This week brought another issue of what remains my favorite new comic of 2010, American Vampire by Scott Snyder, Stephen King and Rafael Albuquerque. This is a really solid issue and one in which both Snyder's and King's stories achieve narrative fulfillment in the best of all possible ways: they let you appreciate the close of their current respective arcs and entice you into wanting to know what happens next.
Read on for more abject praise and a bit of navel-gazing about why I'm so glad Scott Snyder is the new pick to write Detective Comics!
Hawkeye & Mockingbird #1 was an excellent introductory issue for the new Heroic Age series, so I found my curiosity revamped this week in seeing that the issue had been adapted for the various iDevices, and was available for free download. To have that portability- to carry an issue around and get friends and coworkers to look at a comic on the fly-that's one of an ereader's most redeeming factors, so I was glad to have that option made available. But my skepticism of the digital format remained- what intrinsic differences arise from reading a comic this way, having already devoured the issue in all its glossy goodness? Would I really want to expose my pals to a paper edition first? A few thoughts on the digital reading experience...
Most Comixology-derived readers take the audience on a guided walkthough of the panels and narrative boxes, as if the "camera" were on a track that pans and zooms across the page. This act itself is disconcerting as a reader, as you're now physically interacting with the page at least once per panel, if not more, instead of the simple act of flipping every 2 pages. Even then, this break-up of the page seems arbitrary at times, restricting what you read to whatever portions the editor deems relevant. H&M's title page is a perfect example. In the digital copy, we're guided to a small opening caption, zoom out to the splash image and credits, and resume the plot by zooming in on the narrative boxes towards the bottom of the page. Penciler David Lopez filled the single picture with smaller, intimate moments, taking the time to show each nameless thug in reaction to the Pym arrows, but in the digital edition, you'll have to manually scroll around the page to observe this. When I first read the issue on paper, it forced my eye to follow the arch of the arrows from bow to target. Here, the frame kills any fluidity in the image.
Likewise, pages with creative paneling don't suit a rectangular screen well. It's a great idea to frame Bobbi's dreams with her bedsheets, but no ereader can suit irregularly-shaped panels without elements of the surrounding picture cutting into the frame. Digital-exclusive comics could pull this off well by playing with the cut, or in being aware that the Phantom Rider overlaps into the next screen and writing around that fact. This awkwardness in translation will continue to exist in all comics that aren't presented in strictly rectangular format, or aren't made with the ereader in mind, and no work of art should have to compromise its intent of presentation for its mode of presentation.
With digital adaptations, it's almost exclusively the art that suffers. The supplementary backstory at the end issue is the only part of the issue that's improved upon when digitized- having a guide through the myriad text boxes ensures that you read them in proper order and within context, though it requires a page with a 200+ word count to be find a measure of efficacy. There's nothing particularly wrong with digital formatization, and the uninitiated will likely enjoy a digital issue as much as a floppy one, but if I'm left with an option, I'll opt for the edition that'll permit a looser, freer reading of the material. Without the synchronicity of artwork and prose, you get a flurry of text followed by an oddly-sized image that ultimately kills the open-endedness of actual reading experience.
Rubber Justice tweeted a couple of weeks ago that the dialogue for Batman & Robin #13 is brilliant and honestly I'm not sure there's a better word for it. This issue sports amazing writing, some moments that made me pause and admire the precision with which Morrison has assembled this story and at least a couple of gasps of surprise. Throw in some really beautiful art and... yeah. It's really, really good.
Two or three months ago I had posited that issue #13 would have to bring some major cycle to a close, or otherwise contain some significant conclusion and possibly a new beginning. At the time I thought it would all have to do with a major symbolic break in the identities involved: Bruce Wayne would return or Dick Grayson would relinquish the identity of Batman or something like that. I was wrong about the details but right in a general sense in that this issue - when viewed through some of the mystical lenses favored by Morrison himself - would mark the completion of a cycle of some sort, perhaps one of initiation. This issue does that and it manages to do so in the middle of a classic Batman form so engaging that the reader barely even notices.
Am I the only one who thought that when I saw the futuristic T-shaped mask he's wearing here, as he sells some kind of high quality audio laptop? The rest of the outfit works pretty well too!
Irony can be a powerful tool, as the anti-Westboro church demonstrators showed yesterday outside of SDCC, but Matt Fraction and his wife Kelly Sue DeConnick found a better way to cancel out Phelps' bigotry. Organized under the #godlovesbatman hashtag on twitter, the duo set up a pledge
...in the spirit of love, we are pledging to donate $50 to amfAR if Phelps and his crew actually show up (often they don't) and $10 an hour additional to amfAR for every hour they stay. And we'll make our donation in Fred's name.
Frankly, the politest kick in the nuts I've ever seen, as it essentially turns the protest into money earned toward a cause he opposes, like AIDS reseach. Phelps and crew ended up making a poor show of it anyway, ditching the San Diego streetside in under an hour, presumably to wash off the smell of defeat by Bender's shiny metal ass. Truer to their word, the couple made up for the church's rather limp appearance with a $100 donation each to amfAR. The noble endeavor is still taking personal donations, and acts of kindness done in the name of the project should continue regardless of Phelps' presence. If you want to find a way to help, or to check out recommended funds, check Kelly Sue's blog for details.
While I'm not able to go to the con this year myself, I had to point out this story once I saw it. The reverend Fred Phelps, the "God Hates F**S" preacher, set out to protest in front of Comic-Con 2010 because it was 'idolatry'.
He was met by the most amazing counter protest I've ever seen. A crowd of cosplaying comic fans mocked him with cries of "WHAT DO WE WANT", "GAY SEX", "WHEN DO WE WANT IT", "NOW!"
To everyone who participated in the counter protest, know this: You are awesome.
You can see some of the images below, or check out the full gallery by following the link. (including video)
Super Heroes vs. the Westboro Baptist Church [Comics Alliance]
When Gail Simone apparently killed off her Birds of Prey characters Savant and Creote, she advised dissenting fans to be patient. Issue 3 pays off in an odd way by really changing where the characters stood and will continue to play out in the arc. Nothing I could go into though, without a few spoilers, so check back after the jump.
I literally clapped my hands together and said OhMyGodYesssss when the friendly staff member at my regular shop held this book out to hand it to me. Allan Heinberg and Jim Cheung finally - finally - return to this title with a nine issue limited series. I will spare you paragraphs of pontification and cut to the chase: it's not just good, it's the best thing Marvel has going, period.
Read on for the pontification and petty quibbles!
Really, pretty self explanatory. This shot was released along with a USA TODAY article about Kenneth Branagh and Chris Hemsworth, and how the production team wanted to make sure they were ready for Comic-Con.
Large version of the picture below. Chris has definitely put on a LOT of muscle for the role.
I've been working my way through the second volume of the first-ever complete collection of Bloom County and whereas the first seemed haphazardly littered with pop culture footnotes so random they seemed as likely to have been drawn from a hat as placed by any sort of conscious design, this volume is more solidly curated and gives me more of what I really wanted: a glimpse at the mind of Berke Breathed.
Now that we've all got a look at Green Lantern's costume for the upcoming movie (and a wealth of opinions to match), there are a few assumptions we can make about DC's proposed "image"- namely, I feel that all these recent character modifications indicate that the publisher is more aware of its popular presence. We're all still finding our footing with the recent redesign of Wonder Woman, a switch to a more human, 90's aesthetic. I wouldn't be the only one to point out that Diana's new duds seem to be built with a more approachable real-life duplicate in mind. DC certainly wouldn't want their most iconic female character strutting around in boots and a bustier that can be found on most New Jersey boardwalks, not when the character faces so much exposition from the silver screen. In Ryan Reynolds' case, it seems the designers are going for a more "bad-ass" look; Gone are the dainty white gloves, the domino mask is more angular and edgy and the sinewy treatment for the chest aims to make Green Lantern look something like your standard RPG villain. As with any change though, DC is unraveling the iconic status of its established heroes. This poses a fundamental question; Does DC really need to so radically depart from its status quo to make its character set more approachable? Superheroes appear outside their home medium more and more everyday- if their owners feel the need to compromise their appearance, doesn't that propagate a feeling of alienation from the comics genre, where their original designs were accepted?
