Black Panther (1998) #7

Bp7 It’s a good but unfortunate issue of Black Panther. Writer Priest is firing on all cylinders, while the art is a Many Hands mishmash of styles—the issue credits Jimmy Palmiotti and Vince Evans (washes for Evans). But there’s also additional help from Alitha Martinez and Nelson DeCastro. So the art never looks consistent for more than a few pages. Some of Evans’s washes appear to be over pencils. Somehow they took the fun out of Joe Jusko pencils.

Good thing Priest’s got a killer story. The stuff with Everett K. Ross is starting to get tired. This issue has him roller-blading away from an enraged Bill Clinton, who’s chasing him through the White House with a hockey stick. This bit started last issue, but we still haven’t found out exactly what’s going on because Priest fractures Ross’s narration for dramatic effect. And comedic. Best for comedic.

But we do find out something about why Ross is in such hot water. For the cliffhanger. Before the cliffhanger, there’s a resolution to the Kraven guest spot—with Kraven doing that whole “cut me, make me bleed” thing, and it’ll be wild if they do it in the movie. It’s not like there’s much else to Kraven’s character. He blathers on to Black Panther during their rematch about how much he always wanted to fight him and so on–Kraven’s exhausting, which Priest fully acknowledges and embraces.

There are a couple weird moments to date the issue: Ross lusting after the teenage girl bodyguards, who change in front of him, and then Ross saying if he were “Black and gay,” he’d be into T’Challa. We’re seven issues in, and there’s still nothing more to Ross, which would be okay if Priest weren’t still relying on him. I’ve got a specious memory he’ll be gone soon, but it might also just be wishful thinking.

Or maybe if they draw him like Michael J. Fox again.

Or if the book could get its act together art-wise. The action scenes should’ve been good, and instead seemed entirely static. High hopes for next time… though I’m definitely not checking the creator credits beforehand.

Black Panther (1998) #6

Black Panther 6 ml The issue begins with an Everett K. Ross scene; he’s debriefing the President about his latest adventure with Black Panther, only to quickly offend and have to roller-blade his way out of there. Writer Priest knows how to play Ross for comedy—I guess they couldn’t do the whitest white boy in the world in the MCU because Chris Pratt was already playing Starlord—but Priest continues to have problems with Ross professionally. He’s got a wacky reaction to the finale, but also, it was 1999, and maybe even the wokest CIA (sorry, OCP… OmniConsumer What?) agent is going to call armed response at a crowd of Black people.

Minor quibbles, it turns out, because Priest’s got the plotting down for Black Panther business, and Joe Jusko is doing the art. After the Ross bookend, which will presumably continue through the arc like last time, there’s a five-page fight between Kraven the Hunter and Black Panther. Jusko tracks the successes and fails from panel to panel (except cuts to Ross cowering) so the reader can see how Kraven gets the upper hand or how Black Panther reacts. It’s beautiful stuff. And it’s just the beginning.

The story then backs up to the White House reception for Black Panther, decades late, with the President still too busy to attend and no Black folks on the guest list except T’Challa and his guests. Great comedy beat for Zuri, T’Challa’s bodyguard, who’s otherwise mostly out of the action this issue. Priest is still doing his distant third-person perspective when it comes to T’Challa. He spends most of the issue dancing with Doja Milaje warrior Nakia. At the same time, the story flashes back to her hiring (and T’Challa promising he isn’t going to be creepy with her, especially because she’s a teenager, while Ross narrates about how he would be creepy with her and go to jail… ah, the 1990s, though also perfect for Chris Pratt). We also get flashbacks to T’Challa’s college days and the white girl who occupied his romantic attention (who may be Ross’s present-day boss and girlfriend; Jusko draws her like Gwen Stacy anyway, I can’t keep track).

The finale has the Black people of New York City (“all of them, I think”) arriving outside the hotel to ask Black Panther why he’s not their hero. At this point, Ross calls in the OCP SWAT team (no ED-209s, come on, Marvel, lean into it) and tells the crowd to disperse while escorting Black Panther away from the dangerous crowd. Then, in comes Kraven, but before the fight scene earlier, so there’s more fighting on the way. More glorious Jusko fighting, I should hope.

In addition to the fight scenes being so good, anything with motion is delightful. Jusko captures the enthusiasm and energy of a seventies Marvel comic but with far more detail. But you look at how Kraven’s expressions work throughout, and it’s just old school.

I knew I was in for a treat with this Black Panther run. Even with Priest’s occasional character bumps, it’s such a delight.

Black Panther (1998) #5

Bp5 Writer Priest gets a guest artist—Vince Evans—to help him finish out the arc. At first it seems like Evans is going to be more action-oriented, but then he starts coming through with the comedy. He’s pretty bland with Ross (still) telling the story to his boss (slash girlfriend). It’s an even more Michael J. Fox Ross.

The issue opens with Black Panther and Ross in Hell, drug there by Mephisto, who’s got a deal for T’Challa. If he agrees to sell his soul, he can have Wakanda back. Meanwhile, in between cut scenes to Ross not wanting to tell his girlfriend what happened—which ends up being a red herring since the end of the issue’s incredibly abrupt, and there’s actually nothing more for Ross—there’s a flashback to Black Panther’s origin. Ulysses Klaw comes to Wakanda, ready to strip mine it, only young—then prince—T’Challa saves the day.

It’s an okay origin recap, with Priest and Evans moving fluidly through the flashback events, but it’s got no narrative purpose. Other than for Ross to tell his girlfriend the Black Panther’s origin story like she couldn’t just pick up an Official Handbook of the Marvel Universe and get the recap. It’s stranger still to have a guest artist do it (though the end of the issue promises Joe Jusko arrives as the new regular artist… but then why not have him do it next time?).

The flashback’s engaging enough to distract from there really not being any story and Priest punting the Wakandan coup plot down the line. As part of the series’s setup, Black Panther can’t deal with it now, plus there’s a significant twist reveal on the last page, which should have more of a kick.

Between the flashback, the Ross bookends, Mephisto being talky, and the final reveal, Priest has managed to get five issues into Black Panther without ever letting Black Panther be the protagonist. It’ll be interesting to see if Priest keeps up with the Ross narration—it starts stalling out this issue like they were desperate to make their pages but also unwilling to do a straight resolution to the arc.

The Mephisto bit isn’t a swing and a miss, but there’s nowhere near the payoff initially implied. It definitely seems like something happened between issues one and five, editorially speaking.

Anyway. Can’t wait for more. Bring on the Jusko.

And Kraven!

Black Panther (1998) #4

Black Panther 4 Writer Priest has a magical moment—or anti-magical—and artist Mark Texeira gets to do some great art, including shimmering pants, but the first thing to talk about with Black Panther #4 is the Everett Kenneth Ross photo reference.

It’s Michael J. Fox. At least twice.

The idea of Michael J. Fox playing Ross looms over the issue in a way. Especially if you imagine him in the movies instead of “Cracker” Freeman. Especially late nineties Fox (so post-Mars Attacks he’d be ready for it?). It’s such a strange idea.

Especially considering the nude banjo playing. Nude banjo playing is not a euphemism.

In other words, Priest’s back on this issue right from the start. Black Panther’s just had a Mephisto-trip and is running around the rooftops to clear his head when two White Panthers attack him. Now, Texeira has a great issue (shimmering pants), but he’s also got this sequence. It ends with the White Wolf of Wakanda (not Bucky, obviously, Bucky’s dead, Steve) turning into a White Panther, and it’s awful. And silly looking.

There’s a little catch-up with subplots in progress—the child murderer and the NYPD super-cop, the coup in Wakanda, Alex P. Keaton and his unlikely boss girlfriend (Tracy Pollan?)—before Mephisto reveals he knows all of Ross’s secrets, like when he was a bullied chubby redneck kid. Texeira draws the hell out of this traumatic kid memory flashback right before he draws the hell out of Black Panther saving the day.

It’s an awesome, confined action sequence. They’re confined to the apartment building, which Priest and Texeira play to comedic and dramatic effect. We’re finally getting to see that chemistry between Black Panther and Ross, and it’s delightful. And much more successful than Ross’s self-deprecating whining with his boss slash girlfriend; it’s like Back to the Future II Marty Jr.

Anyway.

Priest and Texeira play the absurd absolutely straight-faced to outstanding results. Even as the opening sort of confused me—the White Panthers look like ghost twins of Black Panther, so I maybe thought they weren’t real in last issue’s cliffhanger? They’re there; they just didn’t make a lasting impression. Regardless, it’s clear from the first few pages Priest’s back on with the book. The comic’s got a distinct wry, laconic sensibility (when it’s not Ross rambling, obviously). Priest has fun, but it’s controlled fun, which matches Texeira’s enthusiastic, thorough art.

It’s such a good series.

Black Panther (1998) #3

Black Panther 3 Black Panther is from just before the “writing for the trade” concept, which then led to the “waiting for the trade” purchasing decisions. But this issue very much feels like it’s meant to be read in the middle of a trade, not as the single Panther released in a four-week period. It’s not a bridging issue but a (brief) exposition issue.

Writer Priest does the backstory on the main villain—Achebe—who has taken over Wakanda in T’Challa’s absence, and how he sold his soul to the devil (Mephisto) to get revenge on his wife. She betrayed him to invaders, running off with them as they stabbed him thirty-two times. So he made a deal to come back and avenge himself on everyone who ever knew her, stabbing them thirty-two times. It’d be a much more compelling story if it wasn’t Ross telling it to his boss over a sandwich in the CIA commissary.

But there’s also T’Challa tracking down the little girl’s killer, which Achebe engineered from afar. It leads to Mephisto tempting T’Challa through a series of flashbacks to Black Panther appearances in other Marvel comics. They’re single-panel action shots for Mark Texeira to illustrate quite well; there’s no story to them. Except for the implication T’Challa can pick whatever ex-girlfriend he wants back so long as he bends the knee to Mephisto.

Now, he hasn’t met up with Mephisto yet; Mephisto and Ross are still chilling back at the apartment or whatever. All of Priest’s careful fracturing—out Pulp Fictioning Pulp Fiction—is lost here. It’s willy-nilly, like editors Joe Quesada and Jimmy Palmiotti were done with the gimmick. Quesada’s storytelling credit this issue shows up as being part of the writing process, not the art process like before. Panther was one of the first Marvel Knights series and all, but it shouldn’t be losing momentum so fast.

And it doesn’t lose all of it. It just stalls. There’s still a bunch of good art and compelling sequences. It’s just Priest goes from Ross telling the story to Mephisto (presumably) narrating it while focusing on T’Challa for events Ross doesn’t witness. Did we break away from the existing narrative structure? Does it matter?

I’m hoping—and assuming—Priest recovers next issue.

10 Things I Hate About You (1999, Gil Junger)

10 Things I Hate About You is from that strange period in American mainstream filmmaking when they knew you couldn’t make too many jokes about high school girls anymore, unless you establish at least twice they’re eighteen so it’s not technically illegal.

There’s also the issue of Andrew Keegan’s sexual predator, who the film treats as something of a joke throughout. Things takes place in the beautiful Pacific Northwest, with lots of white faces, big houses, and big lawns. It’s the perfect location for a Disney teen comedy, except Things is Touchstone and, therefore, tougher. But there’s never significant bullying; nerdy Joseph Gordon-Levitt and David Krumholtz are teased but never assaulted. And Krumholtz invites a lot of the teasing (for a while, anyway).

The film’s based on Shakespeare’s Taming of the Shrew, which I’ve never read or seen, so I’m not sure if Keegan’s character in the original is quite as repugnant. Since the film’s from the late nineties, it doesn’t even think Keegan’s too bad, like it can’t hear him talk, and it doesn’t acknowledge what his character motivation must be after we find out his backstory.

With those asterisks aside, the film’s a charm offensive from leads Julia Stiles and, especially, Heath Ledger. Director Junger often just stares at Ledger, waiting for him to do something charming or perfectly timed. Sometimes Stiles will be staring at him too long, too, because he’s just so damn charming. They’re both delightful, even as the film gets more serious and director Junger (thanks to Mark Irwin’s bland photography) doesn’t really know how to adjust for it.

The film’s also desperate for soundtrack album sales to the point Stiles’s favorite band, (the real-life) Letters to Cleo, figures into the story a couple times and then is back again for a vertigo-inducing live performance. Whether you’re a fan of the band or not, Things doesn’t use them (or much of the music) very well. Especially not once it just does one montage after another. The movie doesn’t even remember its title until the third act.

Though the montages probably help move through without unraveling the plot, which has high school senior Keegan lusting after sophomore Larisa Oleynik, who can’t date until her older sister, Stiles, also dates. Larry Miller plays their single-parent dad; he’s hilarious if just a textured caricature. Gordon-Levitt likes Oleynik too, so Krumholtz convinces him they’re going to get Keegan to hire Ledger to date Stiles, freeing up Oleynik to date….

Well, Gordon-Levitt thinks she’ll be dating him, even though all of her scenes are about her wanting to date Keegan. Throw in Ledger and Stiles falling for each other, and you’ve got yourself a teen movie.

The film obviously had a much different original cut—the end credits have the blooper reel, many of which are from scenes the film didn’t use; the bloopers are funny, and the scenes usually aren’t. Or they’re super problematic even for Things.

Outside Keegan, who’s fine but just a superficial jerk, the performances are uniformly good or better. Ledger and Stiles are obviously the better, but Oleynik’s good, ditto Gordon-Levitt. Allison Janney has a great cameo (cut down) as the school guidance counselor, while Daryl Mitchell’s the teacher who knows Keegan shouldn’t be sexually harassing Stiles, but it’s the late nineties, and he’s not going to actually do anything about it.

Decent editing from O. Nicholas Brown helps, especially during the montages, and if Irwin’s photography weren’t so flat, Junger’s direction would be downright good.

10 Things I Hate About You has its collection of caveats, but its successes—Ledger and Stiles’s successes—are considerable.

Frasier (1993) s07e11 – The Fight Before Christmas

“Frasier” does indeed run into immediate problems with Jane Leeves finding out David Hyde Pierce has a crush on her (and has had one for quite some time). Leeves has her first moment of romantic interest—post finding out—and it’s when Hyde Pierce puts his jacket on her. They’re standing out on the balcony unraveling the plot-driving confusion. Leeves has spent the episode thinking Hyde Pierce is romantically interested in her again because he’s on the outs with girlfriend Jane Adams, while Hyde Pierce just wants to patch things up with Adams.

But they’re out in the cold Christmas air (it’s the Christmas episode), and when Leeves shivers, he offers his suit jacket. Why are they out on the balcony? So he can discretely ask her something (related to Adams), and while it’s awkward, it doesn’t require them to be outside. It’s just to set Leeves to get swept away by gallantry in an absurdly unnecessary situation.

Last episode—the “first part” of this two-parter, quotations because it’s not a real two-parter—neither Adams nor Saul Rubinek showed up. In this episode, Leeves initially thinks Hyde Pierce won’t confess his devotion because Rubinek’s around. Except Leeves has now got the “what ifs,” and it’s derailing the show. Or at least threatening to do it.

The episode begins an indeterminate time after last episode, which was a birthday episode (initially) for Kelsey Grammer. I’m vaguely curious if they do him having a birthday just before Christmas in other seasons, but I’m not willing to do the work. But some time has passed, only Leeves hasn’t seen anyone to tell them about the crush discovery. Anyone meaning Peri Gilpin, who becomes Leeves’s sidekick this episode, which is fine—they’re great together—but it’s strange and forced.

Pamela Fryman directs this episode (she did last episode, too) and does a fantastic job. Grammer’s got a Christmas party at work (Tom McGowan and Edward Hibbert briefly guest), and then he and John Mahoney have Christmas antics fun; Fryman does great with that stuff. And she does all right with Leeves’s, but she can’t make it work. The script—credited to Jon Sherman (who didn’t get the credit last episode)—just isn’t there.

To confuse Leeves, Hyde Pierce has an opening subplot regarding Maris, which means Adams’s most significant contribution is a brief harpy scene. Rubinek does slightly better, at least getting to have fun as Grammer’s Christmas party gofer.

It’s okay, but the problems are immediately showing. Not assuring.

Frasier (1993) s07e10 – Back Talk

This episode is the first entry in a two-parter, but one of those loose sitcom two-parters where it’s just so they keep them together in syndication. Whatever comes after Back Talk will be inevitably different because, after over a hundred and seventy episodes, “Frasier”’s going to deal with one of its longest-running story arcs.

Not the chair, though it gets mentioned.

No, this episode is where Daphne (Jane Leeves) finds out about Niles (David Hyde Pierce) having a crush on her. Possibly. It depends on how drowsy Kelsey Grammer’s painkillers make him, but Leeves is on a collision course with the reveal.

But it doesn’t start about the seven-year crush; it begins with Grammer’s birthday breakfast and a bad back. And some good jokes with dad John Mahoney giving him gruff. The episode’s script credit goes to Lori Kirkland; Pamela Fryman directs. It’s a near exemplar “Frasier,” from the structure to unexpectedly giving Leeves a big acting task, except it’s too functional. There’s no going back if Leeves finally finds out… you can just see the TV teasers.

When Grammer tells Peri Gilpin about his bad back, she suggests he list his current complaints about the human condition aloud. He finally gives in to the idea—with Hyde Pierce and Gilpin nicely teaming up against him—only when he confesses (to an unlikely recipient) how much he will miss Leeves when she leaves (no pun; to get married), she overhears and thinks he’s got romantic feelings.

Something Mahoney reinforces (without elaborating on). So Leeves thinks Grammer’s got the hots for her and gets really uncomfortable—another great sequence from Leeves. This episode gives her a lot more to do than usual.

Excellent performances from Grammer and Leeves, with some solid scenes for Mahoney too. Gilpin and Hyde Pierce are all support; they’re good and funny, but they’re all support.

There’s a great subplot about Grammer discovering the best salve for his bad back, which comes back in the credits scene just right.

It’s a really good episode. But it’s also a really good episode related to the show’s Achilles heel (or so we’ll soon learn). From here, however, it seems like they’ve got smooth sailing ahead.

Scene of the Crime (1999) #4

Scene of the Crime 4

The whole issue doesn’t rest on the action sequences, but it’d still have been nice if penciller Michael Lark had broken them out differently. There’s this very anti-climatic car chase, foot chase, car chase, shoot-out sequence, and it should have been better. Though it also doesn’t matter because it’s just the red herring ending. Scene of the Crime has like six endings. Half of them are also epilogues.

One of them has hero Jack telling his ex-girlfriend all his deep, dark secrets so she’ll give him another chance. I mean, I assume writer Ed Brubaker thought it’d be a good exposition dump scene, but it’s not. Crime is from before talking heads were a comics trope, so there’s this bewildering diner conversation scene. At one point, Lark’s angling from the adjoining booth’s napkin dispenser or something. The comic’s usually so precise in its composition, but not when it’s the big emotional pay-off.

Or it would be an emotional pay-off if Jack and the ex-girlfriend had any chemistry. Brubaker gives Jack five sidekicks in this issue. They all validate Jack, which makes functional sense in one way or another, but it’s tedious. There’s no reason for so many different people to hang around; well, not any logical reasons. A couple of times, it’s just so Brubaker can gin up drama or a reveal.

It’s an okay last issue. It’s disappointing; Brubaker’s big reveal scene’s got terrible dialogue, not to mention his attempts at going more extreme than Chinatown. There’s also some lousy characterization once the mystery’s done, real lack of continuity stuff. Okay… but disappointing.

I remember desperately wanting a sequel to this comic back when it first came out. Probably better they didn’t do one. That second issue was excellent, though.

The rest is take and leave, with way too much leave.

Scene of the Crime (1999) #3

Scene of the Crime 3

Scene of the Crime doesn’t exactly stall out this issue, but it definitely goes into idle. Not sure why I’m doing car references, possibly because of an ill-advised speeding car sequence, which artist Michael Lark visualizes too quickly. Our hero, Jack, has just been to a hippie commune where he’s gotten in trouble, a la Philip Marlowe (or The Dude), and he and his P.I. buddy have to make a run for it. The issue’s been building to them going to the commune to question the prime suspect. When they don’t, it seems like the revelation is going to wait. Instead, Jack gets a talkative visitor to get us to a cliffhanger.

The issue’s lost the San Francisco personality. Not just with the road trip to the commune, but it’s rainy this issue of Crime and rainy Lark (with Sean Phillips inks and James Sinclair colors) overpowers the location.

Writer Ed Brubaker’s got some decent moments. The best—technically speaking—is when Jack and his aunt talk in exposition dumps to help him along to the subsequent investigation scene. It’s a neat trick, though a little obvious. The supporting cast doesn’t get much personality in this issue, not those related to the murder, not those in Jack’s personal life. His ex-girlfriend reappears, and he has a profoundly narcissistic conversation with her, something Brubaker definitely isn’t doing intentionally. Again, Scene feels very much of its time.

Right down to a jackass hipster P.I. being homophobic while wearing a fedora in 1999.

It’s been so long since I’ve last read the series I can’t possibly remember how it finishes (the end reveal tosses most of Jack’s working theory, and the reader isn’t privy to anything more). I’m convincing myself two was the peak, however. I do remember really wanting another series, something they never did, but in addition to it being a 1999 comic, a 1999 me wanted that sequel.

Even with the lackluster issue, it’s not bad (just problematic). Rainy Lark is glorious, and Brubaker’s got some of the better narration going.

Maybe it’ll end just fine. As long as there aren’t more hippie communes.

Fingers crossed.