The obligatory "Before Watchmen" reaction post

Might as well get this one out of the way.

The story is splattered all over the internet this morning, including on DC's official blog, The Source, (which appears to be unable to deal with the heavy traffic as I write this), various mainstream entertainment news sites and the usual suspects in the comics web. But in case you haven't heard, it boils down to this: DC is releasing a series of miniseries collectively called "Before Watchmen" (I guess they couldn't come up with anything better than an obvious working title) by various writers and artists. Each series focuses on a different character from the original series/graphic novel by Alan Moore and Dave Gibbons. Among the creators involved are Brian Azzarello, J. Michael Straczynski, Darwyn Cooke and Amanda Conner.

Here's a quote from the announcement on The Source:

“It’s our responsibility as publishers to find new ways to keep all of our characters relevant,” said DC Entertainment Co-Publishers Dan DiDio and Jim Lee. “After twenty five years, the Watchmen are classic characters whose time has come for new stories to be told. We sought out the best writers and artists in the industry to build on the complex mythology of the original.”

It's times like these that I'm so happy I decided to name this blog "Irrelevant Comics." I'm so glad that DiDio and Lee hired JMS to make this classic work "relevant" again. Remember when he was hired to make Superman relevant? That was the time Superman went on a long, boring walk across America where nothing happened and nobody gave a shit. Not even JMS, apparently, since he couldn't be bothered to finish it.

Yeah, it's pretty depressing that JMS is considered one of the "best writers in the industry," but it's not like it makes a big difference to me in the end, since I wasn't planning on reading these books anyway.

What I find more upsetting about the announcement is the confirmation of Darwyn Cooke's involvement in the project. Other than Amanda Connor, he's the only creator involved I really give a shit about, and sadly I am going to find it incredibly difficult to take him seriously after this. Remember this video?

In it, Cooke talks about how he doesn't plan to return to superhero comics "in any big way" (what could be bigger than a Watchmen prequel?!), at least not until the industry stops "catering to the perverted needs of 45-year-old men."

I remember when this video was first posted, a lot of people were upset about his comment on lesbian heroes. It bothered me too, but I chose to give him the benefit of the doubt at the time because I still had respect for him as a creator and thought his point was mostly about superhero comics not being for kids anymore. (Who says lesbian characters can't be for kids? But let's not get into that right now.)

But now that we know he's a hypocrite and a profiteer? I'm not feeling so generous. Watchmen (along with Frank Miller's Batman work in the 1980s) is one of the seminal works responsible for the "maturing" of superhero comics' content. It features graphic violence, foul language, sex and even rape - all the things Cooke claims have no place in superhero comics. So what the fuck?

That DC would eventually go back to milk the Watchmen cash cow seemed like an inevitability. The question was when it and how it would happen. And with or without Alan Moore's blessings. There's a lot of history here, and I'm not sure there's much point in me going over it again. In a nutshell, relations between Moore and DC have been bad ever since he stopped working for them, and a lot of it was directly related who owns the rights to these characters.

My friend and fellow blogger Alan David Doane has written a very persuasive short piece on why DC's decision to go ahead with the Watchmen prequels despite Alan Moore's objections is (in his opinion) unethical. You can read it here, and if you agree with it you can also sign the petition.

I agree with a lot of what that petition says, and that's why I'm sharing it here and encouraging people to read it and decide for themselves. Personally, I don't feel strongly enough about it to add my name to the list. I think the prequels are in very poor taste. I think Alan Moore got the shitty end of the stick. But it's also not that different from the way Marvel treated Kirby, or the way DC treated Siegel and Shuster. I'm not saying that two or three wrongs make a right, or that we should ignore one injustice because there are other injustices out there. It's just that I've realized and more or less come to terms with the fact that DC and Marvel are big, ugly, profit-driven corporations, which is pretty much synonymous with unethical behaviour. What they're doing here is ugly, but so is everything else they do. And if I'm going to start signing petitions over this case, then I might as well stop supporting them completely and never buy another one of their books, or else I'm going to feel like a total hypocrite.

That's just my take on it. I think being a fan of (or consumer of) any mass entertainment necessarily involves a certain amount of cognitive dissonance and ethical negotiations with oneself. I feel the same way about television and Hollywood and video games. Hell, I feel that way about EVERYTHING I spend my money on, since it's all part of a giant system I am generally opposed to. (Call it capitalism, I suppose.) Again, I'm not saying the way to deal with these concerns is to shove them at the bottom of your psyche and ignore them. It's important to be aware of these things that make us uncomfortable, and to think and write and talk about them, and whenever possible try to fight them. And if you decide that the best way to do this is for you to sign the petition, then sign it. For me, it isn't.

(Whoa! Did I ever get side-tracked, there!)

I'm not going to buy any of these Watchmen prequels, and I feel this is the best way to send a message to DC. A few hundred names on a petition is not going to do much. The only thing that's going to make a difference at the end of the day is whether the books sell well or not.

And here comes the depressing part: Of course they're going to sell well. They're going to be at the top of the charts and (like the New 52) they will be deemed a success. Before the books come out, Dan DiDio is going to be quoted saying he's puzzled that fans are reacting negatively without having read the books. Guaranteed. And then after the books have come out, if anybody points out that they sucked (after having read them), he's going to point out that they were best-sellers, so obviously the opinion of that reader doesn't matter.

Notice the catch-22 here? Our opinion doesn't matter until we've bought and read the book. And once we've bought and read the book, our opinion doesn't matter because we've already paid for it.

J. Michael Straczynski confirms he never gave a shit about Superman or Wonder Woman

On Facebook, in response to the announcement that DC is rebooting it's entire line of comics in September:

When Dan DiDio comes out to the West Coast, we tend to get a bite for dinner to discuss projects, ideas, books and just hang. Dan is a great guy and an energetic speaker, chockful of ideas and aspirations for DC. As part of that, he shared repeatedly on and off for really more than a year his dream of rebooting the DCU and starting over.

So I felt confident that it was coming soon (which is one reason why I felt there wouldn't be a problem in the long run leaving the monthly books, since most of the things done in Superman and Wonder Woman would be erased by the reboot anyway, so ultimately it didn't matter whether I stayed or left. I just couldn't say anything at the time because I wanted to respect Dan's privacy and his desire to do what he thought was right when he thought it was right to do it.

(Sorry, he left that parenthesis open, not me.)

What I take from this is that he's confirming what most people already suspected when he announced he was quitting both books mid-story: that he never really gave a shit about them in the first place. This explains both why they weren't very good to begin with and why he could unceremoniously give up before even reaching their conclusions.

I think it's actually pretty shocking that he admits it so openly. Many people suspected it, but writers usually at least pretend that they care about the stories they write. I don't know he can expet to be taken seriously by fans again after this big "fuck you" to everyone who bought the books.

I always feel that when a fan starts picking up a book, especially at the beginning of a run by a new creative team, it's like signing an unwritten contract with the writer: "I agree to actually pay money for this book with the understanding that everyone involved is trying their best to tell a good story." The contract doesn't guarantee that I as a reader will like it, but it should guarantee that the writer will at least give it their best shot.

When a writer admits that none of it mattered, that he couldn't be bothered to finish what he started because he knew it would all be erased in less than a year, it violates that implicit arrangement. It's cynical. I know that the comic book companies are in the business of selling comics and their job is to do everything they can to boost sales, not to be honest with the fans. But that's the publishers. I expect more from writers. I expect them to at least believe in the stories they are telling. Even if it "doesn't matter" (come on, none of it ever really matters) they're still getting paid to tell a good story.

JMS knew the reboot was coming. Fans didn't. The books were promoted as bold new directions for the two characters. Nobody said: "Here, give us your money in exchange for this half-assed story we're going to erase from continuity as soon as it ends."

This is the kind of thing that really makes it hard to be enthusiastic about anything DC announces. It took less than a year for them to give up on the bold new direction in a Superman and Wonder Woman and start planning something else that would make it all irrelevant. What guarantee is there that the same won't be true for this new reboot? If six months into this line-wide relaunch, everyone involved starts looking forward to the next big thing and stops caring about the stories they're telling, it's going to suck. And the fans will get burned. Again.

Review: Wonder Woman #600 (+ some closing thoughts on the other two anniversary isues)

WONDER WOMAN #600

So with all the media fanfare and blogosphere kerfuffle this past week about Wonder Woman's costume redesign and origins overhaul, I feel like there's nothing left for me to say about this anniversary issue that hasn't already been said a hundred times. But I'm going to try anyway.

"Valedictorian"
by Gail Simone and George Perez.

By far the highlight of the issue, the first story is a veritable tour-de-force. The sheer number of panels is enough to give you an idea of how jam-packed with awesome this story is: Excluding the opening splash page, I counted a total of 65 panels on 6 pages!

The story starts with an epic battle featuring about 20 female super-heroes against an army of cyber-sirens who have the power to turn men into slobbering idiots. The art is simply flabbergasting. Every page is bursting with detailed action. Amidst all this chaos, Simone manages to showcase several qualities that have made Wonder Woman an icon: she's a leader, a fierce warrior, and an inspiration to her peers, which is reflected in the different ways the other characters respond to her.

The story ends with a more intimate moment between Diana and Vanessa. Unfortunately, with my limited exposure to Wonder Woman stories up to now, I don't think that final scene resonated with me to the extent that it was supposed to, but for anyone familiar with the back story, I'm sure it packs a much stronger emotional punch.

"Fuzzy Logic"
by Amanda Conner.

The next story is a team-up with Power Girl and Batgirl. It's a lot lighter in tone, and features jokes about tentacle porn and several awesome shots of Power Girl's cat. I enjoyed it.

"Firepower"
by Louise Simonson and Eduardo Pansica.

Next is a team up with Superman against some guy called Nikos Aegeus, a "terrorist organization of one, driven by green, not ideology." I have no idea where this character came from, but he doesn't really make sense to me. I just don't get why someone powerful enough to steal lightning bolts from Zeus would then waste his power shooting airplanes out of the sky and asking the U.S. government for a hundred million dollars. Why does this guy need money?

I felt pretty indifferent about this story, but there's one thing about it that really surprised the hell out of me. Check it out:



A thought balloon! I spotted at least three of them! I thought those were extinct, at least from mainstream super-hero comics, as this somewhat recent piece by Joe McCulloch at Comic Comics pointed out.

I guess DC can make an exception for Louise Simonson, because she's old school.

The last two stories + extras
by Geoff Johns, Scott Kolins, JMS, Don Kramer, and a bunch of other people

The last two stories kind of bleed into one another, ushering in J. Michael Straczynski's re-imagining of the character and featuring Jim Lee's ugly-ass retro 1990s costume redesign. I don't really have anything to say except: thumbs down.

In addition to these five stories, there's a cool introduction by Linda Carter and a bunch of pin-ups by various artists, most of which are pretty cool and generally better than the collection of rejected covers thrown together for Batman #700. One pin-up stands out as a total head-scratcher. Apparently I'm the only person on the internet who has absolutely no clue what the hell is going on in this image by Guillem March:



Anyway...

A few closing words about the three big anniversary issues that DC released last month… In my opinion, all three were kind of underwhelming. I enjoyed each of them to various degrees, but they didn't seem all that special to me the way I would expect an anniversary issue to be.

Batman #700 was probably the most epic and "significant" as far as the story goes, in the sense that it not only stands on its own quite well, but also fits into Morrison's greater arc, which we are smack in the middle of right now. However, the thrown-together feel of the art was a disappointment, especially with Frank Quitely unable to finish his section and the jarring shift to another artist in the middle of it, ruining the whole one-artist-per-time-period thing they were going for. Could they not have given him more time to finish his part? It's not like they didn't see it coming.

In contrast, both Superman and Wonder Woman relied on shorter stories by different writers. Lots of cameos, some tying up of loose ends and some foreshadowing of new stories to come. On the surface, they seemed designed to appeal to anybody interested in the characters, from older fans to curious new readers. But the way they were used to launch new arcs by super-star writer JMS made them feel more like promotional material than celebrations of iconic characters.

I felt that the 5$ cover price wasn't really justified for either of them. Yeah, I get that there was a larger page count (either because of pinup galleries or actual story pages), but so what? Part of the celebration of such landmark issues should be to give a little something back to the fans who have supported the characters and their books for all these years. Would it have killed DC to throw us a bone without jacking up the price for it? I've already said this several times, but it bears repeating: You can't really call it "bonus" material if you're charging extra for it.

Review: Superman #700

SUPERMAN #700

Superman's "giant-sized anniversary issue" doesn't suffer from any of the problems that made Batman #700 such a frustrating mess. While it carries the same inflated $5 price tag, we get a full 42 pages of story, instead of a thrown-together bullshit pin-up gallery at the end. And instead of a high-concept convoluted tale spanning past, present and future, we get three fairly simple but contrasting stories, each by a different creative team. It's not as ambitious as the Batman anniversary issue was, but it ends up being a much more satisfying read.

First story: "The Comeback"
by James Robinson and Bernard Chang

The first story is a sort of epilogue for James Robinson's epic run on Superman, which lasted a couples of years and culminated with the "War of the Supermen" (a.k.a. the 100-minute war). I haven't followed any of this sprawling epic, but I know it involved Superman going away on a big intergalactic mission for a long time and this story deals with his return after that long absence, focussing on his relationship with Lois Lane. In a long opening scene that takes up about half the story, Superman saves Lois from Parasite, punching him through several walls and knocking him unconscious. This random fight feels a bit inconsequential, as it's merely a device for setting up Lois and Superman's dramatic reunion. The second half of the story shows the couple relaxing in their apartment and talking about their relationship, and then going out for a night-time romantic fly over Metropolis. Although nothing groundbreaking happens in this story, it's a nice little character piece and a pleasant read.

Second story: "Geometry"
by Dan Jurgens and Norm Rapmund

This was my favourite story of the three in this issue, which says a lot about my own biases, considering it's mostly set in Gotham City and Superman is almost more of a guest character in it. It's set in the early days of Dick Grayson's career as Robin. While Bruce Wayne is busy at an important stockholder's meeting, Robin disobeys his orders and goes out on his own to stop an illegal shipment of weapons coming in from Metropolis. Of course, Robin gets in trouble, and Superman shows up just in time to save him and stop the bad guys. There was a nice laugh-out-loud moment at the end when Superman helps cover-up Dick's escapade by finishing his geometry homework for him at super-speed behind Bruce's back. Then in the last scene, Clark Kent is back at the Daily Planet office and receives a hand-written note from Bruce, showing he's not easily fooled. It's another nice light moment, giving us a glimpse of the always-interesting dynamic between Bruce and Clark, which is something like a playful rivalry/partnership. Bruce's note is perfect, because it's his way of saying "thanks for saving Robin" without saying it, while at the same time pretending to put Superman in his place and telling him no to pull this kind of shit again. The smile on Clark's face is also perfect, showing that he doesn't take Bruce's posturing too seriously.

Third story: "Grounded prologue"
by J. Michael Straczynski, Eddy Barrows and J.P. Mayer

Just as the first story served as an epilogue for the previous creative team's run, this last one is a prologue for the new team's big story arc, which starts next month in Superman #701. I was pretty curious about Straczynski's run on Superman, and one of the reasons I picked up this issue was to get a sense of what to expect from him. Unfortunately, this pretty much convinced me not to put this title on my pull list.

The concept behind the year-long story arc "Grounded" is that Superman is going to walk across America in an effort to get closer to his roots and reconnect with the people, after spending all this time away on his intergalactic epic. Based on that description alone, I'm already feeling pretty skeptical about the whole thing, but this prologue confirms just how cheesy this is going to be.

At a press conference, Superman gets slapped in the face by a grieving woman whose husband died of an inoperable brain tumor while Superman was away. She says that he could have saved her husband with his X-ray/heat vision. Then Superman chats with Batman and the Flash, then flies into space to contemplate the Earth from above, then flies back down to a parc, where he grabs a handful of dirt from the ground and contemplates it with an intense look on his face. A couple of boys look at him and wonder what he's doing. As he's walking away, they wonder why he's not flying away. "I don't know," one of the kid says, "but it must be important." BARF!

To make matters worse, there's going to be some kind of interactive aspect to this story, as readers are invited to send essays to DC explaining why Superman should visit their home town. I hate interactive art and this whole thing just sounds like a terribly lame gimmick. It's really too bad, because I actually want to read a Superman comic right now, but I have no interest in this year-long arc and he's not going to feature prominently in any other titles for a while, as Action Comics is going to focus on Lex Luthor instead (which, admittedly, sounds like a better story than "Grounded").

In any case, this anniversary issue was all right. I enjoyed two of the three stories, and I'm glad the third one was included as well, as I can now save my money and avoid buying #701. The art was decent on all three stories and much more consistent than on Batman #700.

Review: The Brave and the Bold #33

THE BRAVE AND THE BOLD #33
Written by J. Michael Straczynski; art by Cliff Chiang

(This review contains spoilers.)

This is a really weird issue, and although ultimately my response to it is mostly favourable, it took me a while to make up my mind about it. Some readers will probably feel that it's a bit too gimmicky, or perhaps emotionally manipulative. The premise is deceptively simple: Zatanna, Wonder Woman and Batgirl (Barbara Gordon) take some time off from busting villains and go out for a ladies' night. The three women dress up in high-heels and evening dresses, go out dancing at a posh nightclub, flirt with guys, sing karaoke, and finish the night at a 24-hour diner.

This may sound silly and pointless, but of course there's something more sinister happening underneath the surface. The story opens with Zatanna waking up from a nightmare, which she knows was no ordinary dream. This is what prompts her to organizes this ladies' night, but the reasons why only start to become obvious when Diana mentions oracles at the diner. "The greatest burden of all was to be an oracle of prophecy, when there was nothing you could do to alter the course of the future because you had just enough information to know that something was going to happen, but not enough information to stop it from happening." It becomes clear that the vision was of Barbara's future (specifically, the events depicted in The Killing Joke, where the Joker shot her in the spine and paralyzed her for life), and the point of all this was to give her a special night to remember.

As many people have pointed out on forums and blogs, there are plenty of continuity details that don't hold up to scrutiny very well, like the mention of an iPhone or the Beyoncé song lyrics, or the fact that Barbara had retired from her Batgirl role by the time of her encounter with the Joker, or (the most jarring to me) the way JMS sets that encounter at her apartment, when I always thought that it took place at Jim Gordon's place. But unless you're a continuity freak, these details are easily overlooked.

The last few pages of the book cut back and forth between an earlier scene between Diana and Zatanna, and the famous scene from Killing Joke. It's a simple but effective device that packs a strong emotional punch. The panels and the dialogue from Alan Moore's story are reproduced here pretty faithfully, which creates a real tension as the fateful moment approaches. The two-page spread when it finally arrives is nothing short of brilliant: again, it's an almost exact reproduction of the art and dialogue from the original story, but it's laid out in such a clever way that it manages to make the familiar scene shocking even though we knew exactly what was going to happen. The very last page mirrors the first, only this time it's present-day Barbara waking up from a dream, and unlike Zatanna's dream, hers wasn't a nightmare. "I was dancing," she says. "It was beautiful."

Given how strong the art is in those last few pages, it's really too bad that JMS overdoes it a little with the dialogue. At this point in the story, we already understand what is going on and why Zatanna organized this night for Barbara, so most of the conversation between her and Diana is redundant. This is a case where he should have let the art do the storytelling. And Cliff Chiang's art really shines throughout the issue.