Spoiler Reviews of Comics released April 25th, 2012

Ultimate Comics Ultimates 9:  10/10

The Marvel Universe's more movie-like parallel dimension known as the Ultimate Universe (designate 1610) has recently undergone radical shifts. Since most mutants were put in special holding camps and poor Spider Man died, you'd think the world of heroes would get a breather. Instead, things just seem to get progressively more desperate and fast paced.  First, it turns out that in Earth 1610 the American government created mutants, and Wolverine was patient zero. When a Southeast Asian republic does some superhuman tinkering of their own, superhumans known as the People arise. Housed in the Eternal City of Tian, a concept arising from Warren Ellis' run on Astonishing X-Men, these peaceable beings are ruled by Zorn and Xorn, the equivalent of humanoid black hole and sun, respectively. Meanwhile, the return of a severely twisted Reed Richards hearkens the destruction of ALL ASGARDIAN GODS BUT THOR, the creation of The City and the Children of Tomorrow.  With Captain America quitting, Iron Man's brain cancer getting worse, and Thor de-powered, things for the Ultimates do not look their best, especially since the evil Reed Richards has a thousand years of evolution on his side. The President of the United States sends The Hulk into The City to destroy it, then follows that up with every nuclear weapon in the country's arsenal.  To be fair, The City HAD absorbed most of Europe.  Issue 9 of Ultimate Comics Ultimates gives us a confrontation between the Children and the People, as well as Reed Richard's counterstrike.   Jonathan Hickman's genius storytelling and Esad Ribic's beautiful artwork are complimented by some of the industry's very best color work, courtesy of Dean White.

Let's review: Reed Richards has now killed all Asgardian gods AND America.

FF 17: 9.5/10

In recent issues of Fantastic Four, and the captivating spin-off, FF, we've seen a storyline that burned slow and then white hot.  In a last stand protecting a gate from the hordes of the Negative Zone, Johnny Storm, the Human Torch, was killed.  Using um, special worms, the villain Annihilus resurrected him and set him to work as a gladiator slave.  He earned the respect of the Inhuman Light Brigade and saved the planet from a Kree invasion upon his return, thanks to his brand new cosmic control rod stolen from Annihilus. Now, the day is saved. With this issue of FF, we find that he's moved in with his replacement on the Fantastic Four, none other than Peter Parker, Spider Man.  This issue is a welcome comedic relief from the vast, extensive, and compelling storylines that have been a mainstay in FF almost since the beginning of the series, originally feeling like a tangential overflow for Hickman's ideas.  The idea of Peter Parker and Johnny Storm being roommates is the first truly good thing to come about as a direct result of retconning Peter's marriage to Mary Jane out of existence.  She makes an appearance this issue, actually.  As usual, Jonathan Hickman's script is a masterpiece with each page, and Nick Dragotta's powers with a pencil give perfect expression to this comic.  Just... be careful with the last page. It'll get you.

It's official. Peter Parker getting Inhuman tongue action is a win.

Green Lantern: New Guardians 8: 8.5/10

This issue of New Guardians seems to be a meeting point for all of DC's Lantern book plotlines.  Since Sinestro and Hal Jordan recently wiped out the Yellow Lanterns in Green Lantern, and it seems as if the Guardians of the Universe are burning emotionless evil schemes at both ends by promoting Guy Gardener in Green Lantern Corps, GL:NG seems to be the side-quest that could become a forerunner for grander things.  This issue splits between Yellow Corpsman Arkillo's discovery of Sinestro's betrayal and the other Lantern's various allegiances and drives as they prepare to fight the Orange Lantern Larfleeze for a cosmic angel that stomped them all last issue.  The series shows great promise, but occasionally, with so many balls in the air, the reader might lose their way.  Fortunately, if you're bothering to read this series in the first place, you're either a Kyle Rayner fan or a big Lantern series buff already.  In either of those cases, this series will serve you well.  Tony Bedard and Tyler Kirkham make an excellent team, as ever.

Justice League Dark 8: 8/10 &  I, Vampire 8:  9/10

Personally, I felt that the starting point with Justice League Dark seemed like it would be pretty solid, in the long run.  The mystic pastiche approach of the team was offbeat and quirky, and their missions would be all the dark side of DC that can't be approached by standard heroes like the Justice League, or even the big screen ones like Stormwatch.  With the recent crossover with the less compelling (but beautifully drawn) I, Vampire, the primordial vampire Cain arises to wrest the mantle of Grand Vampire King and lay waste to humanity, starting with Gotham.  The issue falls somewhat flat, however. The side story of Shade the Changing Man potentially hints at a peek at the Doctor's Dreamtime?  It will be interesting when Justice League Dark gets back on its own track.  Peter Milligan's script and Daniel Sampere's art are still sharp, but overall the story feels less compelling and more scattered than I would have liked.  I, Vampire, concluding the story with a resurrection, feels more comfortable under Joshua Wade Fialkov's writing, and of course Andrea Sorentino's beautiful art. 

Superman 8: 7.5/10

We'll conclude these reviews with a bit of a clunker.  After DC fused with Wildstorm, villains and heroes from the Wildstorm stable emerged in the new universe, many centered around the new (to DC) race of evil aliens known as the Daemonites.  Helspont, a Daemonite villain from the old WildC.A.Ts days, fell out of a prison on Stormwatch's space station after a recent explosion.  Superman is drawn to him, and he alternates, for nearly two full issues, between talking the Man of Steel to death or crushing him under a rock.  Even the alternate dream sequence felt like a less-weird Morrison venture.  I get what it's going for, but it doesn't work for me.  The new DC Universe is still gathering steam, in some places, and this Superman title has been one of those.  Dan Jurgen's artwork seems to get stiffer by the issue, and Keith Giffen's script calls for a lot of standing around and talking.  Sure, Helspont is attempting to lure Kal to the dark side, and yes, there are fun asides where Louis Lane's sister is not getting picked up at the airport like Clark promised, and Jimmy Olson's house is being fumigated, but these all feel like very well worn territory already, with only a few glimmers of something fresh in store, down the road.  Overall, a pretty disappointing issue, but perhaps it lays the groundwork for something more engaging in the future, since Giffen has often been known to play the "long game" with some plot-threads, and as both he and Jurgens are very talented, this could simply be a temporary slump or editorial quagmire. 

A Quick Review of Neil Gaiman's Episode of Dr. Who

Before we start, it is my duty to inform those of you not already aware that The Sandman is to comics as Shakespeare is to literature, as much as Watchmen is the comic geek's Bible.

Sandman's writer Neil Gaiman is a household name, for all intents and purposes, isn't he?  Besides numerous kid/teen-friendly novels, a collaboration concerning the Apocalypse co-written with Terry Pratchett, he's also the writer for a plethora of comic mini-projects, finds the time to co-ordinate a love affair with Amanda Palmer on Twitter, a contentious court battle with hotshot douche Spawn magnate Todd McFarlane, a deep and abiding friendship with Tori Amos, but also is attentive to his blogs, and his NPR interviews, and much much more.

Maybe you saw Coraline, or less likely, Mirrormask? Mr. Gaiman does in fact moves more seamlessly between mediums than most comic book writers, the television series Lost being an example of an exception, where Marvel scribe Brian K. Vaughan could really express his talent for easy character development on a sensational prime-time phenomenon writ-overblown.  So it's not easy to sum up how Gaiman fits perfectly in any one niche, but by the very nature of having collaborated with so many brilliant people, he exudes success.  It drips from him and his work as honey from a beehive.  He can very nearly do no wrong, so far as a portion of the fanboy population is concerned, and should get an award every single year for something, anything, whatever.

It comes down to the fact that he's a solid writer and observant to the nature of human beings, which might arise from his origins as a journalist.  His sense of plot and pacing is often perfect, his characters project honest intent in their given archetype, regardless of whatever that may be.  Even when he's coasting, as in the Marvel project 1602, he's triple the talent of most hacks or editor-harried stable-boys working the trenches.  It is this critic's opinion that if the world at large were able to see full uncut trade paperback versions of Miracleman (recently hints of this have been emerging, with Marvel releasing oldschool pulpers of that title after finally wrangling the rights from aforementioned douche McFarlane), which he took over after Alan Moore's ground-breaking work, they would see even there the elegance of his earlier efforts, before the Major Phenomenon that would become his run on The Sandman, ostensibly his crown jewel of accomplishments (being an import from the U.K., after all, imported over the pond like so many of his contemporary and wildly successful comic book scribes).

Perhaps it seems like I am gushing and working out Gaiman's history in toto, needlessly.  Rather, all of this near-fellatio assessment prefaces an open-ended appraisal of an episode that Gaiman wrote for the "6th season" (actually, post ret-conning, following a hiatus, factoring in radio-serials, more like the 27th or 30th) of the BBC series Dr. Who, aptly titled "The Doctor's Wife".

[To those unfamiliar with Dr. Who, f you get the chance, give it a shot.  Start with Season Five if you want to start on the newest incarnation or, if you want a real treat and some almost indigestible camp, start from season one, then shortly thereafter observe the glory days of David Tennant in the role he wished for as a young child and received as a rich reward, though to reinforce that sense of camp, it should be said his first action as the Doctor was a scene in which he started out fighting a Christmas tree. All you need to know going in is that the Doctor is a Time Lord.  The Time Lords as an ancient cosmic race are dead, save him.  The Doctor sent them all to "Hell" when they threatened to destroy the cosmos in their war with the Daleks. Twice.  He travels in a time/space-traveling police box. Let's not even begin to get into the time he killed Satan.]

The episode in question is what Dungeonmasters would likely refer to as a side-quest in a demi-plane. The Doctor's mode of conveyance, the TARDIS (an acronym: Time and Relative Dimension In Space, for the uninitiated), has picked up a distress signal from a fellow Time Lord named The Corsair.  After briefly relating that they knew each other intimately, The Doctor locks in and follows the distress beacon (dragging along a recently-wed couple pivotal to the audience's engagement of the story, one being his faithful companion Amy Pond, the other Rory Williams) they end up in what would be referred to by some as a pocket dimension, or bubble sticking to a bubble, as The Doctor puts it, although not at all, where an asteroid is inhabited by three badly stitched and oddly familial characters, Auntie, Uncle,  and Nephew (an Ood).

Now, postponing our shot at the plot for the moment, let's look at structure. Gaiman's obviously a longtime fan of the series, as many "inside joke" throwaway lines in this episode indicate. Since he's accustomed to working within the constraints of mainstream comics, where short and punchy and to the point is the name of the game still, but always keeping with a rough sense of continuity and content and relevance (though not necessarily canon). 

The plot involves another old Dungeonmaster trope, and somewhat more dialogued than Lost's take, the Sentient Island, or in this case, Sentient Asteroid, referred to as House, collecting the refuse of the universe, luring in and trapping Time Lords for the occasional snack of their variations of the TARDIS, itself containing a Time Vortex which gives off energies for said consumption.  Easy enough, but in order to do so, the Asteroid in question transfers the "consciousness" inhabiting the TARDIS into a woman suspiciously similar in appearance to Helena Bonnam Carter.  It makes sense to draw the connection. The same people consuming The Sandman series in its time of serialization and after were the precise sort to enjoy something like Edward Scissorhands or The Nightmare before Christmas, produced by Tim Burton, who of course went on to marry HBC.  So-called Nerd Culture recognizes these things, however subtle or unconscious.

The syntax of the inhabited subject's dialogue/running monologue is yet another example of Gaiman moving fluidly with language.  Her phrases are garbled with clips of the future, the present, and hints at the next few episodes.  Overall she speaks as a time in relative dimension in space construct inhabiting a human host should, that is, confused and confusing.  The TARDIS is not accustomed to talking, in the strictest sense, nor will it be in future episodes (that would spoil things).

We have heft in all characters, we have a plot that carries itself in the one-shot comfortably without the cliffhanger notches so common in Dr. Who.  Amy Pond and the erstwhile husband Rory go back to the TARDIS for the Doctor's sonic screwdriver, then are promptly  taken away in a swirl of green mist by House, eager to be off after realizing no more Time Lords and their TARDISes will be arriving.  After taking over, House poses the question to them "Why don't I just kill you right now?"  Here it is important to note that Gaiman is directly lifting a cue from The Arabian Nights, wherein puny characters are confronted with an entity of severe power (much as a djinni) and must be quick-witted in order to survive.   Effectively Amy's response is "It won't be fun to kill us immediately."  This buys her and Rory time as they run through the presumably near-infinite structure of the TARDIS (what does "bigger on the inside" mean?).  Of course House can play with their senses, shift bits of the TARDIS through space and time, and again Gaiman is clever in how he presents this within the constrains of the medium and characterization.  House blinds them, separates them, presents illusions in which Rory dies, and so forth.  Basically runs Amy and Rory ragged.

Meanwhile the Doctor and his "Wife" are having their first real conversation, her half non-linear and kooky.  Turns out he calls her "Sexy" when they are alone, and that's her chosen name.  To get after the TARDIS/House they need to jury-rig a new TARDIS composed of the husks left over by House after his consumption of them.  Effectively chasing a prize rooster out of the hen-house with an animated pile of chicken bones. Okay, not at all like that.  But here we have a grandiosity of parallel "coolness" playing well with the running power of the Doctor's mythology.  Some Dr. Who episodes are formulaic (the "little kid as secret alien" has played out well repeatedly over the years) but this particular one is fresh and distinct.  The calls for sets and special effects to pull this episode off without a hint of hokiness (okay, maybe just a hint) make for good television.  Somewhat sentimental, sure, but not too contrived that repeated viewings will ruin the effect.  On the contrary, multiple viewings of this episode will enhance the series as a whole.  It could be, in a fashion, viewed as an apocryphal episode. Somewhat disposable in the long run, but overall enhancing the ongoing mythos.

To give a direct play-by-play of the plot would also become tedious.  Needless to say, there are elements of the story I am not and will not explore, but to sum up, we get a better sense of the bond and history between the TARDIS and the Doctor (we can extrapolate from their dialogue that he "stole" her from a museum, while she maintains that she "stole" him) and safely note that every single episode in which the TARDIS transports them into a crazy situation beyond the Doctor's intent is a textured Deus Ex Machina ("I always took you where you needed to be," she tells him). 

 Of course they survive. Of course they get away.  The manner in which all this happens is a natural matter of course.  Gaiman respects each character he inhabits and conjures, as a good wordsmith should.  Should Dr. Who get accolades for episodes like this? Absolutely. It's well in keeping with the mythology of the storyline, adds positive aspects to the running narrative, specifically in the realm of character, the Doctor and the TARDIS are drawn into a more intimate relationship, for the first time ever in decades of the series run... I would hazard to say that making Neil Gaiman head writer for the series, if he was so-inclined and well-disposed, to have him structure not just an episode but an entire season, would give the whole series as stark shot in the arm, bringing the best of the comic world to the best of the science-fiction/fantasy television world, a space that seems more barren and sterile with series such as Fringe, more crude and nonsensical with a series such as True Blood, and likely more contrived and dare I say it hokey with certain other attempts at the genre which shall not be named.

In conclusion, let me reiterate that Neil Gaiman can do no wrong, so far as the evidence he has provided us thus far infers.  He shines well selectively and within certain subjects.  I would embrace any further episodes of any show he deemed worthy of his talents, but am especially enamored of his work with the mythology of Dr. Who in "The Doctor's Wife".  Let's give him a hand folks. No, seriously. Standing ovation.  Twitter-bomb him.  Call for an encore.