Lopes’s coloring also deserves a shout out. While pencils often get a lot of the praise in comics, the colors of this book established the tone for each scene. The use of light and color gradients ranges from ethereal and dreamlike, to dark and grimy, to cold and distant. Though I typically try to avoid double dipping, I would probably pick this up in an absolute, despite owning the deluxe edition.

Final Thoughts

Ultimately, this is up there with my favorite works by Tom King, and I would place it on the same level as Mr. Miracle and the Sheriff of Babylon. It is both an excellent character study and modern interpretation of Supergirl, highlights her differences from Superman, and is able to explore themes of trauma and loss without feeling stale.

My threshold for giving out a “perfect score” is pretty high, but this one reached it for me. If you absolutely loathe Tom King, your mileage may vary, but at the very least, it’s worth checking out.

Final Rating: 10/10

Pre-Reading

None! This is a standalone story that exists in its own universe.

Story

This was a fantastic read and is honestly better than it has any right to be, considering that it’s a story about indigenous people written by a white dude from Alabama. Set on a reservation in South Dakota, Scalped tells the story of Dashiell Bad Horse, a young undercover FBI agent who returns home to investigate tribal chief Lincoln Red Crow as he plans to open a casino on the reservation, all the while confronting his past, family legacy, and heritage. It’s a gritty crime noir story that is exceptionally well-done; I would say it’s on par with Criminal by Brubaker and Phillips and strikes a similar tone. The series flirts with the supernatural, but in a way that is intentionally ambiguous, almost like HBO’s True Detective (the Night Country season especially.)

One thing this series does particularly well is balance beauty and brutality. There are both moments of violence that are hard to watch and moments of genuine warmth and love. Issue 35, in particular, is an exceptional single issue. Titled “Listening to the Earth Turn,” it follows an elderly couple and has little to do with the overarching plot, but captures both desolation and desperation of the rez, but also the warmth and grit of its inhabitants. While making time for stories like this does slow the overall pace of the narrative, it helps the world to feel more fully formed and creates a deeper sense of pathos.

As is common in noir series, the main protagonist, Dash, is deeply flawed, and honestly kind of a shitty person, living a life of nice and toxicity while working on the side of the law (though even the nobility of this becomes more murky as the series progresses).

Outside of Dash, none of the main characters are really without flaw, but it’s the lack of a definitive heroic figure helps the story to feel more nuanced and allows you to more easily see the perspective of different characters. Virtually every side character gets at least an issue dedicated to them that gives a better appreciation for their motivations, which stops anyone from feeling like a mustache-twirling villain.

The series is peppered with well-placed flashback issues that slowly peel back the mystery of a double murder of FBI agents in the 70s, and as more is revealed, you find your perceptions of characters, and the validity of their motivations, changing.

The more I reflect on him, the more Lincoln Red Crow is becoming one of my favorite comic characters. He’s so complicated and exists as a man of contradictions: traditionalist idealism forced into pragmatic survival; a man who loves his people, but sho provides them vices that keep them downtrodden; outwardly powerful, yet lacking the conviction to carry Gina’s soul. There are times when he seems reprehensible, times when you root for him, and times were you just feel bad for him.

Sustaining a single compelling noir mystery for 60 issues is truly impressive, though the pacing of the last arc does feel a little wonky, almost like there was a rush to tie up loose ends. Though everyone’s endpoint was satisfying, Dash being in a relationship with Maggie felt like it came out of nowhere, especially when compared to other characters like Red Crow or Gina. While she thematically represents him embracing his heritage, I didn’t feel any emotional weight behind their scenes together. Perhaps if they had more of a backstory or their relationship had been foreshadowed, it would have felt more impactful. Overall, this is a very minor point of contention in otherwise exceptional story.

Final Thoughts

Rating: 9.5/10

This is a great read, and an easy recommendation for anyone who likes grounded stories, noir mysteries, anything by Brubaker/ Phillips, or fans of True Detective. Even after the mysteries have been revealed, the depth of characterization makes this a very re-readable series.

First things first- this was a lot of fun. It felt fresh, but at the same time, really understands the core of Spider-Man. It’s not a perfect run, but it’s better than most modern Spidey.

Pre-Reading

Realistically, you could go into this just knowing the basics of Spider-Man lore. I do think that having a greater appreciation for Peter Parker as Spider-Man enriches the experience, but this is pretty new-reader friendly. Reading “Ends of the Earth” beforehand would probably provide some context about why Doc Ock’s body is in the state it’s in, but this omni does a good enough job of bringing you up to speed.

Story

Superhero deconstruction and deconstruction/ reconstruction arcs have been a popular theme in superhero comics for the past several decades to the point where it can sometimes seem like it’s a well that’s visited too often. Though easily overdone, when done well, stories such as these can cut to the core of a character and remind you why you fell in love with them in the first place.

The Superior Spider-Man run isn’t the first time Spidey has gone through an arc like this. When I was reading this omni, it reminded me thematically of Kraven’s Last Hunt. In both instances, a villain defeated Spider-Man and assumed his mantle as a way of proving that they could be a better version of him, revealing only in their failures and shortcomings what makes Spider-Man special. Comparing the two, I found that Kraven’s Last Hunt focused on the will and perseverance of Peter, while Superior Spider-Man focused on his humanity.

The first issue was excellent, and the twist ending really caught me off-guard. Having not read any of Slott’s previous work on Spider-Man, I thought he just had a weird voice for Pete, but upon immediately re-reading that issue, I found myself smiling at the subtle bits of foreshadowing.

Throughout the run, it was interesting to see how Otto balanced the dual-identity dynamic differently than Pete. He truly does seem to care for Anna Maria, and watching their relationship develop went a long way in humanizing him. The rest of his relationships and social interactions with Pete’s classic supporting cast seem more like strained obligations or a means to satisfy his ego, while in classic Spider-Man stories, it’s these interactions that can often be more interesting than the villain of the week.

In terms of villains, I appreciate that he actually went up against legit villains like Venom, Vulture, Hobgoblin, and Green Goblin, while interacting with characters like the Avengers and Spider-Man 2099. It added a level of weight to the run that these deconstruction/ reconstruction stories can sometimes lack *cough* Batman: Knightquest *cough.* when pitted against some of the heavier hitters, was also fitting that Otto was ultimately undone by his own arrogance. In trying to streamline justice, he disregarded the “friendly neighborhood” aspect of Spider-Man, creating the opportunity for Norman Osborn to make his move. One of my favorite moments of the run comes at the end. It was just a single panel, when Norman realizes Peter is back in the suit, his eyes slightly narrow as he states “it’s you,” elegantly conveying 50 years of animosity.

That is not to say, however, that I found the book completely without fault. While Otto and Pete were handled well, some seemed to act out of character simply to drive the plot forward. The Avengers seemed way to quick to hand-wave away Otto’s actions as Spider-Man because they ran a few tests, and they just accept that a guy they have known for many years is now fighting his teammates, talking differently, and killing villains. With all of the wild super science they’ve seen over the years, I find it hard to believe that no one thought of a body swap, or at least a clone.

There’s also a scene from issue 23 with Aunt May that stuck with me, and not in a good way. Almost immediately after meeting Otto’s girlfriend, Anna Maria, who is a little person, she starts asking about grandchildren, and expresses concerns that they may inherit Anna Maria’s dwarfism. It was a strange scene that made Aunt May seem uncharacteristically judgmental while adding little to the plot outside of a scene in the next issue of Otto yelling at her for this. This feels like something that could have been decompressed and explored more. Parents expressing reservations about their children’s partners is something that’s super relatable, but nothing really comes of this. If the point of the interaction was to show that Otto is more confrontational than Peter, more work could’ve been done to paint May in a sympathetic light. Again, it was a pretty minor plot point, but really stuck out to me, especially in comparison to the quality of the rest of the run.

I did like the Goblin Nation arc that finished off the run, but it almost felt like there was a rush to wrap up the Superior storyline, with Peter returning and ending the conflict over the course of a single issue because Norman hadn’t accounted for his return and didn’t have a contingency plan for a guy he’s fought dozens of times. And then, after briefly meeting with Aunt May and MJ, the omni just ends, leaving several major thematic plot points just dangling. I really would’ve appreciated the inclusion of whichever issues (or even just excerpts) show how Peter reconciled with the Avengers, and more importantly, what happened between Anna Maria and him. It would’ve served as a nice epilogue to the Superior storyline, and seeing how the omni is only 960 pages, certainly would have fit

Art

To briefly touch on the art, it was kind of a mixed bag for me. The run rotates between Ryan Stegman, Humberto Ramos, and Giuseppe Camuncoli, and while I wouldn’t say any of it it bad, Ramos’s stylization just didn’t resonate with me the way Stegman and Camuncoli’s art did, especially with civilian or unmasked characters. There’s an almost anime-like quality to his faces that feels out of place to me, but if that’s your thing, your mileage will probably vary quite a bit.

The Superior suit, however, is awesome. It’s just different enough from the standard suit to stand out, and the sharper angles convey aggression well. The prominence of the black and the dark eyes make him feel distant and less human, but it’s still easy to identify as Spider-Man. This is easily my favorite variant Spidey suit, and like the Superior Spider-Man arc itself, a welcome addition to the mythos

Final Rating: 8.5/10

To avoid burying the lead, I’ll just say that this was an outstanding run, and is my favorite read of the year so far. It is, however, unbridled Grant Morrison, which is not for everyone.

Pre-Reading

Though it begins with issue 19, no pre-reading is really necessary. It begins directly after the “Invasion” event, but does truly feel like a fresh start, and everything you need to know about the characters is explained as the first arc unfolds.

The Story

I usually try to avoid doing blow-by-blow recaps when I review, and in the instance of Doom Patrol, I don’t even know that it would be particularly helpful, as the plot is often a vehicle for character explorations and philosophical musings. Despite being nearly 40 years old, it holds up very well today, and I imagine would have felt tremendously groundbreaking at the time. It does, however, have a very different feel to modern “widescreen” comics, with the stories feeling dense and multilayered. This isn’t really a book I would recommend trying to binge, but rather one that is meant to be savored.

Where this run shines the most is it’s creativity. I can’t really think of a modern run by DC or Marvel where essentially every villain was an original character, but didn’t feel forced or derivative. Instead of traditional supervillains, their first foes are the Scissormen, denizens of an imaginary city that was accidentally created by a group of philosophers. They are ultimately defeated when their existence is found to be predicated on a contradiction, meaning they cannot exist, and so they simply cease to be.

The stories only get weirder and more absurd from here, with various issues and arcs exploring themes of identity, mental health, sexuality, the facade of normalcy, the absurdity of war, and the power of dreams and belief. Along the way, the team is joined by others including Danny the Street, a sentient transgender street, Flex Mentallo, a superpowered riff on Charles Atlas, and Willoughby Kipling, a legally-distinct John Constantine.

Though Morrison’s work is often dense and a bit wacky, there is a rawness and experimental nature here that I don’t think is quite as apparent in their more mainstream runs like Batman and All Star Superman, which were written at a time when Morrison’s tropes had almost become their own brand. That’s not to throw any shade at either of those runs, as I like them both tremendously, but Doom Patrol can feel like a sandbox for Morrison to play with concepts in the best way possible.

Though the story does take place within the mainline DC universe, the Doom Patrol feels quite insulated from outside characters and teams (aside from a brief appearance by the Justice League). I think this helps with flow and immersion in the story in a way we don’t really get with more modern runs, where characters are dragged into a crossover every 12 issues.

Two standout single issues weee 30 and 63 . Issue 30, “Going Underground,” presented nuanced take on dissociative identity disorder as a trauma response. I appreciated that the superheroics were sidelined in favor of a relatively mature conversation about mental health. Though focusing on the character of Crazy Jane, this issue felt especially poignant, as the trauma and isolation she experiences could be applied to the rest of the team to varying degrees.

These themes are again echoed in issue 63, “the Empire of Chairs“ which serves to cap-off the series in a way that feels as definitive as it is beautiful. Much like their run on Animal Man, Morrison’s ending to Doom Patrol truly feels final. The characters obviously continue, but one could easily stop here and feel satisfied. I actually find myself hesitant to read Pollock’s run, as Morrison’s final pages made me pause and reflect not just on the series, but on my life, in a way that few books do.

This isn’t just a great comic, it’s a testament to what the medium can do.

Final Rating: 10/10