Deadpool: Dead Presidents

Deadpool is a character that has appealed to me since the moment I first heard about him. He's also a character that hasn't been written well in any of the comics I've read featuring him. That's a list that includes Suicide Kings and The Circle Chase trade paperbacks as well as various X-Men appearances. The Wolverine: Origins movie didn't do much for him either.

The idea of Deadpool is pretty simple. He's a mercenary with a Wolverine-style knack for healing any wound (and a similar Weapon X origin) but without the nice hair and normal skin. He quips and jokes like Spider-Man, but with far more pop culture references and nods toward the fact that he's a comic book character. He's also one of the few worthwhile Marvel or DC creations to come out of the mostly dreadful 90s.

It was hearing that he knew he’s a comic book character that originally made me think he'd be the greatest Marvel character I’d ever read. Panels I found on Google Image confirmed that the character could be genuinely amusing and had appeared in what looked like well written stories. Unfortunately the ones I picked up (mentioned above) were less than quality stuff. So I decided the character wasn't for me and went back to reading Vertigo books.

A few years later I heard about the character being rebooted through the Marvel NOW! line. The first collected volume shows that the creative team here knows how to make 'The Merc with a Mouth' work. There are two writers, Brian Posehn and Gerry Duggan. Posehn has a background as a writer and comedian while Duggan has a varied writing background that includes everything from Uncnanny Avengers to Simpsons comics.

They make a good team. There's a clear love of comics and pop culture, with everything from Mighty Mouse to Planet of the Apes to Arrested Development being referenced. At one point there's a multi-panel sequence about Deadpool's mental instability which begins when he conspiratorially addresses the readers. I think the book's funny in part because the two writers were able to bounce ideas off of one another and see what worked.

They're joined by artist Tony Moore. His visuals immediately click with the writing and the character and prove a large part of the title's success. He was the original artist on The Walking Dead (something everyone who reviews this Deadpool book points out) which makes him a natural at drawing the large cast of foes (see below for why) and Deadpool's emaciated husk of a body. He provides suitably gory scenes without ever becoming so graphic as to appear unsettling. Considering some of the things he's tasked with drawing that could easily have happened.

The volume collects the first six issues of the series. The title, Dead Presidents, gives you a pretty fair summation of the plot. All of America's deceased Presidents are brought back to life and DP is called upon to dispatch them. That's basically all you need to know. If it's a concept that doesn't appeal you likely won't enjoy the book.

For those that do read the collection there's plenty to like. The wayward SHIELD Necromancer who's misguided actions begin the chain of events is a nicely realised character, as is put upon agent Preston, the one tasked with ridding the US of its former leaders in a quiet fashion. Even the ghost of Ben Franklin pops up as a supporting character. It's introducing this slight cast that helps to make the book work. They're all able to play the straight man to Deadpool's wisecracks, which is the best way of making him work, and also get their own moments of comedy not reliant on the star.

The plot ticks along through a steady stream of set pieces and exposition scenes. It's not the fanciest approach but it works well enough. Nobody’s reading Deadpool (or pretty anything from Marvel or DC) for bold storytelling approaches. The approach actually adds to Deadpool’s character. Perhaps it's because it allows him to go from electrocuting an elephant in a zoo to impersonating Marilyn Monroe and then on to battling Abraham Lincoln in a UFC setting without becoming stupid or dull.

As a standalone volume this works. It also works as the beginning of an ongoing series. The writers seem keen to make the book funny and interesting, and they achieve their goal. The book revels on being just the right amount of silly. If humorous Marvel titles are your bag then this is definitely something for you.

League of Extraordinary Gentlemen: Century

The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen’s Century series was originally released in three volumes between 2010 and 2012 (wrapping up a year later than originally planned thanks to delays that now seem to be standard for any League title). They’re set, unsurprisingly, across a one hundred year span with each instalment offering something self-contained while at the same time contributing to a larger arc also detailed in the other two.

My feeling is that Century is where the League series began to show signs of flagging. I still feel that it’s the best thing Moore’s worked on, but this third volume does nothing to contribute to that. Rather it simply avoids being bad enough to ruin what I enjoyed about previous entries.

If you’re not familiar with the concept the idea is that Alan Moore (likely with some input from series artist Kevin O’Neill) has fashioned a universe that incorporates every fictional character ever created, in place of prominent real life figures. That idea is alive and well and is still at the centre of things as the series kicks off with Century: What Keeps Mankind Alive?, set in 1910. Sadly by the time the final part, Century: Let it Come Down, rolls around it feels as if things have gone off the rails a bit and the title has definitely lost a lot of its lustre.

The first chapter teases that it’s going to take the book back to its roots. It’s set just a decade after the climax of the second volume, which showed a failed Martian invasion of Earth. In the intervening years the surviving members of the original line-up have disbanded and a new gang, operating under the same name has formed.

Moore seems to go out of his way to emphasise that this group is not as effective, or indeed charming, as the original. Which is in one way fine and in another ay quite irritating. The author’s point seems to be that this is a second string group both within the confines of the fictional League universe as well as for him as a writer. He doesn’t seem to want them to be viewed as the equals of their predecessors because they’re not as well-known to readers and because within the narrative they are not as powerful. It’s a nice idea but he does such a hatchet job on the new League that the book becomes difficult to enjoy.

Paint it Black moves things forward to 1969. We get hints at unseen line-ups but they amount to nothing substantial (which is in character for Moore, but as a reader I’d like to know more about these groups). Instead Moore focuses his efforts even more on the plot that threads the three chapters together. It involves Oliver Haddo, an interpretation of Aleister Crowley so metafictional I’m surprised the world didn’t implode when Moore wrote it, jumping around some bodies and attempting to summon forth a Moonchild who will end the world. For all he rails against generic superhero book-style plots he seems to enjoy writing them.

The 1969 instalment comes complete with the obligatory drug-induced dream sequences which are frankly a little lazy. They’re impressively realised by O’Neill but you’d think that someone with Alan Moore’s reputation and alleged inventiveness would be keen to buck trends and stereotypes. To see him writing exactly the sort of thing everyone would expect him to write for scenes set in 1969, and worse, exactly the sort of thing everyone else writes, is disappointing.

The final chapter wraps everything up about as well as can be expected. The Moonchild finally gets summoned and is revealed, to the surprise of nobody familiar with the book’s internal logic, to be a Harry Potter character. Of far more interest in the final volume is seeing the bleed of television into the League world turn into an unstoppable flood. This includes Moore writing The Thick Of It’s Malcolm Tucker. If you’re into unexpected writer-character mash-ups you’ll probably find something to enjoy about that.

The Century trilogy is where Moore seemed to stop writing the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen to ensure there was a fun comic on shelves and instead turns it into one of the many books he writes to show us his theories and views on the world. It’s telling that the most enjoyable thing about the entire two hundred page plus story is a short sequence which sees Allan Quartermain spending some time as John Constatine at the end of the 1980s. That could have supported an entire issue in itself. That it was relegated to a throwaway scene tells you all you need to know about where Moore’s priorities lay when writing the series.

JLA Earth 2

The idea of showing evil versions of established superheroes is not a new one to comic books. Both Marvel and DC have been stories about bad reflections of their good guys, and each other’s, going back decades. It’s a well-worn trope of the medium.

It is, of course, something DC have recently returned to with their Forever Evil crossover. In many ways it’s comparable to JLA Earth 2, a Grant Morrison and Frank Quitely collaboration from 2000. For his part Quitely produced predictably excellent work. Everything about his art style was perfectly judged. The deliberately inflated physiques of the superpowered characters doesn’t feel silly, they feel a natural fit for the story being told. The alternate outfits are a blend of older costumes and stereotypically villainous designs.

Quitely’s work is far better than Morrison’s. Whether he’s drawing a decidedly square-jawed and masculine Superwoman (the evil version of Wonder Woman) or giving us a splash page where Green Lantern grabs hold of the moon with titanic hands he’s always creative and clear.

Morrison starts off with a nice idea. A bad version of the JLA ruling over a universe where they always win and the only man who stands up to them, Lex Luthor, is doomed to repetitive failings is a good concept. The teases of backstory we get for the Crime Syndicate are intriguing. Pleasingly they’re not elaborated on, leaving an air of mystery.

Where Morrison falls down is with his convoluted plot. Not happy to jut have bad versions of the JLA clash with good versions of the Crime Syndicate Morrison has to have the entire plot hinge on a minor character introduced early on. It’s a disappointment that he falls back on tying things into continuity references and gibberish about matter and anti-matter coexisting. It’s not what people read comics for. It would have been enough to just have the two teams face off in a climactic fight scene, especially when the book’s so slight.

That said Morrison does include nice throwaway details for the universe. Thomas Wayne being the chief of Gotham City’s police force, standing up to Boss Gordon and the tyrannical Owlman unfolds at a nice pace throughout the slender volume. It’s an idea that could have supported a story in its own right. Perhaps it should have.

The first page shot of the Crime Syndicate’s moonbase is beautifully drawn and a nice introduction. The first time we see the heroic, anti-matter Luthor after he’s crash-landed in a scene that deliberately reflects the Superman origin is nice, as is one of his earliest line “You are human. I am Luthor.” Morrison even captures the spirit of mainstream JLA tales by having the gang work on small scale problems such as saving a plane or rebuilding a city together, despite being an international supergroup.

It’s a mixture of a book. Ultimately it’s worth a look because of Quitely’s art and the general concept of the thing. It falls apart as soon as Morrison has to start paying things off, but that’s nothing new with him. His good ideas in this outweigh his bad, and his poor judgement of the resolution.

DC Crossover: Forever Evil

Anyone who’s followed the output of Marvel and DC for any significant amount of time will know that crossover stories are common. They usually fall under the heading of “event”, stories that focus on a development that affects the entire fictional universe and is told through all of the companies’ regular monthly titles. Theoretically they’re meant to present a larger than usual threat and story but in reality the concept has become so overused that it’s now impossible to see them as anything other than cynical cash-grabbing ploys and half-hearted attempts to provide memorable stories that will be critically acclaimed now and fondly remembered for years to come.

Which brings us to Forever Evil.

This is DC’s big 2013 “event”. The heroes of the world disappear, supposedly defeated by evil versions of the Justice League from an alternate Universe. Just to be as confusing as possible these alternate versions form a group called the Secret Society (shorthand for one of DC’s old bad guy gangs) but are actually, according to various writer interviews promoting the crossover, the Crime Syndicate. Things like this shouldn’t really matter but they do, a by-product of the cynicism with which these things are dreamt up. The continuity is considered more important than writing good stories.

Crossovers usually fall into one of only a few groups: generic stories of new all-powerful megalomaniacs destroying stuff until they’re beaten; two factions of good guys fighting one another (a theme Marvel particularly enjoys; and convoluted continuity rewrites designed to tidy up and simplify things that have only become needlessly complicated because there are so many crossovers going on to begin with. With the heroes gone their various rogue galleries inherit ongoing titles for a month (imaginatively dubbed “villains’ month”). In theory this is a nice idea. It gives writers the chance to present fresh perspectives on the villains and tell stories they wouldn’t be able to with the regular catalogue of lead characters.

Unfortunately that doesn’t happen. Few concessions are made for new readers and all but one gives us stories that are instantly forgettable and not at all enjoyable. There’s a ridiculous amount of philosophical pondering, done to illustrate that the villains aren’t just villainous for the sake of it but have internal conflicts and deeper motivations. These (poor) attempts are undercut by the fact that all of backstories we’re presented with (with the exception of the Joker) are flimsily presented. As readers we’re expected to take far too many leaps of logic to get these motivations to work. The writers seem to want to use famous quotes and Latin phrases as a substitute for logical, understandable writing.

The main story kicks off in the first issue of limited series Forever Evil. The opening pages ham-fistedly remind us that Lex Luthor is a thoroughly nasty individual by having him threatening to kill a man and ruin his family in order to get him to agree to sell his company. By the end of the issue, after Crime Syndicate leader Ultraman (a bad Superman who snorts Kryptonite like it’s coke, is harmed by sun rays, and has a U emblazoned on his chest) has made it clear that the Justice League is gone and supervillains rule the Earth, Lex has been recast as a good guy realising that Superman is needed to sort the situation out. We’ll see his quest to save Earth in the other six issues.

The various villain specific issues are even less noteworthy. The .1 that follows the various issue numbers is supposed to denote that a comic is both a good jumping on point for newcomers. While Forever Evil is fairly new reader friendly (ironic considering it’s not a .1 title) the same isn’t true for four of the other five titles I read. I’m fairly up to speed on a lot of Marvel and DC continuity and there were things here that baffled me. That shouldn’t be the case. If DC wants to continue existing it has to attract new readers, which means being as accessible as possible.

Grodd #1 (Flash 23.1) sees Gorilla Grodd return from being trapped in the speed force (whatever that means) to resume his place as king of Gorilla City. There’s no context in the entire story, which leaves it disinteresting for anyone who hasn’t been following the Flash title. I can’t imagine it was especially thrilling for people who knew what was going on.

Grodd quickly becomes a dictator, torturing and beheading his foes. That’s a pretty dark tone for a book starring a magical talking gorilla. Still, Chris Batista’s artwork is pleasant enough.

Two Face #1 (Batman and Robin 23.1) tells the convoluted tale of Two Face in a Gotham City with no Batman. He starts out trying to save the city by killing petty criminals. He’s also a member of the unseen Owlman’s Secret Society. Later on the Society turns on him so he shoots some grunts and, after a new coin toss, decides to let the city bleed. You gain no greater knowledge or insight into the crossover by reading the issue. It’s entirely pointless, a perfect example of why these things have a reputation as cynical cash-ins.

Completely detached from the regular DCU is Cyborg Superman #1 (Action Comics 23.1). Zor-El, a Kryptonian scientist, spends the days before his planet is destroyed trying to reverse engineer Brainiac technology. His intention is to create a capsule that will protect the city of Argo from imminent destruction. Naturally this doesn’t work out well for him.

The planet is destroyed and Argo is left hanging alone in space, its citizens dying or dead. Brainiac shows up, attracted by a beacon activated by Zor-El for unclear reasons. He turns the scientist into the “perfect” creation: a Cyborg Superman. We’re meant to empathise with Zor-El’s plight, driven to this low in his impossible quest for perfection as he simply tried to do right by his race and his family. But he’s written as such a bland, tedious character that I didn’t really care one way or the other about him. That it wasn’t made clear whether or not this story would impact on the DCU at large didn’t help matters there.

Relic (Green Lantern 23.1) is a confusing mess of continuity references. It exists more to set up the forthcoming Green Lantern crossover series (yep, another one) Lights Out rather than add to the concept of the cast of heroes being gone and the bad guys being in charge.

A scientist from the universe before ours (yeah, that old chestnut) realises that the emotional power source that seemingly every living creature relies on is finite. When his peers don’t believe him he sets off to get proof. He turns out to be right but it’s too late to save the universe and he ends up sucked into the next. The issue ends with him “awakening” looking decidedly evil. As a setup it may work but as part of Forever Evil, which is what it’s meant to be, it falls flat.

The final contribution I picked up was Joker #1 (Batman 23.1). It was easily the best of the six. Rather than dash off a generic story reliant on fanboy-pleasing continuity Andy Kubert instead writes a story that gives the Joker some emotional depth and both works alone and as part of the larger narrative.

Andy Clarke’s artwork helps a great deal too. It’s a pleasure to look at and he cleverly uses two very different styles to differentiate between the modern scenes and the handful of flashback’s to the Joker’s childhood. It’s the only one of the titles that I felt could have worked as an ongoing series. Perhaps creating that feeling wasn’t a concern for DC, but it should have been. It would have made many of these one shots mean more.

I’ve only read a handful of the books from the first week of what is set to be a month-long initiative and the first issue of a seven part series. As such it would be unfair of me to state definitively that Forever Evil hasn’t worked. There’s every chance that the books I chose not to look at this week and the ones that will be released in the future are and will be very enjoyable and create a coherent narrative that provides an entertaining story with a satisfying conclusion. Based on what I’ve seen I doubt that’s the case but it could happen.

Locke & Key: Keys to the Kingdom

After three six issue series readers were still keen for more Locke & Key. Joe Hill and Gabriel Rodriguez were happy to give it to them. But they altered their approach a little to keep it fresh.

Keys to the Kingdom is far more experimental with what Locke & Key can be than any of the first three volumes, both in terms of writing and artwork. The first issue sees Rodriguez channelling Calvin and Hobbes creator Bill Watterson for a story that plays with the idea of how we view things differently as we age. Youngest Locke child Bode gets the Watterson treatment as he feels left out by his siblings and unable to connect with children his own age. It’s a nice self-contained story that contributes to the whole as well as serving as a reminder for the main characters of the series. The different approach to the artwork is a welcome change and shows how talented an artist Rodriguez is.

The third issue also presents a non-traditional script. We follow the Locke kids’ adventures throughout a calendar month, each day getting anywhere from a panel to a page dedicated to it. Hill uses this as a chance to show the passage of time in a way that only comics can, and subtly moves his story and characters along too. It’s not a mind-blowing approach, but it’s something different and something that Hill utilises to full effect.

Hill is also far more willing to play around with the concept of the keys than he has been before. Previously he introduced keys almost reluctantly, always making sure they weren’t used frivolously and ensuring he looked at the full scope of all the powers a new key introduced. With Keys to the Kingdom he introduces half a dozen new keys, many of which have powers that could support a mini-series in their own right. A mirror key allows people to change their ethnicity while a Mr T style medallion (naturally featuring a tell-tale keyhole) imbues wearers with incredible strength and we get a tantalising glimpse of Kinsey gliding around with wings sprouted from her back.

In addition to those Hill also throws in some throwaway keys clearly intended to be humorous. We see a monster made from thorns and another made from chains, the latter being battled by a muscular Bode, an acorn key that has a strange effect on squirrels, and a teddy bear with an intriguing lock in the back of its neck. There’s a sense of fun to it all and you get the feeling that Hill finally feels comfortable to play around with his creation after getting his characters and the rest of the book’s mythology established. It was worth waiting for.

Previous volumes are not ignored and there’s no sense of this being the volume where Hill and Rodriguez slow down and decide to milk their creation. Along with the fun and interesting keys we also get more developments and revelations regarding the main story than we have in any previous volume. Dodge reveals his true nature in the closing moments of the sixth issue and the volume ends on a cliffhanger that plays on everything that’s gone before it beautifully. I shan’t spoil what it is here.

With its fourth volume Locke & Key continues to prove why it is one of the greatest comic books of the century. It’s a ceaseless parade of captivating ideas blended with a gripping story and really natural dialogue. It’s so well written that it almost makes you hope Hill and Rodriguez will renege on their promise to wrap the main story up after the sixth volume.