The Walking Dead #50 — Writer: Robert Kirkman; Art: Charlie Adlard
One of a number of books this week that were more than good enough to read, but that I just wasn’t quite attracted enough to to buy. Kirkman’s zombie comic reaches its landmark 50th issue (a rare accomplishment for an Image title) with a comparatively-quiet story, as Rick lies near death and his son has to cope. There are a few false notes — a conveniently recoilless revolver, and the is-Dad-a-zombie? chain that gets pulled one too many times — but deft characterization, and Kirkman’s ability to evoke grief and other emotions, set this miles above the other living-dead books out there.
The Sword #9 — Writers/Artists: Joshua and Jonathan Luna
Lots of action, and it ends in just the right place to make readers look forward to the next issue; I like the way the Luna brothers make use of the title object’s healing properties, and the way their bad guys don’t think they’re bad guys (but clearly are). There’s been something not quite substantial enough about all of their books, from Ultra to Girls to this title — they’re action-filled, and entertaining, but somehow feel like mostly empty calories — but they keep improving, and this one’s definitely the best so far.
Patsy Walker: Hellcat #1 (of 5) — Writer: Kathryn Immonen; Artist: David Lafuente
Yet another good book — the mangafied art is pretty and self-assured, and fits the character well, and the script ignores all of her baggage (*cough* Son of Satan *cough*) and gets back to her original Steve Englehart conception as a spunky heroine, an ex-cheerleader with both spirit, brains and a sunny worldview in spite of whatever grief gets thrown at her. The Alaskan supporting cast is a little too Men In Trees, and it’s not clear the main story is going anywhere new, but it’s fun to read and look at, and the last-page caption hits just the right note (although that last comma ought to be a semicolon, dammit…).
House of Mystery #3 — Writer: Mathew Sturges; Art: Luca Rossi (main story); Zachary Baldus (4-pg. interior story)
Bill Willingham is credited on the cover, but doesn’t seem to have actually contributed anything this time, and he’s missed; the “interior story” is boring, and could use some of his creepy, pop-fairy-tale oomph. Without that, we’re left with watching the newbie character go through some standard try-to-get-out-of-the-magic-house stuff, and with getting a few small hints about What’s Really Going On, and that’s not enough to sustain much interest in this title right now.
Star Trek: Assignment Earth #3 — Writer/Artist: John Byrne
Still working the late-’60s cheesy-TV-show vibe (and, unlike last issue, this one has no connection to Star Trek at all), but there’s a last-page epilogue that pulls a Lostian (Lostesque?) fast-forward jump to the present day that’s much more intriguing than the main story; that one page shows more potential than all the rest of these first three issues together.
Storming Paradise #1 — Writer: Chuck Dixon; Art: Butch Guice
You know how, when the ethics of dropping the atomic bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki are debated, one big argument in favor is that trying to win the war by conventional forces would have cost millions of lives, on both sides? Well, that’s what this what-if? series explores; it begins with the first atomic explosion at White Sands killing Fermi, Oppenheimer, et. al. (Roosevelt says “those eggheads in New Mexico got a decimal point in the wrong place,” which is both highly unlikely and damned convenient for the story), which means no atom bomb, which means take the Pacific Theater island by island, bloodily. Dixon’s grasp of military tactics, fortunately, is much firmer than his grasp of atomic physics, and Guice’s art is suitably gritty and realistic; the result is a not-bad alternative-history WWII comic.
Squadron Supreme #1 (of 6) — Writer: Howard Chaykin; Art: Marco Turini
J. Michael Straczynski having departed (in a cloud of missed editorial opportunity and failed potential), Chaykin is left to try to pick up the pieces of the Supreme universe. Unfortunately, he’s not doing the art, and the cliche-filled script doesn’t help. There’s no easy entry into this book; the plotline is so tangled by now that new readers will just be confused, while old ones won’t care, and this book is almost guaranteed to sink quickly into low-sales oblivion.
Phil Mateer
