Why Are You Doing This?

It would be pretentious to say that Why Are You Doing This? by writer-artist Jason is about the meaning of life. It would be inaccurate too. It’s not about the meaning of life but it does look at deeper themes and the nature of humanity in the western world more than the average Mark Millar or Grant Morrison book ever would.

The story’s central character, Alex, finds himself framed for murder and on the run from the law after spending a week watering his pal’s plants. Having recently split from his girlfriend of four years he’s in a reflective mood throughout the story, which Jason uses to explore themes such as loneliness, love, and social justice. Some of these themes, such as love, are laid on a little too thick in places while others, such as social justice, could be considered underdeveloped. More could certainly have been made of the failings of the legal system that ultimately lead the book to happen.

A recurring idea of the book is the worth of anecdotes that can be told during an evening with friends. At several points Alex notes that he has very few to tell and reflects on their importance. Jason asks, through secondary character and murder victim Claude, if the idea is that the person with the most anecdotes when they die “wins”. He also notes that Ernest Hemingway led a life that took him all over the world but that his life ended in suicide. Anecdotes, interesting sequences from life, are clearly of great importance to the writer and he uses this book to get us thinking about them, but holds off from attempting to provide a definitive answer to the question. It’s a book that wants to make you think rather than impose beliefs and views on you.

It should be pointed out that Alex, and every other character in the book (including, presumably, the deceased Hemingway), is a dog. Or possibly a cat, it’s not overly clear. But that’s not as important to the story as it could be. It’s more because Jason likes drawing animals than for anything else. Or perhaps because he feels he’s better at drawing them. It’s certainly not designed to introduce a feeling of whimsy because this is a distinctly unwhimsical title in every other regard. If anything I’d say it’s to lighten the sense of despair and depression that the story induces.

Not that it’s a bad book. Reading a tale of despair and depression can make you more appreciative of what you’ve got. And as such stories go this one is well written. A lot happens during the slender page count, with every panel contributing something to the advancement of the plot or the fleshing out of a character. It’s a good story told confidently.

X-Men: Days of Future Past

I'd open this with a joke about time travel never going out of fashion but I don't know how to structure it. Just imagine I've done it and chuckle to yourself about how clever an observation it was.

Days of Future Past is not only one of the greatest, if grammatically puzzling, titles for a comic story ever it's also a highlight of X-Men canon. Considering the number of stories that are regarded as classics within said canon that's not something I say lightly. It was written by Chris Claremont during his immense decade-plus run on the X-books. During that time he wrote more stories now considered classics than anyone else no named Stan Lee or Jack Kirby has for any other group or character. Days of Future Past is amongst his best.

The basic premise is that the adult consciousness of Kitty Pryde gets sent back in time, from 2013 eerily enough, to inhabit her teenage body in order to avert impending doom at the hands of an army of Sentinels. After the standard exchanges where she convinces the younger earlier incarnations that she is who she says she is, naturally enough featuring Wolverine’s heightened senses, the gang set about stopping an assassination attempt by Mystique's Brotherhood that proved a pivotal moment in history. It may sound basic now but that's because time travel has become so commonplace in TV, movies, fiction and pop culture in general. This story was ahead of its time and, more importantly is better than the average "timey-wimey" fluff that gets churned out today.

The time shifting shenanigans allow for more impactful moments than the average Marvel book, then or now. Claremont is free to kill off as many future incarnations of characters as he pleases, something he embraces. The death toll ratchets up, demonstrating that the future is indeed incredibly bleak and something the X-Men are right to try and avoid. Claremont also employs one of his favourite tricks, featuring reformed Magneto.

It’s a great piece of world building, a demonstration of Claremont’s skill as a writer of comic books. Using established continuity he creates a bleak world with a compelling history that’s both fleshed out and intriguing enough to make you want to explore it more. Unfortunately some people did just that: in the years since Days of Future Past first appeared Marvel have milked the DOFP continuity dry, coming as close as they can to robbing the original of its appeal. Fox are getting in on the act too, with a film adaption due out next year. Thankfully no matter how much inferior nonsense they pump out the original’s standing can’t be diminished.

Squeezed into just two issues Days of Future Past was and is a triumph, one that changed what an X-Men comic could do. It is one of the highest peaks of Claremont's lengthy X-Men career.

Deadpool: Soul Hunter

The second trade paperback of the current Deadpool series brings a few new things with it. Chief among them is a new artist. The distinctive, emotive work of Tony Moore is out, replaced by the work of Mike Hawthorne and, for one issue only, Scott Koblish. The deliberately oddball plot of ghostly presidents invading America is also gone, replaced by something that allows for similar japes without feeling at all repetitive. There’s also a little exploration of the lead character’s origins, something Deadpool’s mostly avoided in his twenty years of Marvel appearances.

If you’re worried that giving ‘The Merc With a Mouth’ a definitive origin story will ruin him you don’t need to worry. Writers Gerry Duggan and Brian Posehn are as aware that humour is what makes the character work as they were in their first six issue arc. They don’t overload on revelations. It’s more just a few hints and teases as to Deadpool having a past beyond the Weapon X here. And that’s a good thing, because over the last few years Deadpool has become one of the publisher’s more popular characters. Giving him a more substantial past helps to make him less of a Wolverine knock-off.

Fun is still the order of the day with this book though. That’s clear from the first issue of the collection, which sees Koblish come on board to provide the art for an eighties-inspired flashback story which sets up the rest of the issue. This includes amusing cameos from Peter Parker and J Jonah Jameson and Deadpool invading the fabled Genie in a Bottle Iron Man story. It’s the sort of story that’s perfect for Deadpool.

The central plot sees Deadpool having to track down members of the public who have gained superpowers by making deals with a demon. One is invulnerable to harm. The second is a clear (but well-meaning) riff on DC’s Aquaman and how ultimately useless his basic power is. Another is a businessman who can see into the future and who is modelled on a certain New York billionaire.

Along the way the current day Spiderman appears (that’s Doctor Octopus’s psyche in Peter Parker’s body, fact fans), along with a bunch of C-list villains. Seeing Deadpool battle the likes of Lady Stilt Man, The Trapster and his long-time pal-slash-enemy The Taskmaster in a climactic fight scene is a highlight of the book.

What’s most noteworthy about this collection in comparison to the first is that it could be considered a team book. Deadpool is still joined by the ghost of Benjamin Franklin and throughout the book as the soul of SHIELD Agent Preston in his mind. When he hooks back up with Michael the SHIELD psychic from Dead Presidents the team is complete.

As with the first collection Soul Hunter is a fun and enjoyable read written by people who know how to make Deadpool funny as well as interesting. That’s a rare combo, as history has proven. If you’ve ever wanted to read a Deadpool comic this is the series to begin with.

Books of Doom

For me one of the greatest characters ever to appear in comics is Doctor Doom. I can't imagine there's anyone reading this who's unaware of him but just in case... Doom is the arch enemy of the Marvel supergroup the Fantastic Four (specifically he is the nemesis of Reed Richards) who has a deliberately obscured and contradictory backstory. He's the monarch of his own nation, Latveria, wears an imposing metal mask (which used to express emotions before Marvel, sadly, grew up), is a master scientists, practices magick, and used to love referring to himself in the third person.

I could write hundreds of words elaborating on all of these points but I won't. The point is that Victor Von Doom is one of the most intriguing, entertaining, and well-rounded characters in the Marvel Universe. As with many of his contemporaries (in fact all well-written bad guys everywhere) Doom has understandable and justifiable motives for his actions. He doesn't see himself as a villain. He sees himself as a genius and a hero.

All of this meant it was completely natural for Marvel to give him a starring role in his own comic. He's actually had several at this point, and Books of Doom is not the first. But it is (probably) the most prominent.

Books of Doom is a four issue mini-series that tells the (perhaps it's more accurate to say "an") origin story for the character. It presents various aspects that have been involved in stories of his early years before, but does contradict takes that have appeared in the pages of Fantastic Four comics. Magick, gypsies, humble beginnings and Tibetan monks are among the things that have played a part in shaping Doom's personality.

The fashioning of these disparate themes and ideas into coherency is left to Ed Brubaker. He does a fine job, getting Doom's focus, motives and speech patterns (yes a comic book character can have speech patterns) exactly right. The plot is less of a triumph, mostly because he's retreading old ground. He's very loyal to what's already been established and manages to put his own spin on things but when so much is already known it's tough to have much of an impact or surprise the audience. He sticks to the Jack Kirby approach of not showing Doom's face after a certain point, which is incredibly pleasing.

On art duty is Pablo Raimondi (which is a great name). He too does a fine job, capturing the sense of imperialistic righteousness that characterises Doctor Doom at his best and ensuring that the supporting cast don't fade into the background, which would have been all too easy with a bombastic creation like Doom in the starring role. A minor complaint regarding the artwork is that a lot of the book is set at night, leading to a lot of purples, browns, greys and blacks. It can make the book a little drab to look at in places.

Books of Doom is an essential read for any fans of Doctor Doom. It's not the greatest comic ever written, it's not even the greatest comic to make use of Doom, but Brubaker and Raimondi do a great job capturing the spirit of the character and do an put an entertaining, fresh spin on his origin tale. For anyone more concerned with plot than Doctor Doom there's a wonderful twist in the closing pages which is a real delight. All-in-all it’s something worth a look at, but not something that’s likely to make anyone’s top reads list.

Batman: The Killing Joke

As its title indicates Batman: The Killing Joke is as much a Joker book as a Batman book. This may not seem particularly noteworthy now, when an entire month’s worth of DC comics can be dedicated to pushing villains to the fore and there are almost as many anti-heroes as there are straight villains. But in the late eighties the approach was still new enough to be a novelty. Even with a big name baddie like Joker. Which was almost certainly a factor when Alan Moore decided he wanted to write it.

The plot is fairly basic. Joker targets Commissioner Gordon with a series of vicious pranks and attacks, his goal bring to prove that anyone can be taken down to their lowest, insane ebb with one bad day. Batman saves the day (natch) by tussling with Joker and saving Gordon from his seemingly overwhelming despair. Along the way we get a look at The Joker before he became The Joker and Barbara ‘Batgirl’ Gordon gets shot.

I'm paraphrasing but that's the basic gist.

The shooting was a rare example of a comic book occurrence that had a long term impact. Barbara remained paralysed until DC’s line-wide reboot in 2011. It wasn’t something cynically dreamt up to create a readership spike, it was something Moore devised to have dramatic impact. It did and does.

As a Batman comic it works. It does something new with established characters without betraying their roots or emotions and captures the gritty feel of Gotham City. As an Alan Moore comic it also works. A bad guy dragging a morally courageous man down to his level just because he can is exactly the sort of thing Alan Moore is known for writing.  

The book is well-written and nicely paced over its dozens of pages. It's entertaining and benefits from some lovely art provided by Brian Bolland (with the deluxe edition currently on bookshelves getting a great recolour job also provided by Bolland). Perhaps most importantly it followed on from the themes that began with Frank Miller’s The Dark Knight Returns and played into the darkening of the Batman character. That's something we take for granted now as it's been the standard approach for twenty-five years, but it wasn't the guaranteed recipe for success when written that it is now. The approach has been a factor in the character's longevity, and we have Alan Moore (as well as Miller) to thank for that.

Umbrella Academy: Apocalypse Suite

Umbrella Academy: Apocalypse Suite is the first professional comic book work of musician Gerard Way. For a debut it is incredibly good. Way has a clear voice as a writer and shows a good understanding of how to put a comic together. Everything from the story’s pacing to cutting between scenes is written as competently as any experienced professional.

Umbrella Academy: Apocalypse Suite is also the first major comic book work of artist Gabriel Bá. His work is just as impressive. Clearly heavily inspired by Mike Mignola (Bá went on to work on a B.P.R.D. series in 2009) he enjoys heavy shadows and excels at drawing outlandish grotesques. He handles everything from quiet character moments to action sequences with equal aplomb.

Umbrella Academy: Apocalypse Suite opens with a half issue explanation of the general premise and setup. Forty-three babies were spontaneously birthed at the exact same moment, each with special powers. Seven of them were adopted by noted Renaissance man Reginald Hargreeves, known in some circles as The Monocle. His reason for raising them is to train them to save the world.

… And now for a new paragraph that doesn’t begin with the comic’s name.

The plot of the other five and a half issues focuses on an impending End Of The World event triggered by a reunion of the group. It’s here where Way’s ideas become rather heavy, the general premise of an impending apocalypse almost, but not quite, being outweighed by a plague of floating robotic heads, a throwaway villain who’s more plot device than anything else, and a load of unexplained animosity between the adopted siblings. Fair enough not giving us all the answers to that last one helps to build some mystery but to give us nothing at all is ridiculous.

This is far from a perfect comic though. Way has an impressive number of ideas on display, but I can’t help thinking that the book would have been better had it featured one or two less. Nothing is dreadfully underdeveloped but it would have been nice for some things to be fleshed out just a little. This is probably down to the old problem of a first time author wanting to get all their ideas into something in case they never get anything published again. It’s understandable but does detract from some of the book’s better concepts.

It’s no surprise that Grant Morrison wrote a foreword to the collected volume and was quoted as saying it’s “an ultraviolent psychedelic sherbet bomb.” The excess on display is right out of his playbook. But at least Way has the excuse of this being his first piece of work. And for that reason I feel that I may be being a little unfair. It’s rare for someone to write something this good, with such an understanding of the medium, on their first try. Way clearly isn’t just a minor celebrity (he’s the lead singer of My Chemical Romance… which will probably mean something to those of you who take an interest in music) who lucked into getting published. He’s a fan who wants to contribute something to the comic book industry.

The Ultimates 3

The first and second series of The Ultimates were both important titles. They helped establish Mark Millar as a major name at ‘The House of Ideas’, effectively setting him up to become one of the biggest writers in comicdom a few years later. They affirmed that Marvel’s Ultimate line was to be considered synonymous with the very best the company had to offer. And they were amongst the finest books turned out in the first decade of the century. A great deal of good was done by Hitch and Millar’s Ultimates books.

Naturally Marvel was keen to keep the title going. Unfortunately, for them and us, Millar was less keen to remain involved. Feeling he’d told all the stories he wanted to with the Ultimates team and wanting to work with different characters, both Marvel properties and his own, Millar declined an invitation to write The Ultimates 3.

The company was tasked with finding a new writer for the series. What they needed was someone familiar with the first two series, and the characters used in them, who was keen to do something new and exciting that followed on from Millar’s work. Ideally they would have given the book to a young writer who’d proven themselves on an expendable title or two who could have used The Ultimates 3 to establish themselves in the same fashion Millar had.

Instead it went to Jeph Loeb.

New ideas are not Loeb’s strong suit. Where Millar gave us a fresh and interesting take on well-worn characters, making them feel new again, Loeb did everything in his power to rework them to be more in line with their traditional portrayals. Which spectacularly missed the point of the Ultimate line, of course. Cap goes from being a man out of time to a generic square-jawed hero, Black Widow becomes a sex kitten double agent, and Thor inexplicably starts chatting like a Shakespeare character, ignoring the eco warrior theme he’d had under Millar. There are other examples. These are simply the worst.

Along with his complete non-understanding of the title’s original appeal Loeb also failed to provide an interesting storyline. Where Millar had provided fittingly large scale plots involving alien invasion and Nazi criminals (it’s more inventive than it sounds, I promise) Loeb tells the tale of a sex tape and a sentient robot butler. These are not subjects that should be off limits to comics, but they are subjects and storylines that should have been off limits to an incredibly successful action title being produced by Marvel.

He also went overboard with cameos and continuity. This is a trademark of his. We were “treated” to appearances by the likes of Spider-Man, Magneto and Sabretooth, the pointless debut of Hank Pym’s Yellowjacket garb, and the addition of Valkyrie, Wolverine, Black Panther and others to the team so that Loeb can play at writing mysteries (which he seems to think he’s rather good at, which would make him wrong as well as a poor writer). None of it adds anything to the story beyond a cheap thrill. The continuity was worse, mostly because Loeb didn’t have sufficient knowledge of what had gone before. At times it’s as though he thinks he’s writing for Marvel’s regular continuity, which, again, completely misses the point of the Ultimate line.

Adding to the woe was the exit of artist Bryan Hitch alongside Mark Millar. To my knowledge he’s never stated why he left The Ultimates but it would seem safe to assume he wanted fresh work. As good as Millar’s Ultimates scripts were it’s easy to imagine Hitch wanting to draw something else.

Replacing him was Joe Madureira. He’s not a bad artist but his work was so different from Hitch’s that it failed to feel like the same book. And as it was presented as a continuation of what had gone before that was a bit of a problem. His artwork just didn’t gel with the tone people were expecting.

At the time it was clear that The Ultimates 3 was a terrible comic series. Loeb and Madureira were entirely the wrong people for the task of continuing the sterling work of Millar and Hitch and they produced something bad. With hindsight it’s worse than simply being a bad comic. With hindsight The Ultimates 3 is where the entire Ultimate line took a dive in quality that it never recovered from.