Detective Comics

Why “flagship”? Well, there’s the name thing — “DC” comes from, yes, “Detective Comics” — and the fact that it’s the oldest continuously published comic in the US, with a first-issue cover date of March, 1937, over a year before Action #1 (although, of course, the Caped Crusader himself didn’t show up until issue #27, dated March, 1939). Just looking through the covers is a capsule history of comics trends, from the pulp-influenced ’40s (seen here in the menacing Joker-with-guns pose from issue #69) through the toned-down Comics-Code-influenced silly-sf ’50s (check out the “captive planet” cover for issue #256, which looks like it wandered in from an issue of Strange Adventures) to the “New Look”/back-to-detective-basics ’60s, where the transition from the stupid-aliens cover in #326 to the Infantino mystery in #327 sums up the extreme change in style nicely. The ’70s might be the most fondly-remembered decade for many fans; it starts with the January, 1970 issue, the first Detective with a Denny O’Neil/Neal Adams interior story and winds through a few more years of occasional Adams work, the 100-Page Giants from issues #438-445 (many with the Archie Goodwin/Walt Simonson Manhunter serial, plus lots of Silver and Golden-Age reprints, and lead stories by Adams and, in the pictured #442, Alex Toth), and, from issues #471-476, the Steve Englehart/Marshall Rogers run that some of us would argue is the post-’40s Detective high point. Not only that, but issues #481-495 mark the transition from 1979 to 1980 with a 64-pg. $1 format that sees lead stories featuring Batman, plus Robin/Batgirl stories, plus other, rotating back-ups starring characters like Commissioner Gordon and Steve Ditko’s Odd Man.

None of these are sitting on the discount racks, of course, but many issues from the ’50s up are now restocked and available on the main floor, with the more key issues (like this, this, this and this) also on display. The bulk of the bargains start after issue #500, in the early ’80s, and for 99 cents each there’s a lot of cool Bat-reading; for one thing, at this point Gene Colan comes over from Marvel, fresh from his work on Tomb of Dracula, and settles in for a long Detective run — issues #510, 512, 517 (part of a great Batman-vs.-vampires crossover with Batman), 523, and most of #s 528-567 — although issues #547-552 have art by Pat Broderick instead, which is a considerable step below Gentleman Gene (to make up for it, #549-550 have an Alan Moore-scripted Green Arrow back-up story with art by Klaus Janson). Most of the non-Colan issues from #500-526 have art from Phoenix’s own Don Newton, so they’re worth checking out, too — especially #526, an anniversary issue (Batman’s 500th appearance in Detective, with a 56-page story by Newton). Writer Doug Moench starts on the title with the next issue, #527, and he and Colan provide a well-regarded couple of years on the book, involving the early Jason-Todd-as-Robin issues, love interests Nocturna and Catwoman (who practically becomes a co-star for awhile), a reinvigorated Catman as antagonist, Harvey Bullock as comic relief, and a tight continuity with the Batman comic, as stories frequently cross over, requiring readesr to follow both books. Moench’s last issue is #566, while Colan’s last issue, #567, boasts his art over a script by Harlan Ellison; after that, Mike Barr and Alan Davis are the regular team for a while, through #574, after which Todd McFarlane contributes three issues. Barr stays on through issue #581, and then there’s a fallow period, mostly with Alan Grant scripting and Norm Breyfogle drawing, enlivened by a three-parter in issues #598-600 by Batman movie scriptwriter Sam Hamm and art by Denys Cowan (although, truth be told, that story seemed considerably more worthwhile at the time then it does in retrospect).

The early 600s — and the early ’90s — are similarly flat; a John Ostrander three-parter with covers by legendary Batman artist (and Arizona resident) Dick Sprang in issues #622-624 is fun, and Marv Wolfman and Jim Aparo team up for a while in issues #625-628 (over Michael Golden covers). Then, Peter Milliogan comes on board, and the scripts get both stranger and more intriguing; he and Aparo are in #s 629-632, with Tom Mandrake art in #633, and then after some other creative teams Milligan and Aparo are back in issues #638-640 and #643; Aparo also draws #s 641-642 over Alan Grant scripts. After that, Chuck Dixon, who pretty much defines competent-but-generic, is scripter with a number of artists.

The next story of import occurs in #659, and it’s one getting a lot of interest this year: it’s part two of the “Knightfall” serial, which begins in Batman and crisscrosses through the Bat-titles for almost a year, leading to both the (temporary) end of Bruce Wayne as Batman, and the inspiration for this summer’s much-anticipated Batman movie. Jim Balent (of Catwoman and Tarot fame) does the art chores in #660, part four of the crossover, and Dixon continues as writer (with Kelley Jones supplying most of the covers) through the aptly-numbered issue #666, the last issue of Detective before “Knightfall” and and another character takes over the Batman cape….

…but that’s a good place to stop, since those are all the issues that are on the discount racks for now. That leaves 20 years of Detective to go, though, so buy them while you can, create some rack space, and come back in two weeks to see how the Dark Knight fared in the rest of the ’90s and the ’00s.

Impressively, I actually knew this one (although I had to do some Googling — and some reading in the Overstreet Price Guide, and online at the Grand Comics Database — to flesh out the details, so maybe it’s not that impressive). The book Ed’s thinking of is a Marvel (well, Epic) graphic novel from 1988, called Iron Man: Crash; it was created by Mike Saenz, and billed as “the first computer generated graphic novel.” It’s set about 30 years in the future, where Tony Stark is still around, long retired from heroing but keeping himself artificially young, and caught up in some industrial-espionage/spy/technowar thing. You can tell that Seanz had been reading a lot of cyberpunk stuff, and the influence of Batman: The Dark Knight Returns (which had been published just two years before) is obvious — there’s even one of those patented Miller TV panel-grid info-dump sequences. The art is… primitive, in the same way that early CGI in movies was: pretty good on the special effects, but stiff and unconvincing with the humans, especially the faces. Still, considering that this came out a year before Tim Berners-Lee put the World Wide Web together for the first time, it’s an interesting achievement; if you were 15 years old when it came out, and into computers and comics, you’d have loved it, especially the seven pages in the appendix about how the book was created.

By the way, although Crash is billed as the first computer graphic novel, it’s not the first computer-generated comic. That honor belongs to Saenz too, though: in 1985, he created Shatter, a regular four-color comic book, for First Comics; it was a similar future-type Blade Runneresque story that had a one-shot debut, and then a 14-issue regular-series run (although Saenz left after the first two issues), and is certainly the reason he was able to pitch the Iron Man book to Marvel. As an even earlier attempt, it’s even more primitive in its art, but again it’s remarkable that he created it at all; Shatter and Iron Man: Crash, with their exaggerated pixels and awkward expressions and occasionally-cool colors and designs, will always have a small but significant niche in comics history.

Daredevil

DD continues to be a bright spot among the Marvel books — literally, since its pages are splashed with lots of reds, blues and other primary colors. That gives it a unique look (even when a different artist is drawing it, as here, although Kano turns out to be a good match for the previous pencillers), and suits its sunny, optimistic stories. This issue, the second part of a crossover with Amazing Spider-Man, features Spidey, DD and the Black Cat battling bad guys (and sometimes each other), and ends with an intriguing new relationship; let’s just say that if Felicia is an analogue to DC’s Catwoman, and Matt has some traits in common with Batman, then it was probably inevitable….

Fables #113 — Writer: Bill Willingham;  Art: Rick Leonardi and Ron Randall; P. Craig Russell; Zander Cannon and Jim Fern;  Ramon Bachs and Ron Randall; Adam Hughes

This is one of those take-a-break issues that Willingham throws in every so often: a bunch of small stories of times past, self-contained but crisscrossing into the regular continuity in a couple of ways, and giving a number of different artists a chance to participate. Russell and Hughes are the standouts, but everyone seems to be having a good time; the fairy-tale fantasy milieu gives artists a chance to stretch their abilities, and their enthusiasm shines through. “Turtles all the way down,” indeed.

Legion of Super-Heroes #5 — Writer: Paul Levitz;  Pencils: Walt Simonson;  Inks: Dan Green and Sean Parsons

Another comic worth noting for its art: Walt Simonson might not be the first guy who comes to mind as an LSH chronicler, but his penciling is always a treat. This, like Fables, is something of a change-of-pace story, as Levitz tracks 24 hours with the team, and shows most of its members just living their lives instead of battling any cosmic-level bad guys; new readers will be equally confused and intrigued by all the characters and relationships on display, but longtime fans should like it a lot.

Wonder Woman #5 — Writer: Brian Azzarello;  Art: Tony Akins

I’ve never warmed that much to Azzarello; I didn’t like his Superman arc, and only got maybe a third of the way into 100 Bullets before losing interest (I knew it was good, and that I ought to be reading it, but just didn’t like it that much). Thus, I keep almost-dropping this book; however, the creators keep pulling me back: I like the way the gods are written as bickering soap-opera characters, and I especially liked the book’s last few pages — Akins really shows his stuff in two big splashes involving Lord Poseidon (heh: “splashes”? “Poseidon”? Is this thing on…?), and the clever way Diana’s able to hold her own with her divine antagonists. Sign me up for a few more….

Superior #7 (of 7) — Writer: Mark Millar;  Art: Leinil Yu

The conclusion of Millar’s latest foray into super-hero marketing: there’s a big, satisfying battle, and Yu does a good job with all the big scenes and elaborate set pieces he’s called on to draw. It’s a cinematic comic in both the best and worst senses: like, say, Independence Day, it has multiple plot holes that you could throw a giant transformed alien through (the “soul” thing makes no sense at all), but the story just rockets ahead so quickly, and with so many satisfying small scenes and twists, that the readers finish the book happily; it’s loud, goofy fun, and any criticism, however legitimate, seems besides the point.

Catwoman #5 — Writer: Judd Winick;  Art: Guillem March

This book started with controversy (Bat-sex will do that), but it was obviously deliberate: it generated press, and guaranteed that the comic wouldn’t be seen as boring. Meanwhile, Winick has established his heroine as feisty, smart and a survivor, and each issue has enough cool little moments and cliffhangers to keep those initial readers coming back for more; stir in March’s inviting art, and ability to make Selina look alternatively imposing, sexy and vulnerable, as the story requires, and it’s clear that this book is a survivor, just like its title character.

Moon Knight — Writer: Brian Michael Bendis;  Art: Alex Maleev

Ultimate Spider-Man #6 — Writer: Brian Michael Bendis;  Art: Chris Samnee

Avengers #21 — Writer: Brian Michael Bendis;  Pencils: Renato Guedes;  Inks: Jose Magalhaes

Three by Bendis: Moon Knight is one big battle scene, and ends with a major, and tragic, plot development; Maleev’s shadowy, nuanced art, and the title character’s Greek chorus of superhero voices in his head, make it worth looking at. Ultimate Spider-Man also benefits from its visuals — Samnee’s one of the best young artists out there right now; his drawing, although it doesn’t look anything like John Byrne’s, is somehow still good at echoing both Byrne’s clear storytelling and sense of fun, which makes Miguel’s adventures appealing. The story itself is still in young-hero-learns-the-ropes mode, and reminiscent of Bendis’s earlier work on the title (there’s a scene with the cops that we’ve seen at least a couple of times before); that’s the same trouble with Avengers, wherein all the Norman Osborn/evil Avengers stuff seems like a rerun (plus, there’s a truth-in-advertising issue: the cover showcases Storm, who only shows up in the story for two pages, unconscious). Still, it’s another chapter in the ongoing adventures of Marvel’s biggest stars, and even with its faults it’s readable and engaging enough to keep its audience satisfied.

Amazing Spider-Man #678 — Writer: Dan Slott;  Pencils: Humberto Ramos;  Inks: Victor Olazaba

Invincible Iron Man #512 — Writer: Matt Fraction;  Art: Salvador Larroca

Uncanny X-Men #5 — Writer: Kieron Gillen;  Pencils: Greg Land;  Inks: Jay Leisten

Three titles linked because they’re all readable and engaging, too, but there’s not that much else to say about them. ASM starts a two-parter wherein Peter sees a destroyed New York City 24 hours into the future, and knows that something he either did or didn’t do led to it… but what? The suspense, and the Ramos art, carry it along nicely. Iron Man continues the machinations of the Mandarin (who’s proving, to the chagrin of people like Obadiah Stane and the Living Laser, that he’s not an ally who plays nicely with the other super-villains); Fraction and Larocca have been at this long enough for readers to trust them, and trust that the story will eventually resolve itself satisfactorily. So too for UXM, wherein Gillen and Land build off of events in Uncanny X-Factor, and throw the team into a Savage Land-like hostile environment and then let the sparks fly.

Dr. Strange

Dr. Stephen Strange is the “other” Marvel mainstay created by Stan Lee and Steve Ditko (after Spider-Man, of course), and first appears as the back-up story in Strange Tales #110, in 1963. He has a typical Stan Lee fairy-tale, there’s-a-lesson-here origin: he’s a world-renowned surgeon, arrogant and uncaring, but then gets in a drunken car wreck that damages his hands, and makes it impossible for him to do surgery any more. Bitter and depressed, he schleps around the globe, eventually ending up at one of those hidden-temple Shangri-La Far East outposts, where he encounters the Ancient One, a magician/guru, and his disciple, Baron Mordo. Strange accidentally discovers that Mordo is really a villain, who’s learning the Ancient One’s arts for evil, and, revealing his buried heroism, risks his life to warn everyone about it and stop Mordo’s plans; Mordo ends up banished, and Strange becomes the Ancient One’s new disciple. All of this is rendered with imagination and grace by Ditko, whose ability to draw weird other dimensions, and make mystical powers like “bolts of bedevilment” seem both realistic and trippy/cool, turns the origin, and the tales that follow it, into ’60s hippy classics. Ditko leaves the book in 1966, with issue #146, but Strange soldiers on — drawn by, among others, Bill Everett, Marie Severin, Dan Adkins and Jim Steranko — and eventually takes over the comic, as Strange Tales becomes Dr. Strange with issue #169, in 1968. In issue #172, he receives his second great artist, Gene Colan, who draws him through the end of the book’s run, with issue #183, in 1969.

Strange is relegated to guest-star status for a while after that, but returns to his own stories in 1972, in the try-out title Marvel Premiere. His first appearance there, in issue #3, is written by Lee and drawn by Barry Windsor-Smith, and is a small masterpiece of mood and cool art (Strange, with his mystical and fantasy elements, has always attracted good artists). Lee only writes the first issue, and Smith only stays around for the next one, #4; there’s some flailing around after that, but in issue #9 the team of Steve Englehart and Frank Brunner takes over, and quickly makes the book a cult favorite, by doing things like killing the Ancient One, and having Dr. Strange travel to the beginning of the universe and meet God; after Marvel Premier #14, in fact, the book proves popular enough to get its own title again, and Dr. Strange #1 appears in June, 1974, still by Englehart and Brunner. That artist leaves after issue #5, but his replacement is Gene Colan, and he and Englehart, during the next year, deliver one of the best sustained Marvel runs of the ’70s: Dr. Strange #s 6-18, among other things, destroy the world and remake it, have Dr. Strange fight Dracula (in a two-parter that crosses over with Colan’s second title, Tomb of Dracula), and send Dr. Strange to Hell. Only a few of these issues are on the discount racks, but they’re surprisingly cheap, and available in the regular back-issue boxes for $5 or less each; if you’ve never read them, you’re missing some wonderful, influential work.

Unfortunately, just when the book is at its peak Englehart gets into a dispute with Marvel’s new editor-in-chief, Gerry Conway, and leaves the company; that leaves the book to try to pick up the pieces, and it goes into musical-creator mode for awhile. Part of the problem is that not all writers are compatible with the Doctor — Marv Wolfman and Chris Clarement, among others, try and mostly fail — but there are some interesting moments: Jim Starlin writing issues #24-26; Roger Stern and Tom Sutton on #s 27-30; Claremont and Colan on #s 38-45 (Claremont doesn’t add much, but the Colan art is worth a look). The next really decent run, though, starts with issue #47, as Roger Stern (who does prove to be a great Doc writer) teams with Colan for that issue, and then with Marshall Rogers from #48-53,  Michael Golden in #55, and Paul Smith in #56. Stern stays on with some lesser artists (although there’s another battle with Dracula in #s 60-62 that banishes all vampires from the Marvel Universe for awhile that’s pretty good), but then Smith returns in issue #65, and he and Stern have a nice little set of stories through issue #73. Both leave at that point, though, and the book only lasts a few more months, ending with issue #81 in February, 1987.

Strange’s third volume begins about a year and a half later, in November, 1988, and is titled Doctor Strange, Sorcerer Supreme; the initial writer is Peter Gillis (who’d been the scripter for the last few issues of the previous series), with art chores by Richard Case (who’d eventually go on to DC Vertigo titles like Doom Patrol); that team only stays for the first four issues, though, and then is replaced by Roy Thomas (with, as co-writer, his wife Dann) and Jackson Guice, an association that proves fruitful enough to last for two years, through issue #24 (although there are a few fill-in artists: Richard Valentino in #17, and Gene Colan in #19). The most notorious issue of this run comes, not from any plot or character development, but from a cover: on issue #15, Guice swiped an image from one of Christian singer Amy Grant’s albums, and Grant, upset at both the theft and the fact that it was used on a “demonic” character’s cover, sued Marvel, who eventually settled out of court. The Thomases stay on after that, but with a series of undistinguished artists (Geof Isherwood being the most long-lived); even the plots become less memorable, because this is a period – the early ’90s — when Marvel is heavily into cosmic crossovers — Infinity Gauntlet, etc. — and Dr. Strange keeps tying into them, sacrificing any individual story for the larger mega-event. Thomas leaves with issue #47, and when scripter Len Kaminski replaces him the descent into mediocrity is complete. There are a couple of glimmers — in issue #60, a big crossover with the other Marvel occult titles like Morbius and Spirits of Vengeance (they’re all part of the group of books that Marvel marketed as the “Midnight Sons”) takes place, and Dr. Strange gets broken into three different beings; this story, by David Quinn and Melvin Rubi (at first), starts promisingly but then lasts through what seems forever, and sends Strange through so many makeovers and changes that the reader gets exhausted trying to keep it all straight. Points of note are issues #70-73, with art by Peter Gross; #75, by Mark Buckingham; #76, introducing a long-haired version of Strange by Gross that looks eerily like the older Tim from his Books of Magic series at DC Vertigo; #s 78 and 79, by Marie Severin; #80, featuring another new look for the character, this one written by Warren Ellis and drawn by Buckingham; #82, half by Buckingham and half by Gary Frank; and #s 84-90, drawn by Buckingham and with a story by J.M. DeMatteis — and that ends the series, in January 1996, and is the last time that Dr. Strange has had his own ongoing title.

That’s not to say that the character hasn’t been around, of course. There’ve been the occasional mini-series (J. Michael Straczynski and Brandon Peterson did the six-issue origin reboot Strange in 2004, while Mark Waid and Emma Rios contributed the four-issue Strange in 2010), and the Doctor has been a member of the Avengers (well, the New Avengers) during most of Brian Michael Bendis’s tenure on that book, as well as appearing in the current revival of The Defenders. Will audiences ever warm to him again? Sure: if comics history has proven anything, it’s that, with the right writer and the right artist, any character can rise from the comics graveyard. Given his past, the Master of the Mystic Arts is a better candidate than most.

Question for the Professor:

I have Marvel comics from the late ’70s thru the mid ’80s.  There are variations in the top left symbols and UPC (when UPCs were introduced). In my youthful exuberance I had both a subscription (brown wrapped comic) and went to the news stand, so I have two of the same in a number of cases, with different top left corner and UPC (UPC or, say, Spidey face) that seems to be the diff possibly. Could you shed some light? Is there really any diff regarding pricing/collectibility?

Well, Greg, there are actually a couple of things going on with cover variations: first, and earliest, in the mid-’70s Marvel test-marketed price increases (from 25 to 30 cents in 1976, and from 30 to 35 cents in 1977) in a few cities before instituting them nationwide, and so a couple of issues of the Marvel books have price variants; the rarer, “higher” prices go for about 2.5 times the “regular” prices. Those variants, though, apply only to the price; the rest of the cover, including the UPC box, remains the same.

Another variant comes from the “Whitman three-packs”: the Whitman company, which distributed Gold Key comics (that’s an oversimplification of a tangled corporate relationship I’m not going to get into here), contracted with Marvel in the late ’70s to market bagged sets of Marvel comics in places like K-Mart. Those came three to a bag, and can be distinguished by an altered upper-left box and a blank UPC code. Note the picture here of two copies of Thor #275, from September 1978: one issue is the “normal” copy, and the other is the so-called “Whitman variant.” The Whitman variants, when out of the bag, are usually the same price as the “normal” books, although unopened three-packs can go for more — roughly twice what the three books inside the bag would go for in their “regular” incarnations.

The biggest and most long-lived cover variant, though, came about because of the rise of comic book stores in the late ’70s. This “direct market” for comics developed a different wholesale arrangement with Marvel than the regular newsstand distributors did: the comic book stores got a bigger discount on the comics, but, unlike newsstand books, they weren’t “returnable”: owners couldn’t tear off the covers of unsold books and send them back in for credit. What sometimes happened, though, was that an unscrupulous comic store owner could sell his unsold books to a newsstand owner, who then could send the covers in for credit. To prevent this, Marvel, in the summer of 1979, starting putting slightly different covers on books sold to comic book stores. Look at Thor #285, from July 1979: the newsstand comic has the “regular” cover, while the comic book store issue has a slash through the UPC code, plus a partially-darkened upper-left price box. Copies of this cover were not returnable, while the “regular” covers were.

Over time, Marvel changed the ways the covers differed: by Thor #296 (June, 1980) the familiar Spidey logo appears in the comic store copies, while the newsstand copies have the UPC code. Other variations followed: for a while, each series had individualized icons (so Thor’s hammer was in the box on his books instead of the UPC code), and special issues sometimes played around with the box, too. Over time, however, as comics stores got bigger and wanted to track their inventory better, they wanted to be able to scan those UPC codes just like the newsstands. By the ’90s, Marvel had standardized the difference (and made it a lot more boring) by just using a “direct market” designation in the comic store copies, along with the same UPC code as in the newsstand variations.

Is there any difference in price? The Overstreet Price Guide has never noted one (arguing that the insides are identical, both covers are printed at the same time, and the differences are minor); in the 23 years I’ve worked at AABC, only two collectors have ever indicated a preference: one wanted only newsstand copies of his ’70s and ’80s books, and the other wanted only the direct-market copies. In terms of scarcity, at the beginning, in 1979, the direct market editions numbered a lot less than the newsstand copies, but by the ’90s that ratio had reversed: the direct market had practically taken over, and it was the newsstand books that were scarce; today, of course, those sales on most titles are almost nonexistent. AABC’s backstock tends to have a lot more of the direct copies (because that’s how we bought the books originally) than the newsstand ones (which have only come in through our buying collections from other people) — but, again, since no one seems to care, the prices have never been any different either.

Fatale

Fatale is the latest crime/noir book from the Brubaker/Phillips team; it’s distinguished from the various Criminal stories because it mixes in a fantasy/horror element. It’s also very well done; this first issue is a textbook example of how to set up an intriguing cast of characters: a damaged hero, a mysterious woman, shadowy pursuers, etc. Brubaker and Phillips, as always, make a smooth team — if you’re going to build a story around a woman who’s irresistible to men, you need an artist who can deliver that, and Phillips can do both sexy and hard-boiled with the best of them (he can do horror, too, as he demonstrated with Marvel Zombies, so Brubaker, like all good collaborators, has played to all of his strengths with this comic). Best book of the week.

Action Comics #5 — Writer: Grant Morrison;  Pencils: Andy Kubert;  Inks: Jesse Delperdang

This is mostly a flashback issue, showing the events on Krypton that led to the young Kal-El being rocketed to Earth, and setting up elements in current Superman continuity like the Phantom Zone, Krypto, the Kents, etc. (it’s also got a flash-forward scene, involving a mysterious group of villains and a familiar trio of time travelers, accompanied by an older Superman than we’ve seen in the book so far). It’s interesting that Morrison held off on this until the fifth issue of the new volume of Action, preferring to establish the young Superman in Metropolis first, but that was a good narrative choice: what happens in this comic  is complicated — Morrison complicated — and has a lot of insidery elements that wouldn’t have attracted the new readers picking up an earlier issue. As is, this isn’t satisfying as a stand-alone comic — too many plot features are unresolved — but it should work fine as part of the larger mega-story that Morrison is weaving here.

The Goon #37 — Writer/Artist: Eric Powell

Powell has such a wicked, over-the-top sense of humor (see: Satan’s Sodomy Baby) that it’s easy to think that’s all he has to offer, but not so: he’s a very careful, detailed artist, and he has a knack for horror. This issue of The Goon, which involves a thinly-fictionalized version of New York City’s Triangle Shirtwaist fire ( a sweatshop disaster that killed 146 workers in 1911, and led to the rise of workplace safety regulations) demonstrates something else, too: a sense of history, and an outraged anti-robber baron, pro-union stance worthy of a Wobbly. It’s passionate, well-researched, well-drawn, and still has the little quirks and funny bits that Goon readers expect: all in all, an impressive change of pace, and a useful reminder of Powell’s multifaceted talents.

Rachel Rising: Writer/Artist: Terry Moore

Four issues in, this might be a novel of demonic possession, but it definitely involves a woman who keeps dying and reviving, somehow, and a number of seemingly-innocent people doing very bad things (including a compelling little girl in bunny slippers). It’s very low on the mystical mumbo-jumbo, though: there’s a page or two of medical talk that indicate that Moore has worked this out just as well as the scientific quantum-mechanics stuff in Echo; that, and the typically-well-composed and pretty-looking (and spooky) art, continue to let readers know that they’re in very competent hands.

Defenders #2 — Writer: Matt Fraction;  Pencils: Terry Dodson;  Inks: Rachel Dodson

Fraction, as with most of his books, seems to be having fun here, and it’s infectious: there’s the cosmic storyline, involving an insane Prester John, a universe-sustaining “concordance engine,” and Nul, the Breaker of Worlds from the Fear Itself mini-series; there’s the Defenders team of Dr. Strange, Red She-Hulk, Silver Surfer, Iron Fist and Namor, bickering and interacting in lots of interesting ways (Strange’s method of turning She-Holk back into Betty Brant, and her reaction, are a good example, as is Iron Fist’s woozy reaction to John’s mental restraining methods); there’s even all the little ’70s-style blurbs at the bottom of each page, some of which are legitimate plugs for other books, and some of which seem to be making a meta-commentary on the events in this one. Altogether, there’s plenty to keep the reader entertained, so here’s hoping that this incarnation of Marvel’s lesser-known superhero team generates enough buzz for a long run.

Wolverine and the X-Men: Alpha and Omega #1 (of 5) — Writer: Brian Wood;  Art: Roland Boschi and Dan Brown; Mark Brooks with Andrew Currie, Jay Leisten, Norman Lee and Ronda Pattison

Wood’s more known for indy books like Demo or DMZ than for superheroes (although Demo had elements of fantasy, and its many characters sometimes had small, offbeat powers), so this mini-series offers a change of pace for him. It’s Quentin Quire trapping Wolverine and Armor in a futuristic, Blade Runner-esque videogame landscape in their minds, just to be a jerk. The art’s just OK, but having different teams handle the “real” and the fantasy scenes is a smart idea, and the setup is intriguing enough to bring readers back for another issue, at least.

Uncanny X-Men #4 — Writer: Kieron Gillen;  Art: Brandon Peterson

A tale told from the point of view of the last surviving bit of the old Phalanx (the alien hive intelligence that made everyone and everything it touched into metallic, zombie-like parts of its whole), as it makes inadvertently-murderous attempts to survive on Earth, contact the rest of its race in outer space, and avoid the X-Men. If every issue was like this, readers would miss the typical soap-opera subplots and character interaction, but for one issue, its antagonist’s-perspective narration is an effective break from the book’s regular proceedings.

Avengers Annual #1 — Writer: Brian Michael Bendis;  Art: Gabrielle Dell’otto

The second part of the story begun in last summer’s New Avengers Annual, as Wonder Man, somehow convinced that the Avengers are a fraud that cause more damage than they prevent, has pulled together a team of C-listers to defeat them. It’s more of a collection of character bits and battle scenes than an actual story — there’s no overall beginning-and-ending narrative structure, despite its 32 pages; instead, things happen and then stop, to be resolved in later books — but since the art’s relatively cool-looking and the writer’s been the primary architect of the Avengers books for the last five years, regular readers probably won’t mind.

O.M.A.C. #5 — Creators: Dan Didio, Jeff Lemire and Keith Giffen

Lemire’s on board because most of the issue is a slam-bang battle between his Frankenstein, Agent of S.H.A.D.E. title character and O.M.A.C. (two characters with a lot of acronym periods between them…). As with all the issues of this book so far, it’s worth reading because of the Kirby-esque artwork by Giffen (with coloring by “Hi-Fi,” and sound-effects lettering by Travis Lanham, that complement the tribute, and enhance the general energy level, enough to deserve special mention here).

The Boys #62 — Writer: Garth Ennis; Art: Russ Braun

After over five years, the end’s in sight for this part-parody, part-romance and all-extreme superhero series. Credit to Ennis for making it unpredictable: while most of the minor characters are cartoons, the major ones — both good and bad — are complicated enough, with their various strengths and weaknesses, to make the book’s ultimate outcome hard to call. That refusal to take the easy narrative path has helped to keep readers hooked (the violence and sex alone aren’t enough; just ask all those terrible zombie books from Avatar), and if Ennis can pull off a satisfying conclusion in a few issues, this will be a worthy companion to his earlier Preacher.

Doom Patrol

The original version of DC’s “World’s Strangest Heroes” ran from 1964 to 1968, and featured three characters who were outcasts: race-car driver Cliff Steele, whose body was destroyed in a wreck but whose brain was transferred into a metal body, making him Robotman; Rita Farr, whose stretching powers made her Elasti-Girl; and Larry Trainor, whose radioactive body required that he be wrapped in bandages for the protection  of others, but who had the ability to project a flying, negative-image “energy being” out of his body (but only for a few minutes at a time; otherwise, he’s die). The three were led by the wheelchair-bound Niles Caulder, a brilliant scientist who took the bitter misfits and molded them into a superhero team. In one of those weird coincidences in comics history, the book first appeared about three months before X-Men #1, which also featured outcasts led by a brilliant guy in a wheelchair. The Doom Patrol was cancelled in 1968, in what was then, for comics, an unusual way: the team died in the last issue, blown up by bad guys.

The next incarnation of the series (and the first one that matters to us, since they’re the first ones we have discount issues of) appeared in 1987. It was revealed that only Robotman had survived the explosion (although, comics being comics, over the years the other three characters have all turned up, too), and he was paired with new characters Tempest (who could project energy blasts from his hands, one of those visual-but-generic powers that comics creators love), Negative Woman (a Russian astronaut who’d encountered the negative energy being that had been in Larry Trainor, and absorbed it), Celsius (heat and cold blasts, plus she was the wife of the presumed-dead Niles Caulder, and the reason the new team got together), Lodestone (magnetically-enhanced strength), Karma (psychic defensive powers) and Scott Fischer (heat projection from his hands). This team hung around for the first 18 issues of Doom Patrol volume 2, written by Paul Kupperberg and drawn, first, by Steve Lightle and later by a young Erik Larson. The episodes are mostly generic mid-’80s superhero storytelling, and largely forgettable (at least, I forgot most of them; I read the issues when they came out, but needed Wikipedia and a quick flip-through of the comics to recall any of it).

However, with issue #19, in 1988, things suddenly became more memorable: new writer Grant Morrison took over, accompanied by artist Richard Case, and they immediately supercharged the book. Morrison got rid of all the characters except for Cliff (Tempest stuck around as the team doctor, the Negative Being left its host and ended up being Larry Trainor again (sort of — don’t ask), and Lodestone was in a coma; everyone else was either dead or wandered off, never to return), and added two others: Dorothy, a simian-featured little girl with “imaginary friends” whom she could control, and Kay Challis, called “Crazy Jane,” a traumatized woman with 64 multiple personalities, each with a different superpower.

Comics fans are used to the Morrison brand of weirdness now, but 23 years ago it was brand-new, and a revelation after the standard antics of the previous team: there were the Scissormen, who could cut people out of reality; Red Jack, who tortured butterflies to survive and thought he claimed to be the reincarnation of Jack the Ripper; the Brotherhood of Dada, who were led by Mister Nobody, featured The Quiz, who had “every superpower you haven’t thought of yet,” and had a magical painting that led to dimensions based on types of artistic criticism — and that was all in the first year! That year ended with one of the best single issues of the series — Doom Patrol #30, wherein Cliff travels into the mind of Crazy Jane, who’s catatonic, and meets most of her personalities, while discovering what fractured her personality in the first place. It’s a haunting tale, told cleverly and subtly, and with images — Jane’s mind as a subway station and her personalities as different stops; Cliff, told that “no man” can enter a particular stop, standing and spreading his robotic hands and saying “Look at me. I’m not a man” — that linger long after the reader is through with the book.

Morrison stayed on the book through issue #63, mostly accompanied by Case (with a few exceptions — Kelley Jones in #36, for example, and Mike Dringenberg in #42, cover-featuring “Flex Mentallo,” a character based on the strongman in the old Charles Atlas ads that ended up getting DC sued by Atlas himself); special mention should also be made of the painted covers, often by Simon Bisely, starting with issue #26, which gave the book a distinctive identity on the comics racks. Almost every issue’s worth reading — and completists shouldn’t miss 1992′s Doom Force Special, a one-shot by Morrison and a number of artists that’s a satiric, vicious takedown of Image comics in general, and Rob Liefeld in particular — all the way up to the last book of the Morrison era, #63, wherein Crazy Jane is trapped in “our” world, institutionalized and subjected to electroshock therapy, leading to a poignant, perfect ending, half-optimistic and half-despairing (depending on whether you’re Jane or the reader).

Morrison’s departure wasn’t the end of Doom Patrol, though — writer Rachel Pollack took over with issue #64, and managed to keep the weirdeness percolating nicely, if not quite with the spice supplied by Morrison. Case stayed as artist for four issues, replaced by some interesting choices thereafter: Linda Medley (of Castle Waiting) in issues #68-74, and Ted McKeever in #s 75-79, 81, 82 and 84-87 (with the Pander Brothers in #80), which represented the end of the run.

The next version of Doom Patrol came along in 2001; as with the previous version, its only connection with the others was Cliff Steele. The writer was John Arcudi (known for Dark Horse series like The Mask and a number of Mike Mignola-related titles), while the artist was Tan Eng Huat, who brought a quirky, cartoony style that meshed well with Arcudi’s tongue-in-cheek, arch scripts (in this incarnation, Cliff was the mentor to a group of teen and twenty-something outcasts who bicker and bond like an MTV Real Worlds season). Arcudi and Huat stayed for all 22 issues of this volume, with two notable exceptions: #s 13 and 14 are by Seth Fisher (the idiosynchratic artist known for his obsessively-detailed, oddly-appealing manga-esque style (Fantastic Four: Big in Japan; Flash: Time Flies and Vertigo Pop: Tokyo), who died at the age of 33 in 2006 after falling from the rooftop of a nightclub in Tokyo), and issues # 20 and 21 are by Rick Geary, known mostly for his small-press titles focusing on true-life murder stories and on Victorian life.

Volume four of Doom Patrol followed very quickly, in 2004, and was a John Byrne production. It started strongly (it was led into by a vastly-hyped, six-part JLA crossover by Byrne and Chris Claremont), but was a reboot, erasing all the previous history of the team and starting over with the original cast of Robotman, Negative Man and Elasti-Girl. It had the typical Byrne advantages of clean, lively art and plotting, but quickly gradually lost both steam and sales, ending after 18 issues.

The most recent comic called Doom Patrol, volume five, started in 2009 and ended last July, after 22 issues; it had scripts by Keith Giffen and featured the three original members, although there were callbacks to previous versions of the team too — issues 3 and 4 are Blackest Night tie-ins, and feature the dead, Black Lantern-animated characters of Celsius, Negative Woman and Tempest, while issue #5 has the Negative Spirit reflecting on its previous host bodies, and has cameos from practically everyone who was ever in a Doom Patrol comic. Matthew Clark and Ron Randall supply most of the art for the run, although Giffen himself draws #16. Issue #19 has the second installment of a crossover with the Secret Six comic, and the final issue, #22, has a typically-Giffenesque ending, as Ambush Bug appears, to whisper to the bad guys that the book has been cancelled, pending the DC Flashpoint reboot; that said, everybody strikes the set and walks away, leaving the heroes to wonder what’s going to happen next. That’s where they are today — is there a place in the new DCU for the World’s Strangest Heroes, especially considering that their history is, again, set back to square one, and that they’ve had three failed relaunches in the last ten years? Only time, and reader interest, will tell….

Fables

In a week that’s a holiday gift to readers — after what’s turned into a great year for comics, there were at least a dozen noteworthy ones just this Wednesday — Fables gets first position this week because it’s a Christmas story, of sorts. While we check in with most of the current subplots (but not the one involving Bufkin, Willingham leaving his fate, literally, hanging), the main thread involves Rose Red and a story about hope, taking its structure from A Christmas Carol and featuring Santa Claus and the Little Match Girl, among others. After almost ten years, this continues to be one of the best-told and best-looking serial stories out there, and if you’re still one of those fans who’s never read it this would make a great gift to yourself, as a taste of what you’ve been missing.

Dark Horse Presents #7 — Various Creators

I’ve sung the praises of this book quite a bit — and, just this week, covered its earlier ’80s-’90s incarnation in It Came From the Back Room — but this issue outdoes itself: Usagi Yojimbo by Stan Sakai; Hellboy by Mike Mignola; Skeleton Key by Andi Watson; Finder by Carla Speed McNeil; chapters of serials by Neal Adams and Howard Chaykin; a new story by Brandon Graham (of King City critical praise); and three other tales. It’s a Christmas stocking with ten great gifts in it, all on glossy paper and with coloring that makes the stories gleam and pop, and at $7.99 it continues to be the best bargain in the store.

Daredevil #7 — Writer: Mark Waid;  Pencils: Paolo Rivera;  Inks: Joe Rivera

This is a Christmas story, too, a one-shot episode that’s a little corny (a bus full of blind kids that overturns far out in the country during a blizzard), but perfect for the season, and heart-warming and entertaining in equal measure. Check out that cover, too: a perfect summary of the unexpected joys of this book, both visually and conceptually, and proof that, with Waid and Rivera, it continues to be in very competent hands.

PunisherMax #20 — Writer: Jason Aaron;  Art: Steve Dillon

Wolverine and the X-Men #3 — Writer: Jason Aaron; Pencils: Chris Bachalo, Duncan Rouleau and Matteo Scalera; Inks: seven different guys

Wolverine #20 — Writer: Jason Aaron;  Pencils: Renato Guedes;  Inks: Jose Wilson Magalhaes

Three by Aaron this week, all worth reading: PunisherMax features a long and brutal battle between Castle and Elektra, as his two-year-long encounter with the Kingpin is winding down, in predictably bloody fashion, and signaling the end of both their fight and the book itself; the Dillon art makes it the best of the pack. Wolverine and the X-Men isn’t far behind, though — the Bachalo art would have made it the best, except that, as you can see from the credits, he got a lot of help, and the inconsistency sometimes shows; however, this has the best story, as it concludes the title’s first arc with the wry humor and dynamic, intriguing cast of characters that’s quickly turned it into the most fun of all the X-books. Wolverine is the least of the three, having the most pedestrian art, but it still delivers Wolverine, now in New York City, vs. the Kingpin vs. the Yakuza, with mutant cannibal hillbillies and Logan’s juggling of three current and former romantic interests helping to spice up the mix. At this point, Aaron’s one of the top three go-to writers at Marvel (Matt Fraction and Bendis being the others), and his knack for combining fun, drama, comedy and adventure may make him the best.

Iron Man #511 — Writer: Matt Fraction;  Art: Salvador Larroca

Speaking of Fraction… we’re early in a new serial, as the Mandarin continues to turn the screws (via the Living Laser and Obadiah Stark, among others), but watching Tony facing various perils, and checking in with the varied and well-drawn cast members (Pepper and Bethany Cabe have the best encounter here, although Splitlip the dwarf (er… dark elf) is going to be a scene stealer) gives the reader plenty of reasons to keep buying this book.

Avengers #20 — Writer: Brian Michael Bendis;  Art: Daniel Acuna

Ultimate Comics Spider-Man #5 — Writer: Brian Michael Bendis;  Layouts: Sara Pichelli; Finishes: David Messina

And speaking of Bendis… Avengers sees the team splitting into groups to go hunt Norman Osborn, with predictably bad results (it being still early in the story), and three separate cliffhangers; it’s fine but pretty standard, especially if you’ve been following the title for the last five or six years of the Bendis era. Ultimate Spider-Man seems more enthusiastic and less been-there-done-that, as it’s devoted to Miles and his first encounters with Spider-Woman, Nick Fury and Elektro; Pichelli doing only layouts makes the visual appeal less than when she’s doing the full pencils, but it’s still a good-looking book, especially in the fight scenes.

Sergio Aragones Funnies #6 — Writer/Artist: Neal Adams

No, of course not really… it’s the usual combination of gags, longer Plop-like stories, autobiography, and games from Aragones, and the only reason it’s not higher on this list is because I’ve already praised it so much in earlier posts: suffice it to say, though, that the art continues to be wonderful, and that you’re missing a lot of good storytelling if you’re not getting this book.

Justice League #4 — Writer: Geoff Johns;  Pencils: Jim Lee; Inks: Scott Williams

Aquaman and a fully-formed Cyborg enter the mix — meaning that for the first time the full team from the cover of issue #1 is together —  and the big bad guy is revealed on the last page. Four full issues in, that’s not exactly compressed storytelling, but this book knows exactly what it’s doing, and it’s going to be a perennial best-seller as a trade, and I’d tell you to buy it, but, really, right now who isn’t?

Deadpool Max 2 #3 — Writer: David Lapham;  Aret: Shawn Crystal

Kyle Baker not drawing this book makes it a throwaway, although it’s almost worth it for that cover: brownie points to the first person who writes in with the title and issue number of the book that it’s… well, “parodying” isn’t the right word — maybe just “echoing”?

Amazing Spider-Man #676 — Writer: Dan Slott;  Pencils: Humberto Ramos;  Inks: Victor Olazaba

No actual appearances by the Wallcrawler — or even Peter Parker — in this issue, as the Sinister Six (with the Rhino and the Chameleon subbing for original members Vulture and Kraven) take on the Intelligencia (that’s the brainy-villain group from The Hulk, consisting of M.O.D.O.K., Red Ghost, Mad Thinker, Wizard and Klaw), as a taste of what’s to come in 2012 for the Spidey-verse. Ramos and Slott make this as dependably entertaining as ever, and in a normal week this would have been a lot higher on the list — but, as I said at the beginning, it was an awesome week for comics, a fitting almost-end to a good year in graphic storytelling. Merry Christmas, everyone!

Dark Horse Comics/Dark Horse Presents

Of these two anthologies, Presents is both the earliest and the longest-lived; it ran 157 issues between 1986 and 2000 (and just started a well-received second volume this year), as compared to Dark Horse Comics’ 24 issues between 1992 and 1994. Both series had the same format: three 8-10 pages installments of various serials each issue; the difference was that Comics was in color, and so higher-priced than the black-and-white Presents. Presents can be quite a find, though, depending on the issue: there are a lot of now-forgotten but very cool comics between its pages. For example, many early numbers have Paul Chadwick’s Concrete, a tale of a regular guy who becomes trapped in a bulky, rock-like alien body; they’re well-crafted, smart one-shot tales. Issues from #10-21 have Mark Badger’s Masque, which eventually became The Mask, and one of Dark Horse’s hottest characters. Later issues can yield a variety of buried treasure, especially because so many of the best indy creators from the ’80s and ’90s show up at some point in the series’s run: Eddy Campbell’s Bacchus is there, as is Mike Mignola’s Hellboy, Frank Miller’s Sin City, Art Adams’s Monkeyman and O’Brien, Adam Warren’s Dirty Pair, John Byrne’s Next Men, and a host of others; on top of that, many of Dark Horse’s licensed properties — Aliens and Predators, especially, and later even Buffy the Vampire Slayer – put on appearances. There are occasional giant-size issues and annuals, too, and they’re also worth searching out — the ’97 annual has Jason Person’s Body Bags, a tale of a bounty hunter and his bloodthirsty, pint-sized daughter that’s a lot of nasty fun, while the ’99 annual has a Sergio Aragones Groo story, and the 2000 one has another Buffy TVS story. Dark Horse Comics mines the licensed stuff even more: almost every issue has a couple of movie tie-ins, from the ubiquitous Aliens and Predators through Robocop, Time Cop, the Thing from Another World, James Bond and various Droids, Jedis and other Star Wars characters. With cover prices for DHP ranging from $1.75 to $2.50 (DHC is all at $2.50), there’s plenty of rewarding reading available to comics fans (and, while not all issues are available on the discount racks, they’re now stocked in the regular back-issue boxes, for the first time in about five years, and will stay there through AABC’s New Years’ Day sale, when they’ll be at a discount, too).

Dawn

Joseph Michael Linsner’s triple-teardrop-tattooed title character has developed quite a cult following since her first appearance in 1989, thanks to his flair for pinup poses; I’ve never quite seen the attraction, myself, because while the pinups are undeniably sexy, his storytelling is too often stiffly posed and hard to follow (and, as for his writing… did I mention that his pinup art was good?). Anyway, the discount racks have many of the character’s eponymous 1995 6-issue series, as well as the Return of the Goddess mini-series that came a few years later; if you want to relive one of the better ’90s Good Girl Art comics, here it is.

Deity

This is another ’90s girl book, published by Hyperwerks, one of the many companies that were trying to follow in Image’s then-still-fresh footsteps. It was hot for a bit, but has fallen considerably since then (it isn’t even listed in the Overstreet Price Guide, which is more an indictment of Overstreet’s carelessness than of the book’s quality); however, here it is, resurrected for your nostalgiac appreciation.

Den

This is Richard Corben’s semi-underground, Heavy Metal character, published in 1988 in then-new adventures, in color. If you know Corben’s work only from his recent Hellboy stuff (or his Lovecraft adaptations for Marvel), then this is worth checking out: fairly standard sword-and-sorcery fantasy stuff, but elevated by Corben’s unique airbrushing technique, and his technical and anatomical virtuosity. Fans of Frank Frazetta-ish art and story should definitely check these out.

Dirty Pair

Adam Warren’s fun, sexy, technologically-savvy and very fast-moving sf/bounty hunter/anime book had six or seven mini-series from the late ’80s up to around 2000. If you know Warren’s work from his own Empowered, or from his various Marvel mini-series, or from his stint wrapping up the first Gen-13 series, then you’ll probably want these books; there are just enough of them on the discount racks to give a taste of how good they are, but there’s now a complete set out in the regular back-issue boxes, so check there to fill in any gaps: once you’ve read one or two of these, you’ll be hooked enough to want the rest.

A Distant Soil

Colleen Doran’s long-running fantasy series has been through a number of incarnations and publishers; like Dave Sim and Wendy and Richard Pini, Doran was one of the earliest supporters of creator-owned comics, and her solidly-grounded, romantic adventure tales have created a decent following. Check a few of these out, and then look for her online to see most of her current work — she’sbeen a webcomics pioneer for the last ten years or so, too.

DNAgents

Writer Mark Evanier’s ’80s teen super-group is another good example of a creator-owned work. It’s straight-down-the-middle storytelling, with the same soap-opera subplots and alienation themes (the characters, “grown” and programmed through genetic engineering, are considered less than human by the rest of the population) that made the X-Men and the Teen Titans so successful in the same decade. It’s not at their level, of course, but it’s sturdily constructed, and worth a look for the $1 each that the books are going for today.

The Defenders

This is Marvel’s latest attempt to revive this franchise, a best-seller in the ’70s and ’80s but not particularly successful since then, and Fraction’s using leftover plotlines from Fear Itself to do it (specifically, the Nul character who possessed the Hulk, now loose in our world and threatening to break the universe). The core group of Dr. Strange, Silver Surfer and Namor are there, with the Red She-Hulk substituting for Bruce Banner, and Iron Fist thrown in (presumably because Fraction likes writing him). As with Iron Man and Thor, Fraction provides smart, offbeat character stuff, an interesting menace, and enough cool hooks to bring readers back; add in the Dodson art, and maybe this version of Marvel’s non-team team book (their tagline this time: “Protecting humanity from the impossible!”) might just have a chance.

Hellblazer Annual 2011 — Writer: Peter Milligan;  Art: Simon Bisley

The Bisley/Milligan team has been providing some moody, high-quality horror stories on the regular Hellblazer book over the last few years (thanks especially to Milligan’s feel for the character, and the way the art’s shot straight from Bisley’s wonderfully-caricatured, lushly-delineated panels), and this 38-page story, about a bridge that lures suicides, showcases their talented teamwork well.

Animal Man #4 — Writer: Jeff Lemire;  Art: Travel Foreman

Sweet Tooth #28 — Writer: Jeff Lemire;  Art: Matt Kindt

Two by Lemire: Animal Man has been one of the critical favorites of the DC New 52, and Foreman’s imaginative art — especially in the otherworldly sequences, or when dealing with the shapeshifting monsters that have been tracking Buddy’s family — has been a big part of it. So, too, has Lemire’s knack for making all the members of the Baker family sympathetic and intriguing (next to Maxine, Cliff and Ellen, Buddy’s often threatened with being only the fourth most interesting character in his own book), and for coming up with last-page cliffhangers that emphasize the book’s horror aspirations, and guarentee that readers will keep coming back for more. Sweet Tooth has been more of an individual vision, since Lemire has been both writing and drawing it — but the last three issues, concluding with the current one, have had guest art from Matt Kindt. Featuring a flashback set in the Arctic of the early 1900s, they’ve revealed parts of the origins of the book’s dystopian future, and are notable because of Kindt’s style, which uses watercolors and sketchy pencils to create a dreamlike, fairy-tale mood that’s unlike anything else in mainstream comics.

Action Comics #4 — Writer: Grant Morrison;  Penciller: Rags Morales;  Inkers: Rick Bryant and Sean Parsons

We’re smack in the middle of a storyline — a Morrison storyline — so there’s a lot going on (Brainiac, Steel, rampaging robots, bottled cities, etc., etc.), and no resolution yet, and no longer even the pleasure of exploring the personality of the “new” Superman (who doesn’t get all that much screen time in this issue). It’s well done for all that, and fine as a chapter in a larger story — but it’s too bad that Morrison couldn’t have made this more satisfying as a stand-alone story, too (something he was largely able to pull off in his earlier All-Star Superman, which had a similar overarching story, but managed to make the individual parts work independently, too).

Moon Knight #8 — Writer: Brian Michael Bendis;  Art: Alex Maleev

I like this book; it would seem like too much of a quick, deconstructed read, but Maleev’s art slows the reader’s eye down, to linger on many of the little facial effects and small filagrees of panel composition, so that each page seems worth absorbing slowly (Matt Hollingsworth’s color art effects contribute considerably to this, too). Add in the Moon Knight/Echo relationship, the way the two leads are vastly outweighed by the powers of their adversary, and Spector’s running inner-multiple-personality monologue (tetralogue?), and there’s plenty here to justify a reader’s continued attention.

Omac #4 — Writers: Dan Didio and Keith Giffen;  Penciller: Keith Giffen;  Inker: Scott Koblish

This continues to be a rollicking tribute to all things Kirby (and The King gets a nod in the credits, too); as long as Giffen stays on as co-writer and penciller (Scott Koblish, the inker, is doing full art on issue #6, but Giffen says that doesn’t mean he’s going anywhere), I’ll keep reading it, to marvel at the pretty colors, the craggy features, and the way that Max Lord, Makarri, Brother Eye, pre-fab women, and all the other ingredients coalesce into a tasty Kirby-tribute stew.

Deadpool Max-Mas #1 — Writer: David Lapham;  Artists: David Lapham; Kyle Baker; Shawn Crystal

Followers of the regular Lapham/Baker Deadpool Max series will want this — Lapham and Baker each supply art to a third of the book, with Lapham writing the whole thing, and it’s their typical tale of Wade and Bob the Terrorist acting like Looney-Tune characters in a slightly-skewed Marvel universe, except this time with tinsel and Santa Clause hats added, in honor of the season.

The Boys #61 — Writer: Garth Ennis;  Art: Russ Braun

This book’s edging closer to its (presumably apocalyptic) conclusion, and I like the way Ennis’s characters are tending against type: Annie, the naive one at the beginning of the story, has strengthened, while Hughie is frustratingly stalled out, unable to progress in their romance. Will he grow a pair? Will they find true love? Will it matter if the world’s been cracked in half? Mix in the Teen Titans parody, the Image-group parody, and the last-page reaction shot (where each character’s personality is revealed, neatly and silently, in their response to an upcoming fight), and it’s easy to see why Ennis has built such a following as one of the best pop-comics writers of his generation.