Author: Luke M.

Story by Mike Mignola & Scott Allie
Art by Karl Moline

The Dead Remembered, a tale of B.P.R.D.’s history set in the early ‘70s and featuring an origin story of sorts for everyone’s favorite pyrokinetic Liz Sherman, concludes with Liz and her new friend Teddy venturing into the haunted woods to pursue the ghost that Professor Broom is attempting to exorcise from the house of his friend Father Vafides.

From issue 1, The Dead Remembered’s tale of the spirit of a woman persecuted in the Salem Witch Trials has taken a back seat to a story of Liz’s history and character. In issue 3, however, Liz’s presence feels more like the catalyst for the ghost storyline’s resolution, and little time is spent on her as a character of any depth. She’s represented more as a spoiled and petulant teenager than a tortured one, and there’s very little growth to be found.

The negative impact of shifting the focus of the arc back to the ghost story is compounded by the fact that its conclusion is mostly unsatisfying. One of the book’s key action beats happens off screen and the book’s “twist” – while not entirely predictable – just felt… unimportant. There’s no real impact to its revelation, and it draws attention away from what should be the book’s core.

There’s virtually no character development present in this book. That’s forgivable for the side characters (even Professor Broom), but for Liz it’s disappointing, especially since the arc is supposed to be about her. I was hoping that this story would conclude with a deeper look into the events that shaped the Liz we know today, but somewhere near the beginning of this issue her story faltered and never recovered.

In the end, issue #3 rounds out The Dead Remembered as a rather inconsequential B.P.R.D. ghost story. It fills some time, but never really fills in any gaps.

Story by Doug Murray & Frank Cho
Art by Alex Medellin

In the not-too-distant future, Earth’s resources are tapped by inevitable overpopulation. Humanity looks to the stars for its salvation, developing a faster-than-light “wormhole drive” that will allow expeditions to travel the necessary distances. Unfortunately, entering a wormhole kills anyone with a y-chromosome, leading to the recruitment of 50 women from around the globe whose genes contain only x-chromosomes.

If the premise sounds a bit absurd, that’s because it is. Co-created by Frank Cho, it’s no real surprise that the backbone of the book is a story based around an entirely female cast. It works relatively well, though, and introduces some interesting dynamics that will hopefully develop over time without leaning too far into overt eroticism.

The story in this first issue feels a little choppy, especially in the first few pages. An attempt is made to start the book on an action beat then rewind slightly, but the rewind isn’t represented well and comes across very confusing. Had the first two pages of the book simply been moved into chronological order, I think the scene represented there would have had just as much – if not more – impact.

Alex Medellin’s artwork is really where this book shines. Infused with a 50’s sci-fi vibe but written with modern sensibilities (ala Fear Agent), the book’s visuals are intriguing and fun. The most successful thing about Medellin’s artwork here is that even though all of the women in the book are stereotypically gorgeous, they are each unique and easy to differentiate from one another. I never found myself wondering which girl I was looking at – a frequent occurrence in other female-centric books like Y: The Last Man.

Overall, 50 Girls 50 is an interesting premise that makes for an enjoyable sci-fi excursion. If future issues and arcs can focus on the unique nature of the all-female cast, this could be a solid entry in the Image lineup.

Story by Joe Brusha, Linda Ly, & Raven Gregory
Art by Judit Tondora & Antonio Bifulco

Zenoscope’s newest book under the Grimm Fairy Tales brand takes a dark, high-fantasy look at the characters from Peter Pan, beginning with everyone’s favorite fairy, Tinkerbelle. Her story is one of betrayal, framed for the murder of the fairy realm’s princess and facing judgment from the queen.

Throughout the story the writing is amateurish, full of one-dimensional characters and a blundering, shallow plot that never finds a real resolution. Belle spends the entire book bemoaning her circumstances as she is bluntly manipulated by a group of fellow fairies, whose motives are never explained or even hinted at. All I was able to glean from this story is that a group of petty fairies decide that ignorance and affluence are reason enough for blackmail and murder.

A perfect complement to the insipid scripting is the artwork, provided by two artists so wildly different in style that their partnership on this book is somewhat senseless. Judit Tondora’s painted artwork is passable if a bit immature, reminiscent of early ‘90’s Magic: The Gathering artwork. Antonio Bifulco’s art, on the other hand, is unforgivably sketchy, at times so much as to look incomplete. Many of his pages look as though they simply included his roughs as finished artwork.

As a package, Tales From Neverland is simply awful. The book reads like vaguely erotic fan-fiction, aided by blatantly eroticized cover artwork and ridiculous character designs (is every fairy a cosplaying pornstar?). If you’re desperately itching for good alternate Neverland stories, go re-watch Hook.

Story by Robert Kirkman
Art by Jason Howard

The best Saturday morning cartoons have always straddled the line between acceptable children’s entertainment and referential enough for adults to enjoy. Cartoons like Transformers, X-Men, and Exo-Squad were some of the best at striking that balance. Super Dinosaur has made no bones about the fact that it’s a kid’s book, a Saturday morning cartoon in comic book form. Issue two picks up with SD testing out an awesome new harness while Bruce Kingston reveals some awesome new projects to make SD even more awesome. On the other side of the world, Max Maximus vamps about his secret plans and demonstrates his superiority over all dino-men.

Issue 2 never really settles into an appropriate voice, and feels too self-aware to ever appeal to an adult audience. To put it in the simplest terms: it’s trying too hard. The book touches on every superficial subject that would appeal to its target demographic from awesome dinosaur fights to awkward parental relations to teen angst to friendship to feeling like a misfit. Kirkman tries to cram all of this into a single issue and ladles in enough “Awesome!”s to choke McCauley Culkin (three in the first panel!). In the process he loses sight of the characterizations that would actually make the story interesting.

I understand that I’m not the target market for the book, but at times it almost feels like a failed parody of our favorite cartoons rather than an homage, and never really finds a groove. While it might appeal to a small number of the younger demographic, it doesn’t have the hooks to draw in a wider audience, and is ultimately an unsatisfying attempt at a young reader’s book. Maybe I’m just not awesome enough for it.

Story by Stuart Moore
Art by Carlos Rodruiguez & Sergio Arino

In the penultimate issue Namor: The First Mutant, Krang’s insurgency comes to a head after the murder of the royal logomancer, while a mysterious visitor triggers new horrible visions for Namor’s new lover Abira. Namor must deal with both problems resolutely or risk both his position as king and the well being of Atlantis as a whole.

It’s clear that Moore is driving toward an appropriate ending for the series. The Fire Down Below arc is suitably epic, but feels cramped in its small 3-issue space. Many developments are resolved unreasonably quickly, creating an awkward pace for the book. Due to the condensed timeline, Loa is sidelined in this issue as we focus on more central characters, and it’s a shame that we won’t get to see her develop more of her own part in Namor’s story.

While I don’t want to give away the “twist”, I have to say that it felt very derivative, a fact that Moore even calls out in the dialogue. Unfortunately, even Loa’s quip about the “futurepast” doesn’t do enough to deflect the overly familiar essence of the plotline, but Moore handles it reasonably well. With the writer making it clear he’s aware of the story’s secondhand nature, we can hope that he’ll wrap it all up in interesting fashion. Rodriguez and Arino’s artwork is nothing special, and pales in comparison to the series’s preceding artists, Ariel Olivetti and Phil Noto. Unfortunately this means that the “suitably epic” (to quote myself) final storyline doesn’t get artistic treatment to match, which brings the book to a close on another down note.

I wish I could say that this arc is leading to a fitting end for the short-lived title. Namor: The First Mutant never really found its footing, though, and this issue serves to illustrate the reason for its sub-par sales. It’s not bad, by any means, but it feels exactly like what it is: the rushed wrap-up to a cancelled TV show.

Story by Roy Thomas
Art by Mike Hawthorne

One of two Conan releases this Wednesday, Road of Kings follows an earlier tale of the Cimmerian as he escorts the princess Olivia along the titular road across Hyboria, back to her home in Ophir. Issue 5 picks up after Olivia’s abduction at the hands of the scoundrel Fharos, who’s looking to claim a reward for her return to her father, and Conan’s pursuit of the pair.

Given a chance to stand solely on its own merits, Road of Kings #5 could hold up as a middling entry in the Conan saga; a mildly entertaining diversion. Unfortunately for this book it released alongside the clearly superior King Conan: The Scarlet Citadel #6, and suffers in the comparison. Where Timothy Truman’s narration and dialogue easily flow around Hyboria’s inhabitants, Roy Thomas’s language sometimes feels stilted and artificial. It’s a small complaint, though, and one made more evident by the contrast.

This issue’s story is entirely setup for an inevitably bloody finale, which makes it feel a little plodding. A particular non-encounter with a typically fantastical beast was much more filler than adventure, and was indicative of the books overall pacing. Hawthorne’s art is passable if a bit boring, and feels like a standard Dark Horse “b-team” book. It’s not an overwhelmingly negative feeling, but I can’t really praise this issue in any meaningful way either.

If you’re a Conan completist and just want more Conan, pick this one up. If you have to choose between this week’s Conans, go with Truman’s more consistently solid work and leave this one by the wayside.

Story by Paul Tobin
Art by Clayton Henry & Sergio Cariello

Fresh off of Spidey saving her butt from the Hobgoblin, Anya recruits his help in tracking down her father’s killer via a series of clues about the mysterious Raven organization. The issue opens with the two battling a small army of brainwashed “American ninjas” in a Raven research lab, which is riddled with several of my niggling peeves about the issue.

The portrayal of the 16 year-old Anya is clumsy and incongruous. What’s supposed to come off as a young girls’ immaturity simply feels like irrationally erratic behavior, even for a teenager. Where Brian Michael Bendis succeeded in his representation of a teen’s reactions to difficult situations, Tobin unfortunately misses the mark; Spider-Girl feels like a caricature of a teenager based on an adult’s perception rather than a flesh-and-blood girl. Even Spider-Man feels flat here, his trademark wit replaced by innocuously dull dialogue.

Peppered into that caricature are heavy-handed pop-culture references that will undoubtedly be dated in the very near future. The nods to Twitter in the issue lacked consistency, and feel contrived as a result. One particular page of Anya and Spidey dealing with some Raven scientists would have been better served with traditional narration, and it felt Tobin used the Tweets to circumvent actually writing the scene.

The issue’s artistic duties are split between the clean lines of Clayton Henry and the inconsistent art of Sergio Cariello. The wide gulf between these two artists’ styles is immediately apparent, and has a detrimental effect on the book. The transition from Cariello’s old-fashioned and, I’m sorry to say, rather boring panels to Henry’s graceful and dynamic layouts is jarring, especially in the last two pages.

The most recent issue of Spider-Girl is disappointing at its best, inconsistent and frustratingly gimmicky at its worst. Issue #7 is a throw-away that could likely be skipped entirely without losing pace in the greater storyline.

Story by Peter Calloway
Art by Andres Guinaldo

Now that the haphazard and under-billed Judgment on Gotham crossover has run its course, Gotham City Sirens is free to return from its brief detour to focus on Harley’s attempt to break the Joker out of Arkham. After a few pages re-introducing Catwoman to this main storyline, the majority of the book focuses on the riot Harley has triggered inside the asylum. In issue #21, Harley was given an effective turn as the type of villain she was meant to be, harkening back to her origins as a psychologist and allowing her to use her considerable intelligence and knowledge against the staff and inmates of Arkham. The moment she’s back in the Joker’s presence, however, she reverts back to Joker’s-girlfriend-slash-sidekick status, blindly following along as he conducts the ensuing chaos.

Catwoman and Poison Ivy are again sidelined here, and without Harley displaying the more weighty side of her personality, this issue feels unfocused and shallow. Catwoman is barely involved in the issue, and Ivy’s part is almost ridiculously superfluous. I’m still confused about why Ivy and Harley are “friends”, despite the fact that both are portrayed as far too intelligent to put up with the other’s individual insanities. As usual, Catwoman just doesn’t seem to fit here, and her interactions with both Batmans come off confusing and inconsistent. The book is mildly entertaining, if nothing else, and is nearly (but only nearly) saved by Andres Guinaldo’s artwork. His renderings of Black Mask and Poison Ivy are especially striking, and he infuses considerable excitement into the book’s heaping dose of action.

In the end, this is just another Bat-book about inmates causing bedlam at Arkham. Too many characters, too little focus on the main three, and a chaotic storyline with few interesting implications cause this book to fall short.

Story by Kieron Gillen
Art by Salvador Espin

Seven issues in, and Generation Hope finally finds its voice. After a shaky start that unfortunately may have lost the book what following it could have garnered, allowing Hope and her team to find their purpose seems to have taken the book around a positive bend.

After returning to Utopia in the aftermath of Kenji’s destructive turn, and Hope willing the team into cohesion through sheer force of personality, they are immediately called to help deal with the pre-natal emergence of a very powerful telepath. With the entire population of a hospital under its control, the fetus fatale is able only to express the most base of emotions, and is powered by the fear of change – namely birth.

Kieron Gillen has finally settled into his characters and is able to play to his strengths here: his dialogue and interactions. The young team shares an interesting bond, and their personalities play off of one another to chuckle-inducing effect. We’re seeing glimpses of individual personalities which, for the most part, come across well without the need for excessive explanation. The only exception to the rule is Idie, who is still the most one-dimensional character in the book.

Espin has found a rhythm with his art as well, and is a nice compliment to Gillen’s characters. I was especially taken with his renderings of the baby-mutie, whose almost whimsical expression was simultaneously funny (on the surface) and frightening (when the situation’s implications set in). It seems that the creative team for the book is starting to gel much like Hope’s Lights. I hope that Gillen and Espin can keep this up as the book goes on. If left to its own devices, Generation Hope has the potential to become an interesting slice of Marvel’s X-verse.

Story by Jeff Parker
Art by Kev Walker, Jason Gorder, & Declan Shalvey

Leading into this issue, the Thunderbolts’ newly anointed leader Luke Cage returned from a recruiting mission to find that Warden Walker had begun the process of recruiting a Thunderbolts B-Team led by Songbird. Upon their return the main Bolts are immediately turned around for a supposedly straightforward snatch ‘n’ grab mission while, back at the Raft, Songbird and Mach V begin preparations for training their merry band of backups.

This issue makes an interesting and successful choice to alternate between two very different artists depending on the team being depicted. Declan Shalvey’s grungy, heavy line work is used to depict the ‘Bolts B-team, while Kev Walker’s clean detail brings the A-team to life, and the stylistic choice offers a fitting compliment to each team’s story.

There aren’t many surprises in this issue, in spite of some rather heavy setup in the previous story. While the primary group is occupied, the backup team – or the “Underbolts”, as they are referred to – is predictably called into a mission well before they’re ready. The situation immediately tests their restraint, even as they’re joined by most of the A-team directly from a hiccup in their own mission – a hiccup that results in Cage making a potentially detrimental decision.

I was pleased with the dynamic of the Underbolts moreso than the main team in this issue, and I thoroughly enjoyed their interactions. Little moments really make this book (like Shocker’s reaction to the B-team being called to arms), giving lesser characters a chance to get fleshed out and see more of the spotlight. Thunderbolts delivers some good action and intriguing characters, and it’ll be fun to see where the formation of the B-team takes the book in future issues.