A Peek Inside Brian Bendis’ Thought Balloons

BEHIND MOST “OVERNIGHT SENSATIONS,” you’ll find years worth of work created outside of the spotlight. Brian Michael Bendis’ career has been one of these, as the writer and artist of crime fiction like Fire, Goldish and Jinx, as well as the true crime graphic novel, Torso. More recently, Bendis has distinguished himself as the founder of Marvel’s “Ultimate” universe and one of the architects of its main publishing line, maintaining a unique approach to scripting comics while anchoring some of Marvel’s biggest books, such as New Avengers and Secret Invasion. He’s kept his hand in creator-owned work with Powers, the crime fiction/superhero book he publishes through Mavel’s ICON line with artist Michael Avon Oeming. Bendis has also proven a sharp commentator on popular culture and a witty author of autobiography with books like Fortune & Glory, which was my first exposure to his work.

I caught up with Bendis at Portland’s Stumptown Comics Fest on April 27th, 2008, where we discussed experimentation in mainstream comics, writing video game adaptations of comics and comics adaptations of video games, the themes of his many series, various reactions to his work, and more. And, in two hours of talking, not one mention of Skrulls.

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Wright Opinion: To start with, a lot of your pre-Marvel work was very experimental in the art and writing, and it seems that as a superhero writer you’ve brought that with you more than we often see. Do you consider yourself to be an experimental writer?

Brian Michael Bendis: Yes in the sense that we want to try new things. I’m a fan of any kind of storytelling that’s just trying new stuff. Even if you try too hard and fall on your ass, I’d rather do that then not try anything, alright? You think of Howard Chaykin or Matt Wagner, who just has ideas that look almost too big for the page, or sees the page in different shapes than other people do. And that’s what I’ve been inspired by and want to see. And every once in awhile you come up with a real, “Aw, no one’s thought of that!”

And at the same time, as I’ve gotten older, I’ve learned that sometimes it’s more clever just to tell the story more clearly. Sometimes in the exuberance of youth you try stuff where you’re subconsciously trying to cover up something you think is bullshit in the story When I was younger, and this is dating myself, but before computers, a lot of black and white artists used zipatone, which was a sticker that you would put on the art that had black and white patterns, that printed clearly as line art. And a lot of my friends––and maybe a little bit me, too, when I was younger––were using that because the drawing was bad, the drawing was inferior. So you put stickers all over it and it would look better.

And sometimes experimentation, if it doesn’t further the story or help the storytelling, it’s a failure. So I really try to think, “I have this great idea to make everything look like stick figures or tell the story backwards”––I do a lot of time jumps––and I go, “Okay, does that help the story, or am I just being clever to be clever?”

Post-Stumptown Short: DAR #2

DAR: A Super Girly Top Secret Diary Comic #2 By Erika Moen minicomic, $4

AFTER SUPERHEROES, autobiography is probably the second most common genre in comics. I suspect the reason is some combination of the fact that a single artist can make a comic themselves––the way they can’t a film or a play––and the way that the pick-up readability of comics makes short autobiographical stories more inviting than prose that reads like someone’s diary. In any event, there are a lot of them, and we’ve all read a lot of them, so a successful one needs something to set it apart.

DAR: A Super Girly Top Secret Comic Diary has that in Erika Moen’s exuberant tone. I picked it up at Stumptown, after Moen called me over to her table to learn to make an origami star. Remembering that it had won three Trophy Awards the night before, I bought one, enchanted by the cover image of Moen grinning and ready to take on the world astride a Segway. I can’t remember the last time I read an autobiographical comic in which it looked like the artist had this much fun drawing it. The insides are filled with wide smiles, broad gestures and tons of exclamation points.

Moen’s art style is loose and cartoony, her people outlined in thick, smooth lines, with simple, appealing faces. It’s not entirely consistent and the digital tones suffer from the photocopying, but it’s clear and a perusal of darcomic.com (where the strips printed here first appeared) shows that Moen is steadily improving. Each page is a self-contained comic strip, and they cover a lot of ground, ranging from cooking mishaps to flights of fancy on the unstoppable power of Segway cops to mildly dirty fare, but all with a tremendous sense of fun about it.

Another nice touch is the inclusion of “making of” material––photo reference, backgrounds shown without the main characters obscuring them––which is rare for a handmade mini-comic. Comics can be made any number of ways, and webcomics tend to employ different techniques than print comics, so a few pages providing insight into the digital assembly of the strip is a welcome addition.

I’ve added DAR to my list of bookmarked webcomics and highly recommend seeking out the print edition. It’s a fun read and Moen shows potential to eventually fulfill the dream of being a professional cartoonist that she chronicles in its pages.

And then there was Stumptown 2008

WHEW! THREE OF THOSE IN THREE WEEKENDS. Still, if I had to finish up with one of them, Stumptown’s the one, as it affirmatively answers the age-old question: “Can a con be big enough to sum up a local scene and attract top flight out-of-town talent while staying mellow?”

The floor was definitely busier than last year, but it didn’t overtax the Lloyd Center Doubletree’s Exhibit Hall. It was one of the nicest weekends in Portland so far this year, and sunlight poured in through the windows that ran the length of one side of the room. The whole affair had a friendly vibe, from the people manning the admissions table, where I picked up my volunteer badge (full disclosure), to the exhibitors who called passersby over to see their books, to the few scattered retailers, who gave warm hellos and mingled.

Craig Thompson

Most tables had a steady stream of visitors, but never seemed overly crowded––the only significant line I stood in all weekend was for Craig Thompson’s brief signing after his spotlight panel on Saturday. Headlining guests always had people at their tables, but had plenty of time to chat with each visitor.

Kirby Continued Part 3

AS I SAVOR Jack Kirby’s Fourth World Omnibus vol. 4, which concludes Kirby’s original saga, I am continuing my look at some of the many followups to it DC Comics has produced. Here’s the third installment in the series:

Orion: The Gates of Apokolips By Walter Simonson and various DC Comics – softcover, $12.95

Unlike the previous two installments, which featured a Jimmy Olson tribute and a sitcom approach to Mister Miracle, respectively, Walter Simonson’s Orion is a direct continuation of the New Gods storyline. The Gates of Apokolips collects the first five issues of the series, which ran for two years. The story is explicitly reminiscent of the original, as Darkseid returns to Earth looking for the Anti-Life Equation, “the outside control of all living thought,” and Orion follows to confront him.

 
In tone, Gates of Apokolips feels like the “‘90s Vertigo” New Gods, opening on a rural American town possessed by the Anti-Life equation and preying on travelers. The chapter titles are even lines from “America the Beautiful,” recalling the many “dark side of America” stories to come out of the imprint during that decade. (The color scheme, a not-entirely-appropriate palette of washed-out earth tones and cool tones, also looks Vertigoesque.)
 
Gates of Apokolips is made up of an interesting mix of elements. On one hand, it is more straightforward and plot-driven than Kirby’s original New Gods, focusing less on big symbolic moments than on intrigue and double-crosses. On the other hand, it is in some ways more similar to classical Greek myth, with husband and wife gods plotting against each other, and questions of paternity (The Greek gods spent far more time cuckolding each other than being involved in adventures).
 
The mythic tone is enhanced by the inclusion of backup “Tales of the New Gods,” most notably “Nativity,” depicting Orion’s birth and “Goodness and Mercy,” filling in Granny Goodness’s early years. Such stories could easily feel redundant, but Simonson and, in the case of “Nativity,” Frank Miller on art, bring the kind of big moments and epic proclamations that add weight to the main narrative. Once Orion is born, a midwife whispers, “Milady… your son. He is trembling… in fear.” “No,” Orion’s mother, Tigra, replies. “In fury.” It’s dialogue that would sound over-the-top coming from mortals, but the setting and characters are big enough to match them. Just as significant as Orion’s birth, “Nativity” reveals the origin of the prophesy pitting Orion against his father, as Tigra declares, “Thus will Darkseid forge the tool of his own destruction.” Miller’s intense, high contrast art is a perfect match for the material and his depiction of Orion’s birth through Tigra’s changing shadow against a wall is masterful.
 
Other backup stories take us away from Orion to fill in what other characters, such as Lightray, are doing during the main story. The format is effective, though some editorial hand-holding crops up when a caption follows some of Lightray’s dialogue with “Details in next story.”
 
As the story unfolds, we’re reintroduced to one of Orion’s original Earth allies, Dave Lincoln, as well as Police Sergeant Turpin, and even the Newsboy Legion. Whenever the New Gods are revived, the impetus seems to be to include as much of the extended cast as possible, be it Funky Flashman in the 1980s Mister Miracle, Simyan and Mokkari in “The American Evolution,” or Billion Dollar Bates––whose cloned brain is channeling the fragments of the Anti-Life Equation found in hundreds of humans’ minds to simulate access to the complete equation––in Gates of Apokolips. The odd thing here is that most of the long-untouched characters who show up do so simply to serve as spectators to the action, with Orion and Darkseid the story’s only real prime movers. They become literal spectators in the fifth chapter, which consists of a sustained battle between the two. Several returning human characters are also too blasé about the presence of gods among them, making the story a bit more pedestrian than it would otherwise be.

 
Not at all pedestrian is Simonson’s art in the main stories. Sketchy and blocky, it’s an acquired taste, no doubt, but Simonson is in good form here. He makes no effort to emulate Kirby’s figures or compositions, but he achieves the necessary power to carry the New Gods. His pages are smartly designed and exciting, especially in the issue five battle between Orion and Darkseid. Large sound effects highlight the scope of the action, and add visual interest through their clever integration into panel compositions.
 
As a continuation of The New Gods, Orion is flawed, but smart and entertaining, among the better Fourth World followups. It has an appropriately epic flavor, even if the plotting tends more toward intrigue than grand gestures and symbolism. An incomplete story, it’s hard to tell exactly where it’s going; I assume that the aftermath of Darkseid’s defeat and the question of whether he is really Orion’s father are resolved in later chapters. I would be happy to see the rest of the series collected, and it’s a shame that hasn’t happened.

More:

Kirby Continued part 1

Kirby Continued part 2

View From Portland New York: NYCC

JUST BACK FROM NEW YORK. I didn’t have a computer with me, so no play-by-play updates, and now that it’s already Wednesday, many others have already covered the NY Comic Con pretty well. So, instead of re-treading that ground, a few personal observations on my first out-of-state con experience.

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Fan Culture

Unlike what I’ve heard about other cons, the convention floor was devoted mostly to comics. Movie-related events were largely tied closely to comics, such as the cast of Hellboy 2 appearing at the Dark Horse booth, and DC and Marvel movie events taking place at their respective booths. There was certainly a video game presence, but it was fairly unobtrusive. There were of course people dressed as any fandom-related thing you could imagine: superheroes, anime characters, Mario Bros. and other video game characters, etc. I was surprised at the number of Ghostbusters and the relative lack of Indiana Joneses, though there was at least one.

An institutional presence of non-comics material was more apparent in the panel area. On my way into the Scott McCloud Zot! panel, I had to cut across a throng of fans lined up for the Avatar: The Last Airbender (Nickelodeon) panel. The room housing the Zot! panel was about half-full of appreciative but reserved fans, while across the partition, we could hear frequent waves of screams from the capacity crowd in the Avatar panel. On my way out, an equally large line had formed for the Venture Brothers panel (I’ve subsequently read that the panel area had to be shut down due to over-capacity around this time).

Diversity!

Portland is hip, and we get a fairly decent gender and age balance at our comics events, but there’s no way around this: Portland is white. If there is little racial diversity on Wednesday, or at Stumptown, or the Portland Comic Book Show or whatever, it’s because there’s little racial diversity in Portland. Coming from that background, it was heartening to be reminded that not all of comicdom is so pale. Even people running the booths and in Artists Alley surprised me, though there’s certainly a ways to go as far as representation in the creative and decision-making sides of the culture. But it’s good to be reminded that there’s more going on than is apparent in my corner.

View From Portland: The Portland Comic Book Show

Comics month continues with the semi-annual Portland Comic Book Show!

I should start by saying that I have tons of nostalgia for this show. I’ve never had much nostalgia for individual comics, but I still remember being twelve or so and walking around the Memorial Coliseum and being amazed to see so many comics. Compared to a major con, it’s a pretty small affair, but at the time it seemed huge. I’d never shopped for comics anywhere but my local store, Sandy Grand Slam (later Interzone Comics), so this was my only regular exposure to anything beyond their inventory.

The show is also where I first met professional comics writers and artists. A socially awkward preteen who hadn’t fully developed my tastes yet, I looked at the list of attending artists’ work and simply brought everything on the list that I owned. Upon arrival, I stood silently in front of a series of artists I wasn’t deeply familiar with while they signed stacks of every comic of mine they’d ever been involved in. While I eventually started to have favorites and began to anticipate some people’s arrival, early on I just knew that getting my comics signed was part of fandom, and that it was cool.

Over the years, it’s hard to know how much the show shrank and how much my own experience had simply broadened, but talking to dealers today, they agreed with my memory that for years there were fewer and fewer tables and the floor was less and less crowded (The show itself is held less frequently now, as well). In the last few years, I’ve been gratified to see it appear to be back on the upswing.

The show itself is evolving, perhaps due to competition from the Stumptown Comics Fest, which is in two weeks. The last show featured a writers panel, this time there were two “talk/demonstrations.” It’s not much, but the trend is in the right direction. Both talks were informal, rambling affairs, punctuated by live sketching and audience questions––entertaining stuff.

The first of these was Shannon Wheeler’s talk. I didn’t record it in great detail, as much of what he had to say is covered in my interview with him and my coverage of his similar talk at Powell’s Books last year, though there were some gems. One highlight was Wheeler’s explanation of he and his Austin cartoonist friends’ attempt to develop a gimmick for an issue of their anthology comic, JAB. Unable to afford die-cutting or foil, they came up with a uniquely Texan solution: they shot the comics with a gun. They laid stacks of JAB issues on the ground and fired a .22 rifle through an appointed spot, the art of each page incorporating the hole. Variant covers were achieved through the use of higher caliber bullets, making JAB “the only comic where the more damaged it is, the more it’s worth.”

Much of the talk was about the Too Much Coffee Man Opera; Wheeler left the show to catch the matinee before returning to his table on the floor. Talking about the difficulty of writing the libretto, he said, “I didn’t really realize you could go out and get a rhyming dictionary.”

The second talk was by Stan Sakai of Usagi Yojimbo fame. The crowd had a wide diversity of ages, clearly including a lot of equally excited parents and children. Noting Usagi Yojimbo’s upcoming 25th anniversary, Sakai commented that Usagi is “probably older than most of the people in this room. Makes me feel old.” Questions came from both young and old audience members, and the sketches generated during the talk proved a hit with the whole age range.

Sakai began by explaining the origin of the word “cartoonist,” which comes from the Italian word for cardboard, “cartone.” Once a master painter sketched his subject, several assistants were involved in copying it onto the surface he would paint on. The assistant’s assistant poked holes in the cardboard as part of making a grid. He was “il cartonist.” Therefore, Sakai joked, the name for his profession comes from “the flunky’s flunky.” He went on to describe his lifelong comics habit––he bought Fantastic Four #2 because it was 10¢, while DC Comics of the day were 12¢––and preempted the “why a rabbit question,” explaining that he was developing a samurai story and happened to sketch a rabbit whose ears were tied into a samurai’s top knot. He considered whether all of the characters should be anthropomorphic or if only Usagi should be an animal, “but that just sounded stupid to me.”

Sakai then went on to address the common question of where he gets his ideas, saying that “every. . . artist will say, ‘I don’t know’”. Adding that, “Usagi is not written for you; it’s written for an audience of one: me,” he talked about how the flexibility of the concept behind Usagi Yojimbo allows him to incorporate virtually any kind of storyline or character he wants. Next, Sakai illustrated how he creates an issue of Usagi Yojimbo. To demonstrate the thumbnail stage, he asked a child named Maxwell in the front row to give him the sequence of events that made up his day. Following along, Sakai created a thumbnail, labeled “Maxwell’s Day.” From there he held up penciled and inked art, as well as the “obsolete” steps of color guides and separations––a young girl a row behind me gasped in delight as the four color transparencies added up to a complete cover image.

Other topics included the importance of research: “It only enhances the story,” and the lack of research ruins an artist’s credibility. Asked about his hand-lettering, he professed to be “computer illiterate.” On Usagi’s long-standing connection to the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, Sakai noted that the two started at nearly the same time, and once the Turtles’ cartoon took off, Eastman and Laird asked him, “Want a toy?” They told him to have his people call their people. “I didn’t have any people. So they gave me some of their people. So for awhile we had some of the same people.” Finally, when asked the best part of his job, Sakai replied, “working at home.” He went on to say how lucky he was that his publishers over the years have largely left him alone, only seeing art when an issue is finished and trusting him to produce work on his own.

Back on the floor, it quickly became clear what kind of show this was for me. Sometimes I’m in the mood to get on the floor and dive into the 50¢ bins and other times I want to fill in holes in my trade paperback collection at half price (or at one table, three for $10). Today fit firmly in the latter, so I walked away with some Usagi Yojimbo I hadn’t read, some Fantastic Four, some Jaime Hernandez, and a few others. The coolest purchase by far was a set of Usagi sketchbooks directly from Sakai when I visited his table (which was very popular––even Darth Vader came over for a photo with him). While many sketchbooks are just that, Sakai’s are outtakes and “making of” material from Usagi Yojimbo, including pencils, thumbnails, alternate endings to issues and in one case a complete maybe-in-continuity story that’s never made it into the series. They are no doubt among the nicest convention mementos I’ve seen.

Both Sakai and his neighbor at the next table, Matt Wagner, were generous with their time, chatting in between signings and sketches. Wagner promised a big revelation for the ending to the current Grendel series, saying that Hunter Rose would prove to be even more evil than we’d known. I also talked with Kieron Dwyer, whose Starbucks boycott continues apace. Sadly, Tom Orzechowski had a last-minute lettering assignment and didn’t make it––I’d been looking forward to talking with him about his work on The Escapists, one of whose main characters is a letterer.

Once again, a great reminder of a childhood misspent among costumed people and moldy old comics, while the addition of panels and talks has helped to keep things fresh. Comics month is going well.

View From Portland: Art in a Floating World

Leivian stands in front of art from March’s “Repeat After Me” show of work by Sean Christensen, Catherine Peach and Stefan Saito

THINK OF THE MORE VENERABLE COMICS SHOPS in my hometown of Portland, Oregon, and you’ll likely come up with stores like Excalibur Comics, the local back issue heavyweight, or Things From Another World, Mike Richardson’s chain that spawned Dark Horse. However, the city’s newest generation of shops offers a very different kind of comics experience. Among them is Floating World Comics, focusing on independent comics, original art and being a hub for the Portland comics scene, and the only one with the foresight to open within walking distance of my apartment (a business move that has made it my regular shop). The store is located in Portland’s trendy Pearl District, where it sits amongst the area’s old industrial buildings-turned-art galleries and, through the efforts of proprietor, Jason Leivian, is a part of the district’s thriving art scene.

Every month Floating World participates in First Thursday, an area-wide open house in which galleries put on special shows, receptions and other events. On a given First Thursday, there will be original art by comics artists and––increasingly––other types of art, like paintings and photography, often accompanied by in-store appearances by artists. These events, as well as others like book release parties, attract many from the local comics scene, pros and fans alike. And of course, the rest of the time, Floating World is an attractive, friendly store with a diverse selection of books. (View Tom Lechner’s panoramic photo of the indie comics section of the store, taken at the Friends of the Nib event in February 2008. The main room, featuring mainstream comics, is visible through the window.)

I spoke with Leivian about the store, his thoughts on original art and the Portland comics scene, and some of the shows and publishing ventures he’s getting into on March 19th at the Ash Street Saloon in NW Portland.

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Kirby Continued Part 2

WELL, Amazon may have e-mailed to tell me that, though they’ve been taking preorders since last year, they suddenly don’t know when they’ll be getting in copies of Jack Kirby’s Fourth World vol. 4, but my look at later additions to Kirby’s saga continues:

Mister Miracle vol. 2 #6 By Keith Giffen, J. M. DeMatteis and Mike McKone DC Comics, 1989 – saddle-stitched, $1.00

Justice League Special #1 Featuring Mister Miracle By Keith Giffen, Len Wein and Joe Phillips DC Comics, 1990 – saddle-stiched, $1.50

While last time’s review was of a special Kirby tribute, these two Mister Miracle issues fit into the character’s regular status quo circa the late-’80s, early-’90s. At the time, that status quo seems to have been largely dictated by Miracle’s membership in the Justice League International, and appropriately these are both plotted by League mastermind Keith Giffen, with scripting and pencils on Mister Miracle #6 by JLI’s J.M. DeMatteis and occasional JLI artist (including the famous “Justice League Antarctica” story from JLI Annual #4), Mike McKone. I have a lot of affection for Giffen and DeMatteis’ “bwahaha” League, and readers and editors of the day must have liked it, too, because the series had pretty much stopped having serious plots by this point and, boy, did everything else they touched around the time get the same treatment.

Launching two years after Mister Miracle––AKA Scott Free––joined the JLI, I can only assume that this series came about because of the connection. Kirby had always set up Scott and his wife, Barda, as rejecting roles in the war between Gods, content to stay on earth and devote themselves to Scott’s life as an escape artist. Here it’s taken even further, with the two living a domestic life in the suburbs, trying to keep their new life and Scott’s role in the Justice League as far apart as possible. Now retired, Scott runs a repair shop, using New Genesis technology to fix people’s appliances. Barda appears to be a housewife.

It’s pretty much a sitcom premise and, while it’s hard to get a sense of the series from an issue by fill-in writers, from a glance at the letters column and next issue blurb, the series takes that approach even when Giffen and DeMatteis aren’t writing. For their issue, they do a “wacky friend comes to visit” plot, with the League sending the annoying, dog-like Green Lantern, G’Nort, to help them out when the mob targets their small town. It’s about as cheesy as you might expect, with both some painful jokes and some pretty funny jokes. Some of the funniest material comes from the incongruity of Big Barda confined to homemaking, as when she stands in the living room telling Scott, “I would have picked them apart––then fed their carcasses to the vultures!” When she later calls Scott to tell him she’s been attacked by a mobster trying to send him a message, Scott’s first response is, “My God––Is he all right?!”

G’Nort is a fairly one-joke character. He can work in small doses, but taking center stage as he does here shows that he doesn’t have much going on. His repeated listing of all the ways people have rejected him gets tired, though his mix of human and dog characteristics can be funny, as when he apologizes to Oberon for having chewed on his slippers. I’m always amused by Mike McKone’s depiction of him––his face is mostly dog, but with a long human-like nose. McKone’s work is strong as always. He and fellow League artist Kevin Maguire are very gifted when it comes to facial expressions, giving life to even some of Giffen and DeMatteis’ corniest jokes, jokes that would fall flat with different artists. Other than that, he recognizes that this is a book driven by verbal comedy and gets out of the way, keeping page layouts clear and maintaining interest in extended dialogue scenes.

Six months later, Scott is back in the escape artist game, with a world tour kicking off in Justice League Special #1. Despite the title, it’s really an extra Mister Miracle issue guest-starring the League, so it gets a script and pencils by the book’s regular team of Len Wein and Joe Phillips, working from Giffen’s plot. Unlike Giffen and DeMatteis’ Mister Miracle #6, it doesn’t stand alone, incorporating plot threads from both JLI and Mister Miracle, and introducing new storylines to each.

I can’t remember if Scott actually had much of a role in the League at this point, between his busy schedule of fixing toasters and putting on performances,––not that they’re all that busy, either, spending most of the issue attending Scott’s show, and later facing (that is, talking to) Manga Khan, the intergalactic bargainer who has shown up to add some cosmic stops to Scott’s tour. Whereas he had previously kidnapped Scott, this time he gets his participation through a sneaky contract. It’s not particularly urgent stuff, feeling mostly like set-up. More entertaining are the usual character moments from this incarnation of the League, though Wein’s one-liners aren’t as snappy as DeMatteis’.

Of greatest historical interest is the presence of Funky Flashman, a huckster introduced by Kirby in the original Mister Miracle #6, and appearing to be a parody of Stan Lee. If that was ever really in question, it certainly isn’t here, with Funky referring to most everyone as “Faithful One” or “True Believer.” How much of this is the need many creators who work with Fourth World characters seem to have to include as many obscure characters as possible and how much is Wein, the third editor-in-chief of the Marvel heroes line, razzing his predecessor, I have no idea. He’s written a tad flatly, but nice visual bits of business like spreading caviar on Oreos help give him more character––though a little static, Joe Phillips’ art is pleasant and full of this kind of attention to detail.

Of all of Kirby’s Fourth World characters, Mister Miracle and Big Barda are the ones that have most often been removed from their original setting. With abilities more in line with standard superheroes and living on Earth, it’s not hard to see why this has been done, but they lose something stripped of context. As deserters in the war between New Genesis and Apokolips, they are most interesting when existing in contrast to those still fighting it. Placed either in the Legaue or a sitcom, they’re more pedestrian, simultaneously too much like everyone else and a bit out of place. These two issues are amusing, and if you like this era of the Justice League like I do, you won’t be able to help but enjoy them (though neither are among the better issues of the time), but viewed against other Fourth World revivals, they’re less successful than those that have stuck with their milieu and depended less on the rest of the DC Universe.

More:

Kirby Continued part 1

Kirby Continued part 3

View From Portland: It’s Comics Month!

MAYOR TOM POTTER SAID SO.

If this comes as news to you, you’ve already missed over a half dozen events and are nearly seven hours into missing another. There are dozens more through the month. These are heady times here in rainy Portland.

My own comics weekend began with a sneak peak at Nicholas Gurewitch (Perry Bible Fellowship)’s work over at Floating World Comics––the show continues through the month (along with Tony Millionaire art that I did not see), and Gurewitch himself will be at the store for a reception April 24th.

Next, I caught the new restaging of Shannon Wheeler’s Too Much Coffee Man: The Opera at the Portland Center for the Performing Arts Friday night. In addition to a smoother staging of the original one act show, a new second act (co-written by local cartoonist Carolyn Mane) takes the cast to Mars for a wackier follow-up that’s closer in tone to the original comics. I had a great time, and the party afterwards featured all of the free Too Much Coffee Man coffee stout (with caffeine!) that one could drink. In between chatting up the opera stars and other attendees, I was able to do the circuit of “Meanwhile: An Exhibition of Comic Book Art,” a cool mix of alternative and mainstream comics original art displayed throughout the lobby. Later, everything moved to Suki’s Bar for karaoke, where the promise of opera singers making with the pop tunes went unfulfilled, though others from our group showed what they were made of.

Today began with a meeting of the committee setting up this month’s Stumptown Comics Fest, where I’m now an official sitter-inner, with perhaps a slightly bigger role in the future. Everything looks roughly on track, with all of the little details that go into planning panels, workshops, promotions, exhibitor space, etc. getting finalized and attention beginning to turn to next year.

Straight from the meeting, it was off to Cosmic Monkey Comics to check out the 24 Hour Comics Challenge, still in progress. In addition to seeing an old friend there and probably distracting him from his pages, I visited the “press box,” the balcony from which Top Shelf’s Leigh Walton was master of all he surveyed. A hardier soul than I, he’ll be there for the whole event, until 10AM tomorrow. His live-blogging continues over at Picture Poetry.

So already it’s a big month, with tons more to come. Next weekend sees the Portland Comic Book Show, with headliners Matt Wagner and Stan Saiki (who will be giving a “talk/demonstration”), Marjane Satrapi is in town for a talk Monday, TMCM: The Opera continues through the month and, biggest of all, April 26th and 27th will be this year’s Stumptown Comics Fest. Last year’s was my first real convention and I can’t wait for this year’s (though Con season actually starts for me the weekend before in New York).

If you live in Portland, or have always wanted to visit, be sure to check out the calendar of events for Comics Month. We’ll out-comics almost any town out there.

Kirby Continued, Part 1

THE FINAL VOLUME OF Jack Kirby’s Fourth World Omnibus has arrived. I don’t have my copy yet, but with the release of the sort-of-ending-but-really-not, it seemed like a good time to dig out follow-ups to Kirby’s Fourth World material and see how well they hold up. I’m not exactly sure how many reviews this will include, since I have to look around for what I have and figure out what counts, but it’ll be at least three.

In part one, Mark Evanier, Kirby’s assistant while he was creating the Fourth World, scripts from some leftover Jimmy Olson plots. It’s a project with a few goals in common to Fantastic Four: The Lost Adventure, through probably less historical interest, but is ultimately a more satisfying read.

The American Evolution! (Legends of the DC Universe #14) By Mark Evanier, Steve Rude, and Bill Reinhold DC Comics, 1999 – Saddle-stitched, $3.95

According to Mark Evanier’s afterwards to previous volumes of Fourth Wold Omnibus, Superman’s Pal, Jimmy Olson wasn’t an assignment that Jack Kirby took a lot of pleasure in, especially with all of the editorial interference he suffered. Nonetheless, he managed to come up with more stories for the series than he ended up fitting in. In his capacity as Kirby’s assistant, Evanier was privy to the details of these stories, and “The American Evolution!” sees him joined by Steve Rude and Bill Reinhold in telling one more story of The Project and its dark twin, The Evil Factory.

Except for the Newsboy Legion, it’s all here: Jimmy, Superman, Dubbilex, The Guardian, Darkseid, Morgan Edge, even the Whiz Wagon. The team captures the feel of Kirby’s Jimmy Olson stories well, despite some differences. Evanier’s plot is a little tighter, though not as full of ideas. It’s less madcap and a little more coherent, likely a product of different standards of pacing between the ‘70s and the ‘90s, as well as his advantage in having 56 pages (Kirby could take it slower when he had more space, as seen in the 2001: A Space Odyssey Treasury Edition). His dialogue is less earnest, with more schtick, but mostly captures Kirby’s urgent quality. The effort to make the story simultaneously harken back to the Kirby era and not disturb post-Crisis continuity is mildly distracting, establishing an uncomfortable middle-ground when, as a one-shot, it could have ignored present continuity. Being unaware of the circumstances of Superman comics circa 1999, I couldn’t help but notice the differences from the Kirby material, like Clark and Jimmy knowing Morgan Edge but not working for him.

But overall, it feels like a Kirby plot. The Fourth World Saga, for all its focus on raw power, was a product of the Vietnam era, and had a deep ethical concern with the view from the ground, splitting issues between the battles of gods and the dramas of the human characters caught in the crossfire, some of whom only appeared for an issue. It’s no different here, with Superman and The Guardian battling Darkseid’s attempts to devolve Metropolis into apes, while the human drama revolves around Jimmy and Daily Planet doorman, Bernie Sobel, who does his best to not get involved in other people’s problems, even as the building starts to come down around him. His arc has more stabs at comedy than I imagine Kirby injecting, but his discovery of courage under fire fits in with the other human character of The Fourth World.

Steve Rude does an interesting job pulling off a tough challenge, homaging Kirby’s style while maintaining his own. For the most part, characters have Rude faces and Rude builds, but he pulls off some convincing Kirby-style panel compositions and extreme perspectives, and draws some pretty admirable Kirby-tech. Bill Reinhold’s inking is spot-on, melding Rude’s grace with some Kirby weight and textures, making those chunky lines sit comfortably on Rude’s figures. Together, they do a stellar job of homaging Kirby without aping him.

I’ll be honest: If it weren’t for the Kirby history and homage, I don’t know how interested I’d be in “The American Evolution!”’s somewhat boilerplate story (of all of Kirby’s Fourth World work, I’m not sure if fans were really screaming for more Jimmy and The Project). However, the obvious love Evanier et al have for the material shines through, and touches like Bernie’s transformation, parallels between the fear Darkseid and Edge’s underlings have for them, the many excellent monsters and machines, coupled with great art, push it beyond mere nostalgia artifact to genuinely enjoyable read.

More:

Kirby Continued part 2

Kirby Continued part 3