Ohio

Ohio begins with a funeral and ends in murder. What happens in between is as depressing as a high school reunion, but man, Stephen Markley’s writing elevates the wrist-slashing fatigue into a Stanley Kubrick-like, art-house style circa Clockwork Orange. Still, Ohio is 500-page work that feels like it takes all four years of the riding the after-activities bus route to read through.

Markley recounts the impromptu high school reunion of 2013 following the incredibly-pitiful-it’s-laughable funeral of fallen solider Rick Brinkland as told through the antics and mostly-troubled thoughts of four New Canaan alum, each getting a novella to tell their tales of woes: of trying to fit in, on being attracted to the wrong gal or guy, running away from responsibility, and the youthful persistence of taking the moral high road. After all, if Kevin Smith’s Clerks taught us anything, it’s that’s what high school is all about: algebra, bad lunch, and infidelity. Markley would add “with a ton of drugs” to that statement as apparently that’s all early 21^st century kids in the Rust Belt seem to do. Ohio captures all of that and more. Sometimes, that’s too much.

Like its namesake river and the first ten years of the Columbus Blue Jackets’ existence, Ohio rambles on and becomes unwieldy. Markley’s accounts run so deep an Excel spreadsheet is needed to capture the dramatis personae, their nicknames, associates, sexual partners, and addiction of choice, because there is four years’ of catch up required for the reader while the story’s hook, that of the murder mystery, comes so late in the final act it’s nearly a post-credits zinger in a Marvel Studios film.

Aside from the back-and-forth storytelling told by a former basketball player, a beauty queen, a cheerleader, and a nerd, Markley builds a heavy universe, and one that is completely recognizable as anywhere in America and has the scars to prove it. Ohio may be depressing and fatalistic, but Markley’s craft brings a shine to this Shinola and casts a sense of importance to any of the fatalism plaguing fulfillment-seeking millennials. Unfortunately, this nine-course meal version of a history lesson suffers from distention well before any sort of a hopeful moral can be splashed back with Scotch.


Serious thanks to NetGalley and Simon & Schuster for the ARC. I just need a restorative nap and a mini-marathon of Teen Titans Go! for the laughs and I’ll be good to go.


As Always,
theJOE

Slugfest: Marvel vs DC

Looking back on 50 years of comic book history, Reed Tucker unleashes his story of the ultimate cosmic combat where punches and fights and battles were not limited to the four-color world of super-heroes and god-like deities, but instead happened between the editors and creators of the two biggest and best of comic book champions: Marvel and DC.

Slugfest: Inside the Epic, 50-year Battle between Marvel and DC meticulously compiles hundreds of interviews and creates a narrative for the fanboy ages that is as entertaining as it is sometimes embarrassing. Similar in scope to Marvel Comics: The Untold History by Sean Howe, Slugfest parallels the rise and fall and rise and fall again of these titans of industry. Tucker gets into the moving parts of both offices, the reigns and fiefdoms established by editor-in-chiefs, and their constant bickering and one-upmanship. However, Tucker’s seemingly Marvel-slanted bias is underlying in the narrative.

Throughout Slugfest, Tucker constantly places the stoic and established DC up against Marvel, who is eternally portrayed as the scrappy underdog. Even when Marvel finally becomes Number One in the industry, these two motifs never change in the book, even though, as a fan of comics in the eighties and nineties, such a paradigm shift did indeed happen. DC Comics, properly recognizing the success of The Dark Knight Returns, and Watchmen, and Swamp Thing and Sandman, jumped full-force into adult-oriented comics and completely owned that particular market, a fact that Marvel was never able to accomplish, as industry-recognized awards can verify. Slugfest glances over such details, presenting instead overall company sales percentages.

Naturally, as a comic book fan, there are many points where the book could have gone deeper, from Jim Shooter’s firing at Marvel to DC’s acquisition of the Charleton Comics line, how the creation of Image changed the status-quo for creator-owned series, and the wrangling of established writers from outside the industry. The largest slight missed in Slugfest is that of the fan’s perspective. As a fan and one-time avid reader of both companies, I never bothered with what was the top-selling comic and who reigned the charts. I cared about the actual product. And for a long time in the late eighties and into the nineties, there was a constant every fan knew: Marvel had the artists, but DC had the writers. DC was the place if you cared about a story and a character’s arc, while Marvel zombies were delighted with eye-candy spectacles. After all, DC never released a swimsuit special. Right?

Slugfest is a fun, recommended read, and completely relevant for today’s market where, the comic titles themselves be damned, Marvel dominates the cinema, yet DC TV is, well, scrappy and entertaining. Tucker’s account of it all is a treat, well establishing the fact that the true victor of any such conflict is the fan, who can watch the combat unfold, the sparks fly, the punches thrown, and read stories that remain yet untold.


As Always,
theJOE

The Bigger Picture

Ben Fritz of the Wall Street Journal loves movies. He is passionate about the experience of communally watching a film, the unique ability for artists to tell their stories, and the Hollywood business machine behind it all. But man, he hates franchise features. From Marvel and DC to Star Wars and Star Trek to dinosaurs and robots, he sees these spectacles as indie film destroyers and creative blockers. To some extent, he might be right. What Fritz seems to have forgotten along the way, and a point that is only marginally made during the wrap-up of his book The Big Picture, is that movies, yes, even those about super-heroes and Jedis, are supposed to elicit an emotional response, be that enjoyable, fun, or even disturbing. The Big Picture is an important, topical,

timely read, and one that can be quite depressing at times in regards to the state of the industry, and with that fact that he just can’t get over that super-hero hurtle.

Fritz focuses his book on the parallel fall of both Sony Pictures and of mid-budget adult dramas industry-wide. Taking advantage of 2014’s hack, Fritz provides incredible insight into the studio that, honestly, never could have happened if that hack did not occur. The book runs with a documentary style narrative on Amy Pascal, Michael Lynton, and Sony’s quest to remain as an actor-friendly studio in an era where big-budget franchises quickly became the rage of the machine, and at a time when Sony had one, single franchise, that surprisingly couldn’t compete: Spider-Man. Fritz’s on-going commentary, about how the franchises being overseen by the Disney umbrella (incorporating Marvel, Lucasfilm and Pixar), Warner Bros, and Fox propelled those studios ahead of the others by incredible margins with arguably less creativity, however, quickly becomes repetitive. He’s a voice in the wilderness screaming for common sense and a return to artistic measures, but one that is being smothered by the mass of fanboys, geeks, wizards, and Disney princess consumers.

But what if today’s current state is not all bad? Yes, studios have pared down their offerings, but what if in doing so, they are making better films? Creative films with substance guided by an artistic venture and not a committee? Fritz breaks down the financials of how a film like Steve Jobs may or may not make a profit and expands that equation to the first Spider-Man film by Sam Raimi. Yet he never scores an interview with an actor or director who made it big, and whose work benefited as a result of being in such a franchise. An artist, like Jon Watts who, regardless of making Cop Car, might never have achieved a grand success were it not for Spider-Man: Homecoming, or an actor such as John Boyega getting his huge break with The Force Awakens.

As part of those financials, Fritz gets into the former importance of DVD sales, and how the loss of that income was instrumental into the disappearance of mid-range fare. VOD and direct-release methods were discussed as alternatives, but financials on digital purchases and rentals were not given any viable notice. And perhaps it is still too early for analytics on such info. However, can it not be said that the successes of the X-Men and Deadpool films can directly lead into allowing studios, such as Fox, to release The Shape of Water and Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri? Fritz only makes tangible connections.

Look, I am an indie film snob. I’m the guy hitting film festivals to see the latest from Jim Jarmusch and Wes Anderson while boycotting Michael Bay nonsense and Seth MacFarlane comedies. I prefer those serious dramas that compel thought and analyzation, to experience that fresh creative vibe. But man, the geek in me eats away at Marvel, Star Wars and Star Trek, franchises that I will defend as much as I love Bottle Rocket and Ghost Dog. I think there can be such compromise between art and commercialism. I think that if people are going to the cinema, even if it’s, ugh, Sausage Party, then the medium is being absorbed, and propagated. And that should be considered a win.

The Big Picture is a good read and a fantastic insider’s look into the studio system. However, the removal of the constant commentary could have reduced this repetitive-at-times read from a full book to a powerful article in the New Yorker.

Many thanks to Houghton Mifflin Harcourt and NetGalley for the advance reader’s copy. I find it deliciously ironic that I am writing this review on the eve of possibly the greatest franchise release of all time: Avengers: Infinity War. I have tickets for Saturday’s show.


As Always,
theJOE

Thankfully, not Endless

The Sandman:
Endless Nights

An extremely uneven collection both in story and art. Seeing as how Neil Gaiman, who created both Sandman and his brethren the Endless, wrote all seven chapters, this can be frustratingly odd, as Gaiman usually brings his a-game. However, one can look at this collection with the understanding that he, along with some of his artistic collaborators, were simply in the mood for exploration.

The Sandman: Endless Nights contains seven chapters, each depicting a tale that spotlights a member of the eternal Endless. At least that’s the concept, even if not fully demonstrated. “Fifteen Portraits of Despair” is exactly that, fifteen vignettes of personal, rather than the entity’s, woe presented, with what we’ll call art, by Barron Storey. “On the Peninsula”, supposedly Destruction’s story, instead focuses on two archaeologists, as well as Delirium, but not as much of the lone brother whose name graces the chapter page. However, the concluding story, on Destiny, does indeed prominently show the character… as he walks through his garden.

The other four tales are all much more in line with both the characters and the prose expected by Gaiman, and all with beautiful art. Particular of note is Delirium’s “Going Inside” as Bill Sienkiewicz’s mixed-media renderings are a fantastic call back to his early Marvel work.

Endless Nights was published in 2003, which is when I originally read, and promptly forgot about, this graphic novel. Mostly targeted towards series completists, this novel is completely accessible for all of Neil’s impressive fanbase as he delves into the realms of fantasy and history, science-fiction and horror, and, of course, dreams. Gaiman’s library, however, certainly contains other top-shelf reads for the promotion of a good night’s sleep. Endless or not.


As Always,
theJOE

Far Out Cosmic Fun –or– A Surfboard is way cooler than a Police Call Box

Fun.

Pure, undiluted, make-you-smile fun. How’s that for a review on Dan Slott and Mike Allred’s Silver Surfer: New Dawn graphic novel?

The Surfer has always been a personal favorite. Be it Stan “The Man” Lee and Big John Buscema’s angst-ridden late sixties run, or the Jim Starlin-Ron Marz-Ron Lim galaxy-crushing saga from the eighties/nineties. But many times, the Surfer’s stories can be heavy, both emotionally and thematically, with deep ties to back-story and cosmic ramifications involving the greater Marvel Universe. Not so here. Seen through the wide-and-accepting eyes of Dawn Greenwood, Slott’s clever scripting has the reader jump into the action with catch-up-as-you-go dialogue as Allred’s visuals hearken back to a Kirby-infused style yet retain his trademark pop-culture feel. The result is a lighthearted, fast-and-fun romp that ends much too soon.

Although Slott unabashedly steals the concept and motif for these stories from Doctor Who, the format works. The Silver Surfer, as a former herald of the world-devourer Galactus and now wielder of the power cosmic, makes for a great master with Dawn as a completely-likable and understanding companion. Yeah, his surfboard is not bigger on the inside, but it does respond to vocal commands. And Dawn? She actually makes the Surfer laugh. Which then makes me laugh.

So yeah, fun. Cosmic style.

As Always,

theJOE 

Thor: The Dark World, perhaps?

Marvel Comics in the early- to mid-eighties was undergoing a transformative time of progressive change. Frank Miller was redefining Daredevil and placing the blind hero up against ninjas. Denny O’Neil catapulted Tony Stark into the ravings of serious alcoholism forcing James Rhodes to wear the suit in Iron Man. Chris Claremont and John Byrne were deep into making the all-new, all-different X-Men become counter-culture saviors. And in Thor, Walt Simonson did away with the Donald Blake identity, replaced the title character entirely with a horse-faced alien and even briefly made the Thunder God a frog. And it was cool.

Walt Simonson’s four-year run on Marvel’s Thor is not only one of the title’s most acclaimed runs, but also one of Simonson’s most known works where not only his art and designs, but his skill as a writer, worked in exemplary union. Simonson has since written and drawn scores of projects, but Thor had always been a highlight. Having Walt Simonson return to Thor? A fanboy dream.

Ragnarok, from IDW, not Marvel, provides such a dream in a certain manner. Simonson writes and draws a different, perhaps more in line with the mythos, Thor adventure taking place in a time of a fallen Asgard, in the post-apocalyptic twilight of the Norse gods. And Simonson’s artwork is amazing. Every panel, every splash page, every call to attention, proves that he is still a master on this or on any of the Nine Realms. And for all of the effort on the art, the writing is merely pedestrian.

Within the pages of Ragnarok, which should have been titled After-Ragnarok, or Ragnarok Aftermath, or The Walking Asgardian, Thor, once presumed dead but really is just missing a lower jaw, has been awoken and begins to take account of the world around him.  For the remaining time, in what is assumed the first of a series of graphic novel collections, he doesn’t do much than get into fights. And c’mon. This is Walt Simonson drawing Thor getting into fights with spectacular, over-the-top action. But there is no intrigue. The action, and the character, simply moves from place to place, from fight to fight. Who knew Ragnarok would be so tedious?

Simonson has a proven his writing chops on multiple occasions. His short, and sometimes overlooked, run on Fantastic Four was as fresh a take on Marvel’s first family as was his time in Asgard. In Ragnarok, the plot goes no deeper than providing an incredible showcase for Simonson’s art. If this series does indeed continue, let’s all pray that reality soon fulfills our dreams.


As always,
theJOE 

No Poison in this Sequel

Sometimes, sequels can be better than the starting off point, a fact that many Marvel movies can attest, as the origin-telling, that whole world building, has been set and accomplished. The sequel, if done properly, allows the protagonist to grow; to breathe and evolve. Success to Matthew FitzSimmons, then, as his second Gibson Vaughn novel, Poisonfeather, surpasses not only the story telling from The Short Drop, but also evolves Gibson as a character beyond that of a conflicted computer hacker. With Poisonfeather, FitzSimmons creates a terrifically deep tale involving a corrupt financial broker (yeah, yeah, an oxymoron. Noted.), Chinese spies, a Mexican cartel, an undercover bartender, an ex-con-turned-farmer, and an ex-con and his sister still doing the con thing – and it all works blending together into one, smooth read.  

FitzSimmons wisely sets Gibson onto a completely new path, building off The Short Drop, but not dwelling in it and, save for a few minor mentions, almost entirely ignores any of those unanswered questions from the first book. In doing so, Gibson becomes his own man and not merely a key member of a team. Gibson has faults, insecurities, and plenty of internal soul searching to do, but when set loose on a job, and for this read that  means swindling any and all money away from the aforementioned swindling broker, he comes to life; he is focused and intense. That being said, Poisonfeather’s finale comes with unexpected results, for both Gibson and the reader.

Poisonfeather definitely contains many elements familiar to both crime and noir genres – such as the obligatory shoot ‘em up and a blonde woman of mystery – but keeps up a quick pace and, during the course of the novel, makes Gibson a likable character, which does not fully happen in the first novel. Likable enough, to note, that the ending definitely begs for more Gibson Vaughn.

Thanks to NetGalley and Thomas & Mercer for the enjoyable advance read. I’m looking forward to the next installment.

As Always,
theJOE

CAGE needs more Power, Man

Marvel has had a successful outing on Netflix, and the latest, Luke Cage, certainly has all the makings of a another hit by the numbers. Critically speaking, this is the most disappointing of Marvel’s three series. By no means is Luke Cage  awful, rather, lacking at best and, for two episodes anyway, even downright boring.

Huge props to Mike Colter who plays the titular hero with swag, class and charm. This series has definitely shown that not only is he a good actor, but he can definitely lift the lifeblood of a show on his large, 2XL-shoulders, something that was questionable during his guest-star appearances on Jessica Jones.

What Luke Cage was lacking was an intense, and let’s face it, better-written villain. Mahershala Ali’s Cottonmouth had the potential to be something great – a Kingpin for Harlem, a character that has good intentions, but uses questionable means for execution – but was dispatched entirely too early for the inevitable rise and fall. Erik LaRay Harvey’s Diamondback was an ill-fitting substitute antagonist; a cliché comicbook villain with a one-note revenge scheme and an invisible moustache to twirl.

Marvel has been doing its best to ground these Netflix heroes, but in doing so, should have looked to past, counter to what Pops always told Luke, and instead of creating a super-powered force for the big street brawl, and maintained a Lou-Ferrigno-as-the-Hulk beat-down of goons with guns while smashing through walls. Sweet Christmas, that would have shown some power, man.

As Always,

theJOE

Jungle Action… via le Carre

The comic-industry tradition of inviting a celebrated author from outside the medium to craft and guide stories in the hopes of adding a new direction to an older, existing character and, more importantly for the business, of capturing the attention, and funding, of a new audience has met with mixed responses over the years. However, the introduction of new blood is generally viewed favorably. Judd Winick worked in pop-drama, Greg Rucka and Ed Brubaker had high-crime sensibilities, while Kevin Smith was… slow. And, sometimes that outsider’s vision must be tempered and edited to mix in with the established beat of the channel. Consumers sometimes do not get that instant gratification as the writer produces a slow burn. Here then, is Ta-Nehisi Coates’ introduction to Black Panther in A Nation Under Our Feet.

Coates goes forth and makes the Panther’s home nation of Wakanda the central character, going so far as even providing a map of the fictional locale. He questions the idea of a monarchy and postulates the beginnings of revolutions, be they philosophical or physical. He asks how a nation recovers from tragedy, and how it dreams of grandeur. Pretty lofty and exciting ideas for a mere comic book. However, in doing so, Coates nearly neglects the title character, the Black Panther himself. The result, is a slow, political read with flashes of action, like John le Carre set in Africa.

Coates’ story is tempting. How often does a superhero, and a member of the Avengers at that, have to deal with true-to-life democracy? Certainly, other established monarchs, such as Namor and DC’s Aquaman, spend much more time off the throne than actually on. The story can also be confusing with many elements and discussions occurring off-panel, the establishing of new players without full introductions. and the setup, coming off previous storylines, can especially be puzzling for new readers to the character.

However, Brian Stelfreeze’s magnificent artwork aside, the tease to the upcoming pay-off does tease well and provides insight into Coates’ long-play. Hopefully the end game will be worth it. And, maybe, we will get to see King T’Challa in the jungle action adventure he deserves.

As Always,

theJOE

Spectacular Uncanny Invincible

How else would one expect Stan (the Man) Lee to craft his own memoir than through a bombastic graphic novel, where he speaks to you like a friend about his MARVELous life - and he does this in the mighty manner that only Stan knows how. With fan-favorites Peter David and Colleen Doran along for the ride, the graphic novel explodes with four-color stories and secret origins a go-go. 

Unfortunately, the story doesn’t go any deeper than that.

Granted, AMAZING FANTASTIC INCREDIBLE is Stan Lee’s story, but so much about Stan is synonymous with Marvel Comics and aside from his tales on creating some of pop culture’s most known and loved characters, as well as a few of Marvel’s business owners’ problems, the memoir doesn’t dive deep into the bullpen. Instead, Stan crafts the tale he wants to tell – and tells it entertainingly well. 

For that deep dive, I highly recommend Sean Howe’s MARVEL COMICS THE UNTOLD STORY. In that novel, Howe prints a tale related by Jack “King” Kirby where Jack, who had since switched to working for DC, was being interviewed on a New York radio program. Before he could get into his relationship – and subsequent falling out – with Stan, Lee calls into the program, shanghais the interview with a barrage of superlatives, and promptly leaves. Afterwards, Kirby just sighed and said that conversation summed up his working relationship. AMAZING FANTASTIC INCREDIBLE left me feeling the same way. Explosions and exclamation points. Fun memories but nothing too deep. However, I think I was smiling a helluva lot more than Jack.

As always.
theJOE

No Normal and Great Fun

Chances are that if you are reading this review - and thanks for your time at that - you already have an interest, and at the very least an understanding, of the Ms Marvel character, so once you have finished reading this review, I highly recommend you open up another browser window and log on to your favorite online distributor to purchase MS MARVEL Vol 1: No Normal.

Writer Willow Wilson introduces and, over the course of five issues, familiarizes the character of Kamala Khan, a Muslim teen of Pakistani decent, who like any high school girl, heritage aside, just wants to have fun. Wilson makes Kamala a delight of a teen and a pleasure to read, infusing the character with both a strong moral right and heavy dose of angst, the likes of which are a very deep homage to Stan Lee and Steve Dikto's Spider-Man, and probably have not been accurately seen in comics since Marv Wolfman and George Perez's NEW TEEN TITANS.

Adrian Alphona's art is also a treat. His panels are full of fun little asides and silly happenings that provide a hip sense of humor to the proceedings. Two of my faves? Tasty GM-O's cereal and Radoslav's Vietnamese grocery. But there others worth the exploration.

There are perhaps two critical elements of the read, and the first is simply a by-product of producing a monthly title. That being, Kamala's power-giving event is never fully explained. Nothing as easy as a spider bite or a dose of gamma radiation here. This is something that will certainly be drawn out and discovered in the months - and collections - ahead but for the purpose of this graphic novel, comes as lacking. The second is a by-product of the genre at large, and that being the obligatory super-villain fight. For as genre-crushing as this title has been in every way, the necessary fight scene, the trial of our hero versus those shadows of the dark, is, unfortunately, not as organic as the other parts of this story, and comes across as a needed evil, not a threatening one. Luckily such encounter is not detrimental to the overall arc and, if anything, builds anticipation for the next collection.


As always,
theJOE

Disney Marvels at Whedon Assembly

If you have been a fan of the core Marvel Studios' films since 2008's IRON MAN, where the beginnings of the "Avengers Initiative" were first teased and carried through into the 2010 sequel as well as THE INCREDIBLE HULK, THOR and CAPTAIN America: THE FIRST AVENGER, then the AVENGERS will not disappoint. In fact, it very well might make you question why the other franchise films weren't as good as this fast- paced, funny, superhero showdown.


Marvel has been very focused and dedicated with the development of its properties under the Disney banner – and they no doubt wish that the Spider-Man and X-Men franchises could return to their fold, as it was the success of these earlier films that brought Marvel Comics out of bankruptcy – and has been providing solid entertainment from its creators and stars alike; by Odin's beard, Sir Kenneth Branagh directed THOR. Enter Joss Whedon, who created a weekly TV show in BUFFY THE VAMPIRE SLAYER that was a near-perfect example of a live-action comic book, to deliver a heavily-anticipated yet so-easy-to-fail production of getting such a diverse character set in a movie that worked. And worked it did.

The film gets off to a slow and even somewhat murky start as Loki, Thor's mischievous half-brother, played with a Anthony Hopkins-worthy sneer by Tom Hiddleston, appears, escapes from and is responsible for the destruction of a SHIELD HQ as well as the spiriting away of a few supporting characters including Stellan Skarsgard's Dr. Selvig, also of THOR, and Jeremy Renner's Hawkeye, getting the full movie treatment here, all under the semi-impotent glare of Samuel L. Jackson's one-eyed spy Nick Fury. Obviously Loki never saw Samuel L's wallet from another film.

The movie picks up with the re-introduction of Scarlett Johansson's Black Widow as Whedon has some fun showing what moves he could have presented in BUFFY if he had an Avengers-sized budget backing him up, but it truly gets bright when the three protagonists, Iron Man, Captain America, Thor, finally appear and, of course, get into a wrestling match to prove who has the biggest repulsor/shield/hammer. Once the team finally assembles, insanity, and the hilarity that often follows, ensues. Oh, and Mark Ruffalo proves that the Hulk can indeed smash.

Joss Whedon's adept skills, he also writes the screenplay, prove to be the other superhero powerhouse as he successfully created a production that pleases the hardcore fanboy who is aware of Thanos, the mainstream movie audience who thinks that Tony and Pepper are destined for each other, and his own loyal, core fan base of Browncoats. Each hero gets their own time to shine in situations worthy of a comicbook splash page. The rough-up dust-up of a third act that entirely deals with the assembled team involved in a street-level brawl in NYC against, what else, an invading alien army, could very well have became tedious, as admittedly, the obligatory interstellar menace is faceless, forgettable and seemingly invented for the sales of action figures, but the action, humor and allure of these powerful heroes is truly something unique and that magic is perfectly captured on the screen.

2008 saw the release of both IRON MAN and Warner Bros.' DARK KNIGHT. The result was that both films set the bar that future genre films would have to follow. In 2012 that bar was set yet again. What remains to be seen is if the upcoming DARK KNIGHT RISES film, as well as the sequels for IRON MAN, THOR and CAPTAIN America, will continue to raise that bar, or if they will all just... assemble.



As Always...
theJOE