Category: Editorial

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.

Story by Cullen Bunn
Art by ChrisCross and Marc Deering

The final issue of Cullen Bunn’s Sorcerer Kings arc brings us to the ultimate confrontation between the wizards who destroyed the world and the remnants of an embattled Justice League. Having been part of the original conflict, an aged Batman puts a plan in motion to stop the Sorcerer Kings from implementing their insurance policy: sending a lesser god back in time to win their initial battle with Batman and his cohorts.

This story has, at times, felt rather derivative of a number of other time-travel/alternate future stories, pulling elements Terminator, Timecop, Freejack, etc. The implementation of those elements, combined with unique looks at an alternate future-DCU and some interesting characterizations, have kept the story flowing well, and this issue is no different. We see the (inconsequential) demise of some beloved characters, and Bunn’s take on a magic-fueled, enchanted-sword-wielding Supes is a fun departure for the character.

Chriscross & Marc Deering’s art is very fitting for the book; a colorful and dynamic presentation. Chriscross’s facial expressions are priceless and well-matched to Bunn’s storytelling, even in moments that wouldn’t normally matter or from characters that the reader may not be paying attention to. The depictions of spells and magical abilities are interesting and varied, and lend a nice feel to this magic-dominated setting.

My earlier word really sums up the issue: fun. Unfortunately, “fun” also translates to “shallow”. In spite of some gritty deaths and powerful enemies, the deaths don’t carry any emotional weight and the action never delivers any real tension. In the end, everything wraps up a little too neatly, in a fairly forgettable way. As much as I love Cullen Bunn’s work on The Sixth Gun, this arc and this issue felt disposable, and not nearly as nuanced as some of his other work.

In the end, though, it was fun. And maybe that’s enough.

Story by Marjorie Liu
Art by Sana Takeda

Picking up soon after the events of the X-23/Daken crossover, issue 10 follows Laura and Gambit as they travel to Paris with clues about X-23’s blood-soaked past. The summary page for the issue expects the reader to enter the story with the conceit that X is looking for more clues, or answers to clarify the clues she received at the end of the last story arc.

The issue, however, follows a different path: One that’s more about Laura’s deteriorating mental state and her descent into crippling angst than following her on her quest for answers. We’re given many opportunities to pause on Laura’s grief stricken face as she agonizes over her situation. At the very start of the issue, one such moment shows her cutting her own wrists in a restaurant bathroom, an irrational act which she knows will have no real effect, only deepening her disquiet.

Previous characterizations of X-23 have shown her to be deeply troubled, buried in her daily struggle to reconcile her new life with that of her old self, but never has the portrayal felt as ham-handed as it does here. Although she has much more trauma to cope with than any normal teen girl would, her character in previous issues has felt, with a few exceptions, much more grounded and determined. She was handed a gift-wrapped purpose by Daken in Madripoor, and yet she chooses to spend the following weeks wallowing in clichéd depictions of self-loathing.

I was disappointed with the turn in this book, and especially with the final scene. There is little character growth here for Laura or Remy, and the whole issue is feels a bit banal. A character taking a path I don’t like can be interesting, but this lacks any real depth or development.

Story by Michael Lent and Brian McCarthy
Art by Hyunsang Michael Cho

Set in 1864 at the titular mining camp, Brimstone kicks off when a ruthless mine-owner kills a native holy-man with his first blast of dynamite, a blast that the holy-man was attempting to prevent. The requisite creepy warning is given, and the dying native creaks out some sort of incantation with his dying breath. Skip ahead a month and the settlement is set upon by shades, flying demons that kill everyone in town. We are transported to the mining headquarters where, after receiving a final telegraph from the doomed outpost, the head of the mining company recruits a ragtag band of ne’er-do-wells to find out what’s happened to his mine.

This first issue is mostly character introductions, a point that can be forgiven since it’s the start of the series. The problem lies in that those introductions are rather boring, and the book stumbles in its attempt to make the merry band of misfits interesting. Everything about them – from design to dialogue – lumps them all into shallow stereotypes with not even the hint of depth to come. The initial encounter consists of two of the characters flinging random racial epithets at one another while everyone postures ineffectually.

It doesn’t help that the artwork is wholly sub-par. Running the scale from simply murky to downright amateurish, the book just looks bad. Every page is loaded with unnecessarily strange angles between panels that are indistinguishably muddy. The few action sequences in the book are hard to follow, and do not bode well for a book that’s setting itself up for even more.

When it comes to Weird West comics, it’s difficult not to draw comparisons to the genre’s current frontrunner, The Sixth Gun. Where The Sixth Gun succeeds with eloquent dialogue and expressive artwork, Brimstone falls far short of both marks.

Story by J.G. Jones
Art by Qing Ping Mui

When you pick up a Doc Savage book, there’s no illusion about what you’re going to get. Pulpy and campy, Doc Savage always harkens back to its origins in the 30’s and 40’s, and little has been done to modernize the character or storylines save for technological references. The covers purposely evoke imagery from old serials, and vernacular used helps that right along (the phrase “big ape” appears repeatedly, and one character even spouts the word “hoosegow”).

This issue picks up as Savage and crew take on hungry, mind-controlled crocodiles while following the trail of an archaeologist nicknamed “Littlejohn”, who has been pressed into service to find a talisman called the Apis Bull. Littlejohn is kidnapped once again, Savage is set upon by thugs… again, and the story moves along at a brisk pace. There’s nothing exceptional here, but there’s nothing really wrong, either. The book is a fun, corny ride with a superficial but interesting-enough artifact driven plotline.

What really hurts the book is the artwork. Practically everyone Mui draws looks like a roid-raging Mickey Rourke, and the failures of proportion and perspective are sometimes jarring and far too frequent to ignore. Aside from hair and outfits the characters are indistinguishable, even from small side characters and the villains. I found myself wishing that J.G. Jones – whose lush cover artwork drew me into the book in the first place – were illustrating his own words.

As a pulp hero, Doc himself falls squarely between Indiana Jones and Dirk Pitt, fighting off genetically altered crocodiles as easily as mobs of random thugs, all while finding time to perform scientific analysis to help him on his quest. The story falls a little flat, though, and is irreparably marred by its imagery. If you are a Doc Savage fan you might see past the artwork, but I wasn’t able to.

Story and art by Jim Starlin

I’m not sure what to make of Breed III. The first two Breed story arcs were published in the mid-‘90’s under Malibu’s Bravura line. When Malibu went under, Starlin had a tough time finding anyone to pick up his story of a half-breed demonslayer, and maybe that was for the best.

I have no way of sugar-coating this, so I’m just going to say it: Breed III #1 is one of the worst comics I’ve ever read. It starts with a random battle interspersed with god-awful narration from our beastly hero, and is followed by an entire issue of Ray Stoner (yep, Ray Stoner) recounting his entire life story. To cap it all off the issue ends before he’s finished his tale, fortelling a second issue of further flashbacks.

From open to close, Breed III fails at every turn. Immature dialogue, ridiculous half-human-furries-gone-wrong as antagonists, a nonexistent plotline, and absurdities abound. The artwork and colors are outstandingly mediocre, looking astonishingly like… well, a mid-‘90’s Malibu book. Even the lettering causes more problems than it solves. On one jumbled two-page spread in particular, Ray recounts his birth and early childhood in such a haphazard layout that it’s almost impossible to figure out what to read next. The candle in the cupcake is a panel where the word “pastor” is misspelled (as “pasture”). Not once, but twice.

I wish I could say that this is a successful parody of the comics from which it was borne, but Breed III fails even when attempting to view it through that filter. If I can find anything positive to say about the book, my only thought is that at least it’s not offensive. Avoid this one at all costs.