Author: Luke M.

Story by Dan Abnett & Andy Lanning
Art by Leandro Fernandez

The New Mutants – under the new leadership of Dani Moonstar – are now the X-Men’s clean-up crew, charged with closing all of the loose ends left behind by the core team’s many and varied conflicts. Their first mission: find Nate Grey – X-Man.

Issue 26’s first few pages introduce us to Donny, a young former-mutant who lost his powers on M-Day. Donny’s story is surprisingly compelling for the half-issue that’s spent on it, and Dan Abnett & Andy Lanning use it as an intriguing and elegant introduction to Sugar Man’s true objective. Donny’s arc in this issue is purposely predictable: you can see exactly where he’s headed, but nothing can be done about it, which makes you really feel for this kid who just wants his powers back.

On the other side of the coin, it’s nice to see the New Mutants out without a chaperone, following a purpose all their own. The “clean up team” angle is a nice tack to take with them, and this book feels a bit less like an X-book and more like a detective story. While I understand that no mutant-related story arc can go much more than an issue without fisticuffs, it’s nice to see the team work outside of a combat situation once in a while.

Abnett & Lanning’s concentration on dialogue in this issue really works to flesh out not only the team’s new objective, but lends weight to what could have been a forgettable side-character in Donny. Sugar Man has always been a bit on the absurd side, but he’s given an almost likable manipulative streak here that adds significant depth to his malevolence.

I hope to see more of the New Mutants as they are portrayed here: detectives hunting down the leavings of the X-Men’s poor planning.

Story by Tim Seeley
Art by Kyle Strahm

Following the conclusion of the first arc of the new Hack/Slash series, issue #5 is a one-shot centered around the return of a godlike jungle protector named Fantomah. Fantomah shows up on Cassie’s doorstep to recruit her for a mission, luring her in with the promise of being able to infiltrate and destroy the Black Lamp once and for all. But not all is as it seems…

Issue 5 is a comparatively weak follow-up to the first 4-issue arc. Very little of consequence occurs, and even the series trademark cheeseball is a little lacking. The entire car-ride with Fantomah feels discombobulated, an oddly pointless discussion that hints at later impact and leads nowhere. The fight that encompasses most of the latter part of the book feels equally muddled, and ultimately lacks consequence.

Much of this confusion can be attributed to Kyle Strahm’s art. Previously, Daniel Leister’s art was sleek and well suited to the subject matter, lending the requisite sexy charm to the leading ladies and humanizing characters like Vlad and Pooch enough to make them likable. The switch to Strahm’s rough figures and gritty linework will be jarring to readers accustomed to Leister’s art, and his characterizations of some of the characters (Pooch in particular) feel off. Everything in the book comes across monstrous, draining the women of their sex appeal.

Additionally, his choice of viewpoint and framing in many later panels adds undue confusion to the final few scenes, but Seeley’s script doesn’t really help. This book feels like a throw away story that Seeley tossed into the mix as filler between arcs, which is disappointing after such a strong start for the book’s new incarnation. Hopefully things pick up with issue 6.

Story by Zeb Wells
Art by Clayton Crain

After freeing herself from the artificial arm that contained a portion of the Carnage symbiote, Dr Tanis Nieves watches as it attaches itself to Shriek and the pair begin a murderous, mind-control fueled riot. Meanwhile, Spidey and Iron Man must deal with Mass Carnage, a new, partially mechanized form that Cletus Kasady creates using a mishmash of Hall Industries symbiote-hybrid armor and the corpses of the soldiers once contained within.

Zeb Wells spins a terrific tale with Carnage, a character that has caught a lot of flak over the years. His characterization is still simplistic – let’s face it, Cletus is a psychotic moron with delusions of grandeur, made even more dangerous by the symbiote. The mega-Carnage is a nice twist on the character, however, and the inclusion of Iron Man in the fight makes for some interesting interactions with the Hall Industries technology.

The conflict between Tanis and Shriek actually steals the show in this issue, though. While the fight against Carnage is a fun, shallow super-fight, Tanis’s arc has a more personal air to it. Her struggle in this issue is entirely internal, and the choice with which she is faced an agonizing one. The resolution of that half of the story was by far more compelling than Super Hyper Mega Action Go-Go Carnage.

Clayton Crain’s art – while gorgeous – shows shades of a deadline crunch at points. It’s clear that less care was taken with some pages than others, which is generally more obvious with painted art. That being said, the overall look of the book is simply stunning.

This is a fitting wrap up to an entertaining Carnage mini-series, and bodes well for Wells & Crain’s next team up, Carnage U.S.A.

Story by Dan Abnett & Andy Lanning
Art by Javier Pina & Ramon Bachs

Stan Lee’s Soldier Zero tells the story of Stewart Trautmann, a formerly diabled veteran of the war in Afghanistan who has become bonded to a sentient alien battle-suit after an incident in Los Alamos, New Mexico. Unfortunately, that’s the same story we are told for the entirety of this latest issue, via a stilted and awkward conversation between Stewart and his travelling companion Kaylee Sakai.

After the previous conflict – a span of only a few days told over the first 8 issues – it is clear that issue 9 is meant to be a jumping-off point for new readers. As the start of a new arc, however, the issue is entirely exposition as we follow Stewart and Kaylee’s wanderings in the Washington state backwoods. There’s not much in the way of story advancement here, save for a brief (and somewhat confusing) interlude to an interrogation, and the book’s ending feels like it came about four pages too soon.

Javier Pina’s art is solid as always, but he’s given very little to work with here. One very cleverly drawn scene of Stewart almost mistakenly entering a handicapped restroom would have been interesting if left to convey the message by itself, but the writers found it necessary to insert an explanatory text bubble, as they don’t trust the reader to understand the art.

Soldier Zero has been a decent entry in the Boom Studios Stan Lee universe up until this point, but this issue fails on almost every level. As an issue of an ongoing series it will annoy regular followers, and as a starting point for new readers it’s just plain boring, and doesn’t offer a representative look at the overall story.

Story by Chuck Dixon
Art by Robert Atkins

As a child of the 80’s, I grew up on a steady diet of Robotech, Transformers, and G.I. Joe, with my introduction to comics coming from the latter two. G.I. Joe has always had a solid stable of likeable characters, but no one character ever embodied everything a kid wanted to be like Snake Eyes.

The second issue of Snake Eyes is another solid entry in IDW’s stable of G.I. Joe comics. The issue flips back and forth between Snake and crew infiltrating (read: “invading”) Khalikhan’s mountain stronghold and flashbacks of a naturally one-sided “conversation” between Snake and Scarlett. The scenes in Khalikhan’s palace carry a sufficient level of badassery to live up to Snake’s character, and the flashback scenes offer a touching glimpse into his relationships with some of his teammates, lending a little more depth to the wordless killing machine.

For all of the love and nostalgia I have for Snake Eyes, I was initially skeptical that Chuck Dixon could pull off a book centered around a character that doesn’t speak. He handles the situation eloquently, though, by injecting (mostly) realistic dialogue between the supporting characters to fill the spaces and keep things moving. I never felt the book was bogged down by excessive dialogue or depictions of Snake trying to get his point across non-verbally.

Robert Atkins’ art is adequate, but takes a severe dip in quality in the last few pages of the book. This is easy to disguise in an action sequence, but it is most noticeable on one of the last – and most important – flashback scenes with Scarlett, and has the unfortunate effect of degrading the scene’s impact.

Overall, a good Joe book and a must-have for anyone who grew up as enamored with Snake Eyes as I was… Am.

Story by Victor Kalvachev, Kosta Yanev & Andrew Osborne
Art by Victor Kalvachev, Toby Cypress, Nathan Fox & Robert Valley

Blue Estate #3 once again picks up right where the previous issue left off, with the detention of two college football players who got indecent with Cherry Popz at the Smokin’ Barrel strip club. That particular thread plays out fairly quickly, though, and the rest of the issue focuses on a meeting between drug dealer Alyosha the Lion and Tony Luciano, who we saw trying to unload a house in issue #2.

The strength of Osborne’s script is entirely in his dialogue. He is able to breath life into the voices of his characters in much the same way as Brian Azzarello did in 100 Bullets, which makes for intriguing reading. The weakness of the script is that it lacks direction, and it’s hard to figure out where the scenes depicted in the last two books are leading. Osborne, Kalvachev, and Yanev have yet to depict any end goal for any of the characters so we, the readers, have very little to grasp while we’re pulled into their lightly intertwining lives.

The artwork varies quite a bit between the books four artists, but Kalvachev (pulling the duty of Art Director) infuses the book with an overarching style that allows the different art styles to remain mostly cohesive in spite of seemingly random change-points. The mixture of art styles might not be for everyone, but it mixes well with the book’s crime-drama underpinnings.

Unfortunately, expertly-crafted dialogue is not enough to maintain interest in a story that feels ultimately without purpose. All of the ingredients for an intriguing story have been tossed into the pot, but no one’s turning on the heat just yet.

Story by Owen Wiseman
Art by Nam Kim

Set in 17th century Japan, Samurai’s Blood tells the story of three teenagers torn from their lives by the treachery of the Tokugawa clan. After the daimyo Sanjo Ujimori is betrayed and assassinated by members of his court, the betrayers set out to wipe all those loyal to the Sanjo clan from existence.

I’m a sucker for medieval samurai tales. One of my favorite books – before the unfortunate demise of CrossGen – was Ron Marz and Bart Sears’ The Path. Regal and honor-bound samurai warriors on a quest to right wrongs amongst a sea of treachery is a story told countless times, and one that I would follow to my grave. Although there is nothing extraordinary or ground-breaking here, Samurai’s Blood #1 is a well-executed start to a potentially engrossing saga.

Despite the somewhat derivative nature of the storyline, Wiseman crafts an adventure populated by intriguing protagonists full of charm and depth, even though their enemies are stereotypically one-dimensional. Perhaps the shallow nature of the book’s villains is a benefit, though, allowing the reader to see them merely as an opposing force – an obstacle for our heroes – and to focus on the relationship that will inevitably form between these three teenagers.

I have no complaints about Nam Kim’s art. His style lends itself well to the script, and although there’s nothing extraordinary about his pages, his work is solid and moves the story along at a nice pace. I found myself drawn to his beautiful depictions of the landscapes surrounding the characters, though, which turned out to be oddly distracting.

I’ll be picking up the 6-issue run of Samurai’s Blood, and if you’re as big a fan of samurai adventure tales as me, I’d suggest you do the same. Even if you’re not, you can’t really go wrong with this book’s $1 cover price.

Story by Kurtis Wiebe
Art by Riley Rossmo

I’ll be the first to admit that I don’t get Green Wake. From the very start I’ve been confused by Wiebe’s noir(ish) murder mystery, because he layers his world with so much pretentious existentialism that I have trouble understanding what, exactly, I’m supposed to care about. The latest issue doesn’t help matters, opening up more threads than it closes and not really hinting toward a real resolution.

We are given several insights into detective Morley’s life before, both via flashbacks and an impenetrable conversation with a priest named Ishum, and we follow murder-suspect Ariel as she flees from Morley’s pursuit and into the presence of a town prophet who claims to have the key to escaping Green Wake. Woven into these plotlines is some sort of wraith creature whose appearance we are told “will not make sense”, random appearances by other half-human creatures, and a vision of some behemoth corpse-toad.

It doesn’t help that I’m not nearly as enamored with Riley Rossmo’s art as others seem to be. While his sketchy style may be a perfect compliment to Wiebe’s haphazard scripting, I’m left feeling only that there could be some beautiful art buried beneath all those needless scribbles. His tendency to add impact with shocks of color might work for some, but here it feels as though it’s being used to distract the reader from otherwise muddled artwork.

And after all of that, I’m still not sure of the point of it all. I feel like there are interesting nuggets to be sifted from Green Wake, but Wiebe has neither given me the tools to do so, nor the hooks to make me want to.

Story by Arvid Nelson
Art by Lui Antonio

Having been separated from Deja and Sola as they escaped from the green Martian caravan, John Carter awakes before a great desert complex on the brink of death.

This is only the beginning of an issue that spans a significant amount of story in a very short space. The minor plot points contained within could have been expanded into a multi-issue arc, but each beat is instead compressed into a few pages before moving on to the next. Arvid Nelson handles the transitions gracefully, though, and the issue flows well without getting too choppy.

It does, however, have a slight “get from point A to point B” feel to it, with some moments feeling rather forced. The conversation with the Jeddak’s butler at the end of the issue felt somewhat rapid-fire, but the final page brings the necessity of that rush into focus. Overall I enjoyed the journey, but at times I wished I could have spent more time with some of the characters and locales.

Antonio’s art went a long way toward adding to that feeling. Between his characters and layouts and Adriano Lucas’s vibrant colors, the artwork does a fine job of drawing you into Edgar Rice Burroughs’s Mars-scape and making you wish to linger just a little bit longer. If I have one complaint about the art it’s that the colors, while lush, were a little inconsistent, especially when portraying John Carter’s altered skin color.

Warlord of Mars #7 is a bridge issue, portraying many of John Carter’s travails en route to returning to Deja Thoris. While not as focused as I would have liked, the issue is fast and smoothly paced. I’m enjoying this adaptation of ERB’s original story so far – Warlord of Mars is worth a look.

Story by Joe R. Lansdale
Art by Sam Keith

I’m not sure where to begin with 30 Days of Night: Night, Again, so I’ll start by saying that I wasn’t as enamored with Steve Niles & Ben Templesmith’s original work as many others were. I found the concept interesting but poorly executed, and it never really caught my interest.

Night, Again takes “poorly executed” to a whole new level. Joe Lansdale’s script is as vapid as it is pointless, devoid of any redeeming qualities that would make reading the book even mildly interesting. Characters’ actions make little sense, and there isn’t a likable or identifiable personality among them. Between the one-dimensional crew of Barrow survivors and a group of the dumbest “scientists” ever depicted in fiction, I was never able to identify a protagonist in the story. It’s almost as if Lansdale wants me to root for the entire cast’s destruction.

Unfortunately, even the brand’s trademark vampires are poorly represented here, making it impossible even to support them in that respect. They are merely tools for senseless gore, and their pursuit of the main characters is such a crudely constructed plot hook that you just want it to be over. Simultaneously, a second plotline involving a group of climate change researchers (aided by plenty of the writer’s hammer of a political agenda) is so asinine that I was left gaping like an imbecile at the end of the book.

Sam Keith’s artwork brings nothing but disappointment, especially for anyone who remembers his glory days on The Maxx and Wolverine. His work on this book is so lazy as to almost be insulting that IDW would even consider it finished.

No matter how hard I try, I can’t find a single redeeming quality in Night, Again.