Showing posts with label John Cassaday. Show all posts
Showing posts with label John Cassaday. Show all posts

Sunday, 18 August 2013

Planetary

 
 What if the Fantastic Four turned bad? We’ll come back to this…

Planetary is a comic series published by Wildstorm comics from 1998 to late 1999. Despite that lengthy period it consists of only twenty-seven regular issues, three crossover issues and an introductory short. It was written by Warren Ellis, drawn by John Cassaday and coloured by Laura Martin. It’s set in the Wildstorm Universe (which has since been assimilated into the DC Universe) but in actuality has very little to do with the company’s established characters or titles. It’s a thematic successor to Ellis’s run on Stormwatch and The Authority.

The series focuses on the Planetary field team. Comprised of Elijah Snow, a man who can subtract heat form the atmosphere, Jakita Wagner, a woman blessed with super strength, and The Drummer, who has complete control over all technology, they’re tasked with uncovering the secret history of their world. That sounds a little broad, and it is. It’s basically the creative team’s excuse for the team getting involved in the plots they do. They have unlimited resources and answer only to the mysterious Fourth Man, the identity of whom becomes one of first of many mysteries in the series.

This is a completely accurate summary but it also fails to do Planetary justice. There’s so much more to the title.

The central conceit of Planetary is Ellis’s use of history to create a world of wonder. There’s an ongoing plot threat and a few loose arcs but all but two of the issues are self-contained stories (the two that aren’t are a two part story). This allows Ellis much more creative freedom than the traditional approach does. There’s no regular base or lengthy, convoluted explanations about how bad guys that were definitely killed last time we saw them are able to return.

Ellis makes use of a number of literary sources for Planetary. Issue two, for example, draws heavily on the tradition of Japanese monster movies. Issue eight is a cross between Cold War paranoia and fifties B movies. Australian creation myths are the basis of much of issue fifteen, although John Carter of Mars is also a source of inspiration for that issue. That should hint at how broad the series can be even within one issue. Action movies, Sherlock Holmes, The (Steed and Peel) Avengers, Norse mythology, and the X Files all provide ideas for Ellis at various points too. It’s an eclectic mixture of literature, pop culture, TV shows, and, of course, comic book history.

It sounds incredibly busy but it’s all perfectly judged, the sources never overshadow the central plot or the characters Ellis has created. Ellis uses the fiction we’re all familiar with as a storytelling shorthand. It’s a little like Alan Moore’s League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, only broader in its reach and less focused on using the sources it uses as the centre point of its tale.

And I’ve yet to mention the comic book sources Ellis draws from. Throughout the series characters appear that are clearly based on characters from Marvel and DC, names changed partly because of legal reasons and partly because Ellis presents them, to a greater or lesser extent, as alternate versions of those established characters. He’s more interested in subverting the known aspects of the characters than the characters themselves, which is a healthy approach to take. We see Nick Fury, Captain Marvel, John Constatine, and Spider Jerusalem reimagined, and the work of several comic book greats referenced, most obviously and frequently Jack Kirby.

And then there are The Four. They’re the Fantastic Four done as though they were bad guys. The starting point for the idea was an issue Ellis has with the Marvel version of the group: they have great powers, resources and inventions but use them only to fight bad guys. There’s no attempt from the group to better mankind. That becomes a central idea of Ellis’s Four.

We see them slaughter the population of an entire planet just so they have somewhere to store their immense weapons collection. We discover that they created they internet (although it’s never actually revealed why). Most notably we see them eliminate Wildstorm versions of Superman, Wonder Woman and Green Lantern before they can have any positive influence on Earth. And none of this is done for the sake of it. By the time Planetary finishes we know exactly what motivated The Four and how and why they’ve done what they’ve done.

Understanding all of this in relation to the source material is obviously fun and adds another level on which to enjoy the book. If you don’t recognise something enough to know what the source material was you stil follow what’s going on within the context of the tale. You aren’t isolated because of ignorance but knowledge and understanding of pop culture and comic books specifically is rewarded.

I would like to add that the creativity is not limited to the stories told within Planetary. The covers are an integral part of the book’s experience, mirroring as they do the chief themes and inspirations of their contents (see the selection posted at the top of this review. Issue 23, for example, is the pulp heroes story, its cover done up to emulate a cheap disposable paperback from the thirties. The John Constantine issue perfectly replicates the original style of Vertigo titles. Meanwhile issue fifteen evokes ancient Australasian tribe art. The covers alone contribute more to the stories Ellis and Cassaday tell than most authors pack into twenty-plus page issues. 

Cassaday’s artwork is just as important to the book’s success as Ellis’s writing. A lesser artist (and there are many) would have been incapable of transferring Ellis’s more outlandish ideas to the page. There are few artists who could have produced work that was one moment awe inspiring and the next detailing the unspoken emotions of an office drone. Cassaday perfectly captures The Drummer’s neuroses and skittishness, Jakita’s confident swagger (just look at the perfect panel at the bottom of issue eight’s twelfth page), and Elijah’s deliberate pondering. In lesser hands this could have become just another superhero book. Cassaday helps it to become something incredibly special.

The links to the Wildstorm Universe start out infrequent and vague and are pretty much gone by the halfway point of the series. That’s no bad thing. Ellis does more to create a cohesive history for this fictional universe in Planetary than everyone else had done combined. Instead of trying to make everything tie together he focuses on threads he’d started up in other books. Such as the century babies.

Anyone who’s read The Authority will be familiar with the idea of a group of people with special powers sharing the birthday of January 1st 1900. That’s elaborated on in Planetary, although ultimately we’re left with more answers than questions on the topic. The concept could very easily support a comic series in its own right. It’s a testament to Ellis as a writer that he hasn’t ruined the mysterious air he worked hard to cultivate by taking on such a project. The idea works best when used as an unresolved thread in the background.

With Planetary Ellis wanted to reintroduce wonder and discovery into comics, something he (rightly) felt had disappeared from comics throughout the course of the late eighties and the nineties. He essentially writes Planetary as a creator owned title and uses the Wildstorm Universe as little more than a backdrop. It’s not something that could have been done with the continuity heavy worlds of Marvel or DC. It works here because Wildstorm is (or was now, I suppose) so much younger as a company. Ellis gave it an identity of its own with this title, and wrote a series that will be enjoyed for a very long time. You could not hope for a more inventive comic.

Sunday, 28 July 2013

Astonishing X-Men


Long before Joss Whedon gave us the phenomenally successful Avengers movie he wrote for Marvel's other high profile team, the X-Men. It was a risk, for both him and Marvel. Despite the fact that he'd spent much of the previous decade showrunning juggernaut TV hits Buffy and Angel, as well as the decidedly less commercially successful Firefly, Whedon was an unknown quantity in comics.

There was no guarantee that his skills would transfer away from their televisual home. He was also brought in to follow on from Grant Morrison's run as the de facto lead writer of the X-Men, Astonishing replacing Morrison’s popular New X-Men. Whedon was and is a bigger name in the general media than Morrison, but Morrison's name meant more to comic book buyers and there was no guarantee Whedon's fan base would carry over with him.

The decision turned out to be a good one. Whedon’s experience with writing Buffy and Angel, both of which are ensemble pieces despite their misleading titles, meant he knew how to write a team book like X-Men. Under Whedon each character has a distinct voice and understandable motives. Wolverine, for example, is mostly depicted as liking a beer and being very comfortable with his reputation as an intimidating killer. Cyclops, on the other hand, is a boy scout with an inferiority complex. Both could run the risk of being unoriginal but Whedon’s spin ensures that’s not the case thanks to well-timed moments of humour and pathos.

Despite having big name characters like Wolverine, Cyclops and Emma Frost to play with it’s Kitty Pryde at the centre of much of the story. Whedon displays an almost Warren Ellis-level of obsession with the character (read anything featuring her written by Ellis to see what I mean by this). It’s annoying with Ellis because it comes off as fetishisation whereas Whedon seems more interested in doing something new with an established character and her power of phasing.

Whedon also devotes a lot of time, particularly in early issues, to Ord of the Breakworld. He’s an alien villain introduced as one of the central antagonists of the series. Anyone who’s watched Buffy (yes, another reference to that show, sorry) will recognise Ord as a Whedon villain: a big threatening villain who has an understandable motivation for his beef with the X team, who gets shown to be mildly inept after his impressive initial appearance. Whedon’s never afraid to send up his bad guys but he does so with love: Ord is far from a one note villain or a glorified gag.

All of Whedon’s screen output is known for its snappy dialogue. The knack carries over to comics well. If he found it a struggle to limit the amount of dialogue he could give his characters, because he’s limited by the size of the page, it doesn’t show. Everything flows very naturally and his trademark moments of humour are alive and well. He loves the funnies, does Joss.

Of course, John Cassaday’s artwork doesn’t hurt. His clean, crisp line work and instantly recognisable characters make reading the book a joy. Having an artist who’s just as good at action sequences as he is at quiet exposition scenes is of real benefit to a writer like Whedon. Had he been paired up with Ed McGuinness things would have been very different.

On the subject of exposition scenes it’s worth mentioning the use of the danger room and the “thought space” of various psychic characters. Sometimes these are used for sight gags (Emma Frost enduring a particularly bumpy ride through space in a tea room, for example) while other times they’re used to add some colour to what would otherwise be bland infodumping scenes. They’re nice touches.

Sadly all of the witty dialogue, great artwork and solid characterisation is let down by a somewhat disappointing story. Things start off well with a six issue plot detailing the development of a cure for the X gene and continue being enjoyable when the danger room becomes sentient and reveals its plan to kill the X-Men.

The third arc is where things begin to go wrong. At first we’re led to believe the Hellfire Club have returned. That’s revealed to be wrong halfway through volume three, the villain instead being revealed as Cassandra Nova, one of the main antagonists of Morrison’s New X-Men. The fourth and final arc falls apart almost completely, as the background plot from the previous issues takes centre stage and the X-Men head off into outer space alongside SWORD supremo Agent Brand for an intergalactic showdown on the Breakworld.

Personal taste is part of the reason for my dislike of the fourth and final arc: the Marvel universe has a large enough number of concepts as it is without introducing aliens too. This is not Whedon’s fault, aliens have long been a part of the Marvel Universe. It’s just that their inclusion tends to make me lose interest. My feeling is that if people want to write about aliens in comics they should simply set up a creator-owned piece somewhere. There’s plenty of material in Marvel with the various superheroes, fictional countries and the worldwide problem of the X gene. Aliens serve to muddy the waters and on some level just feel a bit lazy.

The final arc lets itself down in other areas too. New characters are introduced at a rapid pace, making it hard to keep track of the plot. And scenes featuring Marvel’s large cast of regulars all crammed into an X book feels a little too self-indulgent for my taste. It’s as though Whedon’s decided that as this may be his only time working for Marvel (he was wrong there) he wants to use everyone he possibly can. All the positives of the early issues remain, but they’re not as prominent as they were.

Whedon and Cassaday’s Astonishing X-Men is a lovely looking piece of work that demonstrates everything you’d expect from both an X-Men book and something written by the man who brought you Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Reading this it’s clear he’s a fan of comics and Marvel in particular. If you can put up with a fudged ending it’s well worth a look. If you’re already a Whedon fan then you won’t even be bothered by the ending: you’ll enjoy the series regardless.