Oh, The Inhumanity!


Inhumanity #1 is a not-bad comic book. The story is a little too talky, the art's pretty good, but the talents of both Matt Fraction and Olivier Coipel are wasted, basically, on a book that has two serious issues. The first of these is in kind, the second is in concept. 

The problem with the kind of comic book that Inhumanity is that such books are not comics-- in fact aren't really art-- in a traditional sense, because they doesn't serve their own purposes. Instead, they're merely set up for something else, in this case the upcoming Inhuman series, which once upon a time was going to be written by Fraction, and now is to be written by up and comer Charles Soule.  And, so, Inhumanity #1 is loaded with information; the prehistory and current state of the Inhumans, what exactly went down at the end of Infinity, the unknown status of most of the Inhuman royal family, and so on. For fans of comics with deep worlds and dense mythologies to explore, this is a doozy. But it makes for boring reading. 

So Matt Fraction does his best to keep us interested. He brings in the Avengers. He has a character walk out of a window at the end. But these things are a distraction, at best, from the fact that his job here is to manufacture interest in a story, which brings us to the problem in concept: it's not clear to me that this is a story that very many people are going to be interested in. It's not clear to me that anyone really cares about the Inhumans, a property that has been humming along quietly since its introduction forty years ago. Occasionally, they've been players in Fantastic Four stories, and they have regularly appeared in minor Marvel mini-series every couple of years since the beginning of the century. Every character is somebody's favorite, but the number of people clamoring for a density of books about these characters were likely few and far between.

This isn't to say that I don't think that the Inhumans are interesting, or that I think that Inhuman isn't going to be good. It's not out yet. I can't say. But I do know that Marvel fired Matt Fraction off of the comic, which means that they have certain things that they want done with it, things that Fraction wasn't doing. That suggests that Marvel has big plans for this story. But for those big plans to work, people have to actually care. And the biggest barrier to caring here is that readers actually have to know about the Inhumans, and I'm not sure that many people, particularly many casual readers of comics, do. 

To some extent, Inhumanity is the remedy to that. It's a history lesson, more or less, and it lays out the major players. But, even so, it relies too much on its readers when it expects them to know who Medusa or Triton or Lockjaw (here referred to as "the king's dog," perhaps the blandest possible way to describe a giant mustachioed canine teleporter with a tuning fork on his head) are, or when it expects them to feel something when Karnak, a character with an interesting history that most of them have literally just been introduced to, steps out of a window. In some ways, it seems a little bit like an exercise in erasure, which may actually be the solution to the problem I'm describing. 

The problem, at least for right now, is that you can still see Jack Kirby's chalk on the board.

Missed It!

I'm no good at year-end best-of lists. Writing them, I think, requires a certain amount of self-confidence, requires the ability to say "I read a large enough number of comics this year that I feel I can make an evaluation on the state of the art for the past twelve months" while keeping a straight face. Somewhere in the middle of that I always crack up a little bit; I just don't think I have. Maybe, one day, if I'm lucky, if reading comics is my job. For now, though, it's an exercise I would rather leave to others, confident in my own belief that I read just enough comics this year, even though next year I would like to read more.

Now there's an idea! Reading more. A perpetual new year's resolution, something I intend to do every year, something that I never quite get to. I think it will help, though, if I have a place to start and, so, here's a different kind of year end list, one that I'm perfectly qualified to write. Here's a list of comics, published in 2013, that I would like to get to sometime in 2014. Some, like Matt Fraction and Chip Zdarsky's Sex Criminals, I've bought faithfully and just haven't read yet. Others, I intended to read put off for some reason, time, expense, whatever. More still, I saw, thought they looked interesting, and moved on with my life. The selection of publishers here is limited; this is reflective of the facts that my knowledge of minicomics publishers is woeful (do you have recommendations? Email me!) and that I tend to buy floppies rather than books. Furthermore, this list is in no particular order and is by no means comprehensive; it should not be held to have any other meaning outside of that of a to do list. Nothing will happen if I don't get to at least a few of them by the time 2014 is done, but I expect my life will be a little richer if I do manage to crack open a couple.













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Coming Soon to A Spinner Rack Near You: Seconds


Seconds, Bryan Lee O'Malley's follow up to Scott Pilgrim, is due in July. Mosey on over to io9 for some art.  



Competition and the Comics Marketplace


Although I'm trying to move away from writing about industry news (there are other, much better sources, for that kind of info, chief among them Comics Reporter and Bleeding Cool, the latter of which I lifted the substantive content of this report from), it seemed worth noting that both Marvel and DC dropped below 30% dollar share of the comics market in November, particularly as both companies finally seem to be abandoning lower price points for higher ones.

Comics are, I think, the most expensive form of popular entertainment. People complain about the cost of going to the movies more often and more loudly, sure, but a movie typically lasts in between 90 and 120 minutes and costs, in my recent experience, anywhere between $8 and $14. A 32-page comic, read exceptionally slowly, takes maybe a quarter of an hour from font to back, and costs between $2.99 and $3.99. I won't do the math for you-- the difference is clear. Obviously, you get to keep your comic book, and buying a DVD is significantly more expensive than going out to the movies (something, incidentally, I never hear anyone complain about), but the experience of buying and reading individual comic books is, I think, closer to the ephemeral experience of going to the movies than the permanent ownership of a DVD; you buy your comics, you read them, and then you put them away. They go into your longbox, out of sight, unlikely ever to be read again.

And, so, that people are choosing to bring their money elsewhere is significant, since it suggests that readers are trying unfamiliar things.  As Marvel and DC continue to stumble (the latter, perhaps, more than the former) they may very well get scared. Since neither is likely to retreat on an increased price point, they'll either double down on what isn't working (which will continue to drive people towards more inventive publishers, which will in turn fund greater output from those publishers), or, hopefully, they'll try more new and possibly interesting things. Either way, if you're a comics reader, these numbers are a good sign. 

' "Year One" and a Half' or 'How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love Scott Snyder's "Zero Year" '

Why?

We ask this awful little question of our art and our artists often. Why did you make this choice? Why didn't we get to see that thing? Why does this entire thing exist?

(Ask me someday about the time I met Rick Remender. Boy, did I put my foot in my mouth!)

You're far and away not going to be the first or the last to ask that question about the current epic Batman saga from Scott Snyder and Greg Capullo: "Zero Year," yet another reimagining/updating of Bruce Wayne's return to his corrupt hometown and first steps toward becoming the world's greatest crime-fighter.

The Kane/Finger Golden Age original
Yeah. Batman's origin. Bob Kane and Bill Finger's story. Again. Why is Snyder biting off more than he can chew? Why do this again?

I asked it. Vehemently, actually. Why measure yourself directly against the greats of the past? Why take the risk?

But I'm reminded of one of my proudest academic moments: I sat discussing "Othello" in a freshman year Shakespeare class at Bard College and another student questioned Shakespeare's placement of a long side-narrative soliloquy spoken by the poor, much-abused O himself, pretty much right in the middle of the otherwise fast-paced big suicidal finale. 'Why do this whole side-monologue-thing?' my fellow student asked. And he wasn't entirely wrong. But I blurted out something along the lines of: Because it's FUCKING BADASS! That's why! He put it in because it's good!

Now we're less than half-way through the Snyder/Capullo team's eleven-issue-long-origum-opus, but I'm going to go out on a limb and declare it to be GOOD.

The third issue makes remarkably intelligent and brave storytelling chronology choices I've never seen in comics before. American superhero comics, certainly. These three panels below are in their intended order but Panel 2 takes place before both Panel 1 and Panel 3. Somehow this works, despite all sanity.

The jarringly beautiful storytelling on display in the new "Batman" #23
Seriously, read issue #23 if you read nothing else of the story. It's pretty amazing. If you want to hear more about my thoughts on the quality of the issues, it just so happens to be the subject of the first episode of my new podcast recorded in comics-related NYC locales reviewing recent comics related to those locales.
(Listen here, I'd love it if you do!)

Capullo's hologram bats...
Perhaps strangely, perversely even, the parts of "Zero Year" I'm enjoying the most are the parts that reference and directly or indirectly contradict Frank Miller and David Mazzucchelli's celebrated work from 1987: "Batman: Year One."

I suppose that shouldn't be so strange since I've said for years that although "Year One" is good, it's not really Batman's story but James Gordon's. Until the Miller/Mazzucchelli story, Commissioner Gordon had been a paper-thin character. Miller introduced us to LIEUTENANT Gordon, made him ex-military, gave him an ex-wife, and made him extremely angry. As insipid as that makes it sound, he lives and breathes as a vivid personality in the books. 

So, for example, we've been given very little of Gordon so far in "Zero Year." I have no idea where he comes from or if he has a pregnant wife fed-up with his workaholism, but he is certainly angry. And tough. The few times we see Snyder's Gordon have had added weight for me because nothing has contradicted Miller's Gordon. They are, so far, identical characters.

The same is nearly true of Bruce and Alfred. And, more importantly, their relationship.

Miller/Mazzucchelli 80s take on the moment
In-between page 8 and page 22 of the first issue of the 1980s "Year One", Bruce is put through a torturous evening his first night as a crime-fighter that forces him to rethink his entire plan. Until he sees a bat fly into his father's study and realizes he needs to make people fear him on a primal level if he's going to win his war. A similar event happens over in the entire third issue of "Zero Year", in the aftermath of just about everything in issues #21 and #22.

3 panels- expanded to 14 pages- expanded to roughly a full 22-page comic-book.

None of the three make it explicitly clear that all the events depicted happen on the same night or that they don't, which keeps it loose. Most importantly, we see a scene of Alfred and Bruce after the resourceful butler has performed the life-saving surgery Miller hinted at and the scene is sad, beautiful, and rings true. I imagine the scenes Snyder wrote fitting precariously in-between the pages Miller wrote, the pages Miller wrote filling-out the panels Bob Kane wrote, and we get something even more powerful than each was separately. Seventy-plus years in the making.

(I actually wrote an editorial years ago about how awesome it is when this happens. Intertextuality, yo!)

Snyder/Capullo version of the same
The answer to this article's initial question could be many-fold. Snyder thought he deserved a crack at it. (He may as well be right.) Capullo wanted to do it. Snyder thought "Batman: Year One" didn't have enough Batman in it. (I'd say he's right.) DC Editorial figured it would sell them some comics. (They definitely turned out to be right.) Some fan somewhere asked for it. Liberals hate Frank Miller now. Everyone agreed it could be badass.

Who knows? But, in other words...

Why not?

~ @JonGorga