The Lonely Planeteer's Guide

Welcome to another round of the Comics Cube Roundtable, where we at the Cube weigh in on certain topics. Click here for the full list.

This week was Matt's idea, so he'll kick it off.

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Matt

A good comic will create a lush, vibrant world for it's characters to dwell in. Generally, comics use our world as a template and build on it, adding nations, cities, obscene levels of population density in the Midwest/coasts to develop the world and its characters. Riffing (i.e. shamelessly ripping off) this article from the AV Club, I thought to myself, the Cube Cohort should weigh in on the must sees and must misses of comic worlds. Challenge: Pick no more than 3 and no fewer than 1 locale you would like to visit or wouldn't touch visit for your weight in vibranium. The location does not have to be on Earth nor do you need to be inspired by the 90's X-Men cartoon (but it won't hurt).

Can't Miss:

1. Rip Hunter's Time Lab

Quite frankly, it's the most likely place I'll my good, old pal Booster Gold these days. Also, it does have a timesphere and a super-confusing chalkboard that eventually makes sense. Plus, it's somewhere in an undisclosed location (Arizona), so a dry heat at this time of year would be most welcome.

2. The Savage Land

I love dinosaurs. Ergo, if I want to see some, I need to get myself to Antarctica. I really need no other reason, but hanging out with Ka-Zar and Zabu could be fun, or filled with horrible, horrible danger.

3. Mogo

The only acceptable form of socializing is to go to Mogo. Any environment you choose to enjoy, any weather you choose to enjoy. Assuming you aren't an interstellar criminal or piss Mogo off, it is a nature lover's dream.

This place is like EPCOT:

1. Genosha

Come for the lush tropical environment. Stay for the slavery, because you are now a slave. Even if it has changed hands a few times, tropical climate plus enslavement/second-class citizenship (at best) is a pass for me. I think there was a PSA about this in the 90s...

2. The Dreaming

Messed up and confusing doesn't really seem to cut it. Unless you are Dream, a Crow or Cain & Abel, the Dreaming is probably more trouble than it's worth. Granted, many visit every night, but I wouldn't recommend staying too long. As a rule, I don't remember my dreams, perhaps for the better.

3. Coast City

The home city of an intergalactic space cop, which has been leveled by a cybernetic Superman and intergalactic warlord with millions killed? I think I will pass. The visit just has horrible disaster written all over it. Forget about living there, I don't think homeowner's insurance covers Red Lantern bile.

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Duy

Really Got to Get to These:

1. Opal City

Opal's my favorite fictional city, partly because of the art deco architecture that would just keep me snapping touristy photos all day long, and partly because of what probably kept Starman Jack Knight there for so long: it looks like it's full of junk. After a couple of days of looking at all the touristy sites, including where Captain Marvel beat up Jack or where Sherlock Holmes, uh, I mean Hamilton Drew lives, I'd just end up going to all the bazaars, eating all the good food, and looking for all the good bargains.

2. Neopolis

You probably need superpowers to live in Neopolis, but that doesn't mean you can't visit! A city where everyone has superpowers but vigilantism is illegal, and the only hope for law and order lies in the Top 10 Precinct, so everyone else has to get a job that fits their particular ability? Well, that sounds like my idea of a good time. Who wouldn't want to get their pizza delivered by a superspeedster or want to just look up in the sky and see Peter Pan and Willy Wonka's elevator and Falcor from the Never-Ending Story go right above you? And really, who wouldn't want to go to Precinct 10 and just hang out with Robyn Slinger? Because I would, and we'd be best friends.

3. Asgard

My last spot was either this or Riverdale, and I settled on Asgard because it kind of is like Riverdale on acid, where everyone knows each other and basically just has to deal with each other, even if they can't stand each other. There's mead and there's lots and lots of food to eat, and there's Sif and the Enchantress and there's storytime with Volstagg and everything. Okay, sure, you'd have to deal with Balder being insufferable, but isn't it worth it, to go to war with Thor and the gang? It's not like you can't come back if you die anyway.


I'd Rather Be on Apokolips:

1. Marvel New York

Marvel New York, growing up, was the place to visit for me, the reason I wanted to go to school near New York City, and the reason I went to New York City as often as I could when I lived back East. So you think, take my favorite city in real life and you make it so I might see Spider-Man or Captain America or Thor if I so much as turned around? Yeah, I'd go visit for a weekend. But then think about it. You'd probably get captured by the Green Goblin for no reason, targeted for death by Bullseye, have your life ruined by the Kingpin, and severely injured by Dr. Doom, all because they saw you smiling at the Invisible Woman. So no, thanks, I'll hang out in real New York and pretend that superheroes are swinging around instead.

2. Xandar

Firelord is from here. There's nothing that can possibly make up for that.

3. Gotham City

Really, aside from 1950s Gotham City with the giant props and where the Joker's worst crime is trying to steal candy, why would anyone want to visit Gotham City, a place where you will most likely either end up dead or rescued by a lunatic with daddy issues in a batsuit? There's nothing in Gotham that looks like it's worth visiting, unless you're a businessman and you need to do business with Bruce Wayne, a psychiatrist and you want to make your name with the inmates at Arkham, or a girl who really, really wants to meet Dick Grayson.

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Travis

The first thing this put me in mind of, is Miyuki-chan in Wonderland, since that's all about "How cool would it be to live in..." and then the scary realities of living in Barbarella, Alice in Wonderland, a chess videogame, or CLAMP's X/1999. Some universes, some cities are more fun to watch or read about vicariously than to actually have to live, breathe, and work in.

I Wanna Go:

1. Tomobiki

The small city of Tomobiki has as much fantastic madness going on as Marvel's Manhattan, but you're way less likely to be killed by it, and 86% of the madness is made up of really cute aliens. (I'm trying not to make this a "Where them girls at?" but at the same time, all I have in my head is Jay and Silent Bob's summation of Shermer, Illinois: "All the honeys are top shelf, but all the guys are whiny pussies. Except Judd Nelson." Actually, everyone's pretty cute, though, women and men, alike, once you ignore the high school idiots. Aliens! Monsters! Dream-eating tapirs! Baseball! The beach! Tomibiki has everything you need in a vacation.

2. Ys

The DCU Ys is simply the unacknowledged side of the world we live in, where things always renew, always refresh. Sure, that means it's ruled by a crazy red demon-thing, but that means he's always losing/always has lost, too. So, you can just chill out and eat and sleep and eat and sleep and enjoy the sun and eat some more, and chill, until you want to slip back to this side of the world, and you're more or less reset to how you were. No getting fat, no getting behind track, no getting exhausted.

3. Four Freedoms Plaza

It's kinda risky, sure, but how awesome would it be to even take a tour of the FF's headquarters? There's a robot receptionist! There's labs, and a lobby, and labs, and the Thing is is probably hanging around, and science! I'd buy a hat at the gift shop and everything.

The Hell Nos:

1. Gotham City

Because you'd die. Painfully. And you wouldn't see Batman. And if you did see Batman it'd be because he was trying to stop someone from shoving a sock puppet in your face while melting your genitals off with acid and laughing the whole time. Because Gotham sucks,

2. Madripoor

Like Gotham, except more corrupt and no Batman. Plus, it's more humid, has less air conditioning, the architecture is less impressive, and people are bastards.

3. Mega-City One

Fascism and brutal executions in a world where salt and cigarettes are illegal can be hilarious and exciting to read about. Living in any Mega-City would suck even if there weren't Judges. But there are Judges and you would be found guilty of stuff. Lots of stuff. And then you'd be sentenced. Probably by that Judge who's actually a politician's fish.

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Ben

Places to go:

1. Apokolips

This might seem like the last place you want to be, but for me, I think you just have to get in on the ground floor of your eventual subjugation. Darkseid is eventually going to take over the world, you might as well work your way into some form of comfortable hellish existence from the beginning, instead of dying in the eventual climatic battle for the fate of the universe, or being forced into some kind of body bank scenario. If you’re enterprising enough, maybe you can even work yourself up to a Granny Goodness level of position in the government. You know, feed off the misery of others. Worst case you can practice your death defying escape skills with Mister Miracle.

2. Knowhere

If you can’t have a good time inside the hollowed out head of a dead Celestial, hanging out with a galaxy of scoundrels and telepathic Russian dogs, talking trigger-happy raccoons, and one monarch of Planet X, than you really need to reevaluate your ability to relax.

3. Barrelhaven

The idyllic little town located in the Valley of Jeff Smith’s Bone would be a great place to have a nice quality vacation. You can go get yourself a beer at Lucius Down’s tavern, or take the family to watch Gran’ma Ben in the cow race. If the Bone’s are around, you can get into some mischief with Phoney Bone, or even find yourself in the middle of a grand adventure with Thorn. The worst thing you have to beware of is some fairly idiotic rat creatures. Altogether not a bad little place to get away to.

Honorable Mention: Sin City. Any place where the strippers look like Jessica Alba is a place I want to be.

Places to avoid:

1. Oa

The place just sounds like a nightmare of red tape and unexplained decrees from the Guardians on high that may or may not end up in you getting slaughtered. There’s also the cornucopia of color lantern corps that want to do nothing but destroy the place. While there may be some sexy aliens running around, like Katma Tui or Soranik Natu, you also have to beware of the jailbait like Arisia that will get you in all kinds of trouble. Nevermind that your only Earthling companions are superdouche Hal Jordan, barrel of laughs (not) John Stewart, or Kyle Rayner (who might give John a run for his money in the depressing downer category). Your best option for a good time is Guy Gardner, and that guy’s a bit of a dick.

2. Metropolis

This place, along with Marvel’s New York, just seems to be much more trouble than it’s worth. Think of the property damage alone. There you are, living your life like a law-abiding citizen that always pays his bills and is just scraping by to survive in the big city, and then one day Doomsday uses your car as a projectile against Superman. Is your insurance going to cover that? How are you going to get around on that meager salary you’re pulling in? Just imagine the hassle you’re going to have to go through, the long lines filing your insurance claim, because that complete failure Gangbuster threw some pickpocket through your apartment window. Superman may be the Earth’s most powerful hero, but that just means the devastation is that much greater any time he gets in to a rumble. A lot of us saw Man of Steel (not me, but I heard enough). Not to mention Toyman trying to kidnap your kids, or Luthor playing sexual mindgames with your wife. Plus, I think if I had to see Superman flying around every day I’d have to kill myself.

3. Professor Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters

Putting aside that the school has been destroyed and rebuilt more times than my self-esteem after sexual encounters, just think of the mutants you’re going to have to deal with. Sure, there are the occasional picnics or softball games, when you’re not under attack by religious zealots, robot killing machines, or one of the oh so many future iterations of X teams, but do you really want to have to make small talk with Longshot in the kitchen every morning? There’s no way that guy isn’t terribly annoying. Colossus is wandering around being either dead or useless. Cyclops is just a massive bummer to be around, always wallowing about how he can’t take his glasses off. Meanwhile, he’s married to one of the hottest redheads in the Marvel universe, and when she dies, he follows that up with the hottest blonde in the Marvel universe (or a clone of that redhead, or Colleen Wing, all while never having to get a real job, that guy's life is awesome). Nightcrawler and Wolverine would probably be great to have a drink with, until Logan flashes back to some terrifying probe incident in his past and accidentally pops his claws through your forehead. Humans don’t hate and fear them because they’re mutants, it’s because they’re a drag to be around. No thanks.

The Elegant Simplicity of Continuity Corrections in a Single Panel

The Elegant Simplicity of Continuity Corrections in a Single Panel

Back Issue Ben

Ben Smith

As I’ve said before, superhero comic book continuity can be a wonderful thing, or it can be a terrible burden. Fans like to believe or try to make every story count, no matter how impossible a task that may be. This was even turned into a fun game by Stan Lee back in the ‘60s courtesy of his “no-prize” reward system for readers suggesting fixes for his own continuity mistakes.

Since most comic book writers were fans themselves growing up, the continuity corrections only got more elaborate, and the explanations for every single aspect of superheroes more detailed. To the point where we have Geoff Johns making a career out of it, following the footsteps of the legendary John Byrne, who by his own admission became a “fix-it” man for continuity.

While I enjoy Green Lantern: Rebirth as much as the next guy (or more, depending) for every one of those there are a dozen continuity porn comics that exist solely to explain confusing past stories, instead of telling a satisfying story themselves.

In homage to a simpler time, a time when regrettable past stories could be explained away with one word balloon of dialogue, I’m going to share a couple of my favorite, and most succinct continuity corrections of all time.

Up first, is the ever mighty God of Thunder himself, Thor. I happen to believe Thor is one of the most consistent characters in the history of superhero comics. Except for the occasional Thunderstrike or Eric Masterson side step, he for the most part has remained the same simple (and I don’t mean that as a detriment) character from the beginning. His cast is relatively the same, and relatively unchanged in personality or depiction. He’s just a strong character. But again, that doesn’t mean there haven’t been missteps.

Having just recently read Thor #282–301, I can safely say this is probably the most ill-conceived Thor story I have read yet. It was primarily written by Roy Thomas, with Ralph Macchio and Mark Gruenwald taking over for the last chapters, which should give you an idea of the level of continuity explaining that was going on in this story with those gentlemen involved.

I’m not even going to try to explain all the madness that happened in this stretch of stories. Suffice it to say, that it involved revealing that the modern Marvel version of Odin was formed by combining the bodies of four Asgardians that survived Ragnarok from a previous version of Asgard.

Thor learns of this information from Odin’s severed eye, which had been traveling the cosmos causing all kinds of trouble.

It also told the tale of Thor’s other life as a mortal named Siegfried, which was a long, convoluted, and boring tale that ultimately revealed how the Odinsword and Destroyer armor were created, and for what purposes.

Not only do I find these stories to be frankly bad ideas overall, they were depicted in the most tedious and “info-dump” type of ways possible. Instead of reading a story, I felt like I was being told a story, if that makes any kind of sense.

Thankfully, the wonderous Walt Simonson came to our rescue, dismissing the whole affair courtesy of a conversation with Thor’s probable grandfather Bor.

The next continuity correction involves that most loveable of lugs, the Punisher. In Spectacular Spider-Man #81–83 by Bill Mantlo and Al Milgrom, Frank Castle is depicted as completely off his rocker. Mowing down jaywalkers and litterbugs like they were mob bosses and drug dealers. The story ends with the Punisher being convicted and sentenced to a mental institution.

Well, in the first issue of the Punisher’s inaugural mini-series, Steven Grant and Mike Zeck take care of that regrettable bit of storytelling with one single panel conversation between a prison warden and his employee.

Nowadays that would have been a six-issue mini about Frank Castle getting revenge on the people responsible for drugging him.

I don’t know about you, but I prefer the one panel.

That’s if for this time folks. Next time out, I’ll find something else to be nostalgic about.

Captain America: War and Remembrance

Captain America: The Winter Soldier is out next month, so for the entirety of March, all of my articles will be about the Star-Spangled Man with a Plan! Today, we talk about...

Roger Stern and John Byrne's War and Remembrance

One Brief Shining Moment

by Duy

I don't really like saying absolute statements like "This is what superhero comics should be like," since that feels like imposing my tastes in too extreme a manner to be taken seriously, but there are times I'll make an exception or at least choose my words carefully while essentially saying the same thing. Captain America: War and Remembrance, written by Roger Stern and drawn by John Byrne, which ran in Captain America #247–255 (1980–1981) is one of those exceptions.

This run, short as it was, is one of those rare perfect combinations for me. I can't say enough good things about Roger Stern. For my money, he's one of the two greatest pure superhero writers ever, and by "pure superhero writer," I mean someone who tells his stories in a straightforward, conventional manner and reinforces what's great about a particular character instead of someone who overturns conventions and takes those characters down before rebuilding them (the comics buzzword is "deconstruction," but I hate that since it's actually an inappropriate term). In that sense, Roger Stern for my money has the highest batting average.

Meanwhile, on the list of comic book artists that I love so much, there are very few I'd put above early 80s John Byrne, and I can count them on one hand. This probably shouldn't count as a surprise since George Perez is my favorite artist of all time, but you know what? I actually would take early 80s John Byrne over George Perez of the same era. I think he was the superior artist then, and I think Byrne in that time was the perfect superhero artist.

And of course, Captain America is one of my favorite characters ever, one of my three or four favorite Marvel superheroes, and my absolute favorite superhero who doesn't have any superhuman powers. Sure, he got his powers from a Super Soldier Serum, but the dude was 4F, physically frail, and from poverty, and he wanted to do the right thing because it was the right thing to do. I'm sure we'll forgive him for not being a perfect genetic specimen and rich enough to train his body to the peak of human conditioning and is driven by obsession. Steve Rogers is the perfect hero because he was a hero before he ever had any physical right to be.

So we're talking my favorite pure superhero writer, one of my absolute favorite superhero artists at the peak of his powers, and my favorite nonpowered superhero ever. But as is often the case in comics (or in life, really), a combination of great parts is nothing if you can't bring it together. Fortunately for us all, Stern and Byrne brought it together on War and Remembrance. And like I said, I don't want to say things like "This is what all superhero comics should be like," so I'll phrase it a little differently and say this instead:

If I could give an aspiring superhero creative team a comic to study and emulate, it would be War and Remembrance.

Let's look at some of the things this book can teach aspiring creators.

Tell What You Must, Show What You Can

The first scene of War and Remembrance has Captain America running across the Brooklyn Bridge, jumping on top of a bus, hitching a ride to Midtown New York, jumping off in the middle of the road to an awning then to a flagpole then to a rooftop, and running for a while until he finally gets to SHIELD headquarters.

All throughout, Cap's thought bubbles fill us in on what's going on in his mind and what the purpose of his litte trip is.

The interdependency of the words and pictures, meaning the fact that they add something different to the story, makes the storytelling incredibly efficient. Stern's advancing the plot by telling you what you need to know, and Byrne's showing you just how capable Cap is in terms of physical skills and athleticism.

Now for sure, Stern still does do some unnecessary explaining — it's an 80s comic, after all, and it should still be read in that context. The thing, really, to remember about 80s comics is that accessible back issues were still a novelty, so exposition was a necessity. But Stern was very good at making it unobtrusive for its time, and it still does, to a large extent, hold up pretty well now. The important thing is that comics are a visual medium and the artist should shine, and Stern wrote sequences in such a way to make sure that Byrne did, in fact, shine.

Continuity Should Be a Tool

So Cap is running to SHIELD headquarters in that first sequence because he's got some questions about his past. This is because, when Roger Stern was editor of the book in previous years, he was stuck with a story that contradicted a lot of Cap's established history, and he wanted to clear that up. While there could easily have been a way to make it the focus of a multi-part story, Stern resolves the issue in one page. The entire thing is just a way to get Captain America to SHIELD where, because Nick Fury is missing, we see Steve Rogers and Dum Dum Dugan's friendship re-established, and then Baron Strucker attacks, kicking off the main story and the direction for the first three issues of the run.

The continuity problem was resolved in one page. Cap needed to get to SHIELD and it was as good an excuse as any. Stern killed two birds with one stone.


So to recap: for the first half of the first issue, we've seen Cap's physical capabilities, learned what he's after, resolved a continuity problem, established he's friends with multiple SHIELD agents, and kicked off the direction for a few issues. That's pretty economical.

Villains Should Be Threatening

Among the many villains Captain America fights in this collection are Baron Blood, an immortal vampire; Dragon Man, who's gone toe to toe with the mighty Hercules; and Mr. Hyde, who regularly fought Thor.

 Cap was constantly overmatched in this run, and it gave off a real sense of danger as well as a sense of curiosity because you wanted to know how he was going to win. Of course, there was little doubt that he was going to win, because he's Captain America. Which leads us to our next point...

The Hero Should Be Awesome

Captain America is pretty awesome. We all know it. The guy's the perfect physical specimen, the best and most capable nonpowered superhero in existence. But the man has his limits. And like every great hero, he excels at going past those limits. Here he is bending a massive chain just enough to break free.

The one who's chained him to that boat is Mr. Hyde, who was introduced in comics as an enemy for Thor, and who has teamed up with my favorite Captain America villain, Batroc the Leaper! (I unabashedly love Batroc. Here's why.) Now Batroc's a villain, but he's not incredibly stupid, so he knows that Hyde would turn on him eventually, so he's actually the reason Cap is fighting Hyde at all.

Yep, of all the people Batroc could have called in to help fight Hyde, he chose Captain America. Now that's awesome.

It seems there's a lot of traction today in having heroes lose or fail, and maybe there's something to that. But I always think that win or lose, heroes should be awesome. We should be able to look up to them. More, we should be able to want to be like them.

As an aside, I really love Captain America's shield. The idea of a discuslike weapon that is both offensive and defensive and cannot be broken lends an air of myth and fantasy to someone who is otherwise a relatively (to the rest of his peers) grounded character. It adds the touch of "legend" to Marvel's living legend.

Vary the Tone as the Story Calls for It

Stern and Byrne didn't hesitate to go with changing the tone of each scene to suit whatever mood they were going for. It seems to me that these days a lot of superhero comics tend to go with a specific tone for each series, but Stern and Byrne proved that you can vacillate between lighthearted moments, tense moments, and even dark and disturbing moments. For example, here's Steve Rogers being introduced to the new tenant in his apartment, Bernadette Rosenthal.

A fun moment, right? Bright colors and all smiles and everything. Some issues later, he's fighting the vampire Baron Blood, and he tricks Blood into attacking him by pretending to sleep. Suddenly—

Cap tricks a vampire into coming really close to him. I love Cap.

I love that scene. Byrne really made you feel the collision with the shield.

When it is clear that Cap wasn't going to be able to beat Blood before the sun goes down (which would give Blood more strength),the color scheme shifts into a darker palette, and Cap does what any soldier would do — not that he has to like it.

That's the new Union Jack (essentially, he's the Cap of England) looking at the decapitation happening, by the way, and showing his reaction while he's engulfed by the shadow of it is probably more effective than actually showing the decapitation.

But the best issue to demonstrate these tonal shifts is probably the one where a third political party endorses Cap for president, starting a media blitz that has the nation believing that he would, in fact, run. Check out this panel where the Beast tells him about it. Byrne manages to convey frustration, disbelief, and amusement all in one go.

Then, here's Cap reacting to the reactions of Iron Man, the Wasp, and the Vision.

And then by the end, he just gets really serious, turning it down because he knows that politicians, even those he respects, would have to make compromises that he, as Captain America, wouldn't and shouldn't make.

In the second issue, actually, Cap makes a mental note that Nick Fury's job must in fact be a dirty one, and that he feels bad for him and respects him at the same time. There's an underlying complexity to the run, with Cap knowing that the dream and the reality are, at the moment, incongruous, but that he'd never stop doing his part in it as the symbol of the dream and that he's grateful for those who need to get their hands dirtier and make compromises so the reality can come closer to the dream. It's nothing the run dwells on for too long, but it's there, and you know it's there because Roger Stern put enough words in Captain America's thoughts and speech to remind you, and because John Byrne conveyed it as well as anyone could, without ever once forgetting that this was a superhero book and that bad guys needed to be punched.

So I don't usually say things like "This is what most comics should be like," but again, I'll say this: If I could give an aspiring superhero creative team a comic to study and emulate, it would be War and Remembrance.

Divine Arrangements

Divine Arrangements

Pop Medicine

Travis Hedge Coke

“The layouts are what matter!!”
~ Duy Tano, paraphrasing himself in an email to me.

“I can’t even doodle a dude leaning against a building without losing track of it, and what if he was a chicken with a pompadour?”
~ me, in email to Duy, a few days later.


1) The Swords of Heaven, The Flowers of Hell

I could have made this column about six different Howard Chaykin comics, the man has such an eye for layout and the tactical brain to turn arrangements of panels, figures, color into targeted devices.

This collaboration between Michael Moorcock and Chaykin bisects its pages or spreads in such an unassuming fashion that, similar to Ballade (dealt with below), it feels classical, closer to 19th Century spot illustrations with their nebulous borders, image always consigned away from the text, but somehow never with a definitive edge. Even on multi-panel pages, the division into two dominant, equally sized aspects maintains a subtle master-pacing despite any single page pace, stringing the whole together much as a pattern is knit together in and out, in, out, regardless of what color or specific thread is in play. There is a third, quieter or semi-detached element in this arrangement, though, a counter note to the dominating division of the page. There are no gaps, no abruptness, only a romantic articulation and the surety of one, two count and the third rising yet softer three making not a work camp drive of the comic, but a waltz.

2) Why?

The black frame of the first panel on page one is open at the top left corner, encouraging the reader’s eye to enter in. The close-together panels bring us in aerially to church steps, a woman (Donna Troy) delivering a hot meal to a sparechanger en route to the doors of the church. The second page starts with Donna, mid-panel, entering the church, then a reverse shot to show the enormity of the place, before settling into the small, close-together panels of her sitting and finally speaking. The third page is a full-page image of organized disarray, a superhero caught in the wake as a shell breaks a building behind him into shrapnel. The shelling and its fallout are dealt with in succeeding pages, but the big moment is page three. It is abrupt, no time passing in it the way other pages pace minutes. If this was a movie, that credits page is a clear freeze frame, and it is to Phil Jimenez’s credit that he accomplishes this sensibility in entirely static pages in Why?, pulling the reader into a small, slender, time sense and then arresting it breathtakingly.


3) Cyberella

The opening issue of Howard Chaykin and Don Cameron’s Cyberella establishes a pattern so strong, it feels implicit in the few pages that do not follow suit. Almost every page has an inset panel in the upper left, distinct from background, either portrait or headshot. A full human figure, often lightly overlaps the inset and lower panels to the right. The opening page inverts this, with an inset at the right top, of a naked man crouched before a television set, but the next eight pages follow the pattern, distinctly, also each containing two stacked widescreen panels below to complete the page. Every other page follows this pattern, with the full figure on the upper right’s legs or lower body usually driving line of sight down into a sharply plummeting Z formation.

4) Dracula vs Zorro

Thomas Yeates and Don McGregor are both big, operatic talents and they launch into this comic full bore and in big style, but every page, each panel border, each gesture is deliberate and controlled.

The first two pages of issue one are framed similarly, two panels, one for setting, one of the big gun, Zorro, then Dracula, but the pages following alternate between being securely bordered rectangular panels that Zorro can be framed within or cut through, while Dracula’s pages are full of angles or images collaged against one another, panels framed by maggots or his cape. One half of the story is a man dashing between panels and around the page, the other, a monster dominating his pages, haunting the corners and making even the straightest lines seem to bend with his presence. When they finally are on the same pages, though still separate physically, Dracula’s world is awash in blue and black, and Zorro’s presence is yellow and white, bright even at night. The closing pages bring them together in a synthesis, everything in white and blue tones, illuminated darkness, night skies pure white so that Dracula can hunch as a shadow below and Zorro hurtle through the air towards him, a dark streak of energy piercing down towards the vampire.

5) Ballade

This short Moebius should never be read panel by panel, but taken in an entire page at a time. The simple rhythm of the imagery, the basic coding of the coloring makes the comic feel classical, fable, exciting but safe and inevitable. Some of the panels aren’t even panels, they’re cutaways, round apertures to another scene, or diegetic elements, such as stone or flame that break up an otherwise unified space. Each page is blocked in three rough sections, one of which is nearly always scenery or empty of event. In the upper part of each page is a significant figure, somewhat detached or distanced from the rest of the page’s ongoings. And, every page is dominated by orange and blue, often creating the sense of two separate worlds or states, even if those are so simple as hot and cold.

6) Fax From Sarajevo

There is remarkable confidence in Joe Kubert’s last decades of work, both in his own penwork and his confidence in his reader. Chapter Five, “The Run to Sarajevo”, opens with a rough mock of a sketch someone else made, giving the not-to-scale layout of a warzone, marked with notes of “attack came from here” and “barricade of trucks” or “Holiday Inn.” When you turn the pages, though it is two pages later, you cannot help but lock eyes with the brilliant red and yellow of a raging fire. Maybe, then, you go all the way left, to the beginning of the page your eyes have so reflexively skipped, and see a much more realistic rendering of what the map showed: bombed out buildings, abandoned cars, smoke. Pushed further into the page, as that damaged cityscape takes up the entire left side, Ervin, Edina, and children sit huddled in the bathroom, entirely tinted, as is everything, in greens and browns.

Ervin with show red in the heat of flames when he journeys outside, and as we see him try to work a car, the panels pull in, half his face, a hand pushing in the key, so that the explosion that flares across the very bottom of that page is a jutting surprise, and though these are static images, it is only after a moment that it settles into scope; this is not Ervin’s car, he is only watching from a short distance.

Death and Resurrection: Why Most Comic Book Fans Are Wrong

Death and Resurrection: Why Most Comic Book Fans Are Wrong

Back Issue Ben

Ben Smith

There seems to be this weird complaint among a subsection of comic book fandom that changes in superhero comics are never permanent. This is especially true when it comes to death. Whether the death of a character is permanent or not, I believe the most important thing is if it is an entertaining story or not.

I can somewhat understand the viewpoint of superhero deaths that are done as a “stunt,” but even then I don’t really agree with it. “They’re just trying to get us to buy this comic.” Well yeah, isn’t that kind of the whole point? If anything, I’ll grant them the assumption that some comic book deaths are thrown into the story to give it an extra sense of importance, and aren’t narratively driven at all (most likely to occur in the less enjoyable of event crossovers, cough cough Fear Itself).

Even Fear Itself, as cheap as Bucky Cap’s “death” initially seemed to be, ended up serving a bigger purpose by forcing Steve back into the spotlight, and returning Bucky to the much better role of Winter Soldier. Most of the more significant superhero deaths that have occurred over the past decade I feel like were story-driven deaths that marketing took advantage of, and not some devious plot by the publishers to force you to buy comics against your will.

Exploring what a character’s death means to their world, is one of the distinct advantages of the genre. No other entertainment medium is really able to take advantage of that type of story the way that comic books can, and do. For that reason, I’m going to share some of my favorite deaths in comics.

Of course, SPOILERS from this point on. You’ve been adequately warned.

First up, is a death that I covered recently when talking about my love of the character of Damian Wayne. Damian went out in the most comic book of ways, fighting his own hyper-aged clone.

The subsequent grief of the bat-family, especially Batman himself, is what really sells this one for me. That’s what sells a great death story for me, if it can tap into the indescribable grief that comes from losing a loved one.

Next up, is the lovely Karen Page, struck down by the irredeemable Bullseye.

As she dies in Daredevil’s arms, she chokes out a few last words (a common trope) which never fails to connect with me when done right. (I think my last words in a scenario like that would be “You are terrible at this, Daredevil.")

Of course the death of Steve Rogers is on the list. His last words really highlight the nobility of the character, as he worries about the safety of the bystanders to his last breath.

The final fate of Kid Loki is too painful to even discuss, you’ll just have to settle for this quick glimpse.

The death of Peter Parker in the Ultimate universe has perhaps the most fitting and touching final words of anything else on this list.

Following that, the death of Peter Parker in the regular Marvel universe, after getting mind-swapped into the body of Doctor Octopus, totally worked for me on a different level. His final pleas with Otto to do the right thing elevate it far above the “stunt” comic that many irrational online fans proclaim it to be.

Driving the knife in even further, Peter is seemingly erased for good from his own brain only a few months after. A truly heartbreaking scene.

No list would be complete without including the suicide of Jean Grey as the Phoenix, one of the most popular and beloved stories in Marvel history.

Probably the most painful death for me as a reader (that didn’t involve me being an adolescent) was the death of U-Go Girl in X-Force.

Equally sudden, shocking, and unexpected, it just kills me every single time.

My favorite example of the kinds of emotional stories that can be told from the death of a beloved character comes as part of the final stand of Johnny Storm, the Human Torch.

Without his “death,” we don’t get these heart-rending scenes with Susan Richards…

or this chilling scene between Reed Richards and Annihilus.

or the anger of Valeria…

or the anguish of The Thing.

These were (forgive the pun) fantastic scenes, and they aren’t possible without Johnny’s seeming death.

Nothing hits me harder than the selfless sacrifice play, and there aren’t many better than the climatic battle between Star-Lord, Nova, and Thanos.

Rocket Raccoon demanding to be sent back in is the perfect touch you need for this type of scene.

My next entry should come as no surprise to any longtime readers, the Barry Allen Flash.

It was the single most heroic and inspiring death in superhero comic history.

The impact of the death of Gwen Stacy cannot be overstated, and it remains my single favorite comic book of all-time.

Not to be outdone, the death of the Green Goblin in the following issue was just as compelling.

“Crucified, not on a cross of gold--but on a stake of humble tin.”

This last death is a favorite simply because it makes me smile every time I see it.

It never gets old.

Big grin on my face right now.

Deaths have provided some of the most emotional moments and storytelling that comic books can offer. It’s a great way to explore, or remind readers, what makes a character special. When done right, the reactions of the character’s family and friends are what really drive the emotion home. Bypassing that because of some cynical view of their lack of permanence seems like a bit of a waste.

U-Go Girl and Gwen Stacy probably aren’t coming back, and that stings. But the depressing solitude of Peter as he slowly gets erased is just as painful, and that will never change, even after he comes back. The overwhelming grief of the Fantastic Four isn’t any less beautifully done because Johnny Storm was eventually revived. The unfortunate return of Superman doesn’t make his sacrifice any less heroic.

Death is just one tool in the superhero comic book storytelling arsenal. If you can’t buy into the moment because of your own expectations for what happens next, then that is too bad. It’s not the writer’s fault, or marketing’s, or the company’s. It’s your fault. Don’t blame it on comics.

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