Swamp Thing (2019) s01e02 – Worlds Apart

“Swamp Thing” reveals one of the many superhero tv show caveats: an origin episode isn’t the same thing as a pilot episode. Yes, last episode introduced the various characters, but this episode—in addition to introducing more supporting characters (well, at least one)—sets up what they’re going to be doing on the show. For example, Virginia Madsen, who’s no better acting-wise, unfortunately, is going to be trying to resurrect her dead, apparently drown in the swamp daughter. It’s unclear if it’s intentional or not or if an evil spirit is manipulating things.

Or newly introduced sheriff Jennifer Beals (doing a Southern-ish but specific accent), who also happens to be dreamy deputy Henderson Wade’s mother. She’s worried Wade’s life-long puppy dog crush on Crystal Reed will get in the way of something. It’s unclear what. Beals gets mad when Wade and Reed go looking for a missing kid; it’s a strange, concerning professional flex from Beals.

Or still munching away at the scenery Will Patton. At first, I felt bad for Patton—it was his scene opposite Madsen—but later on, he picks things up, relishing in the shitty, good ol’ boy but wealthy industrialist, who may or may not have a human side. At one point, Reed has to ask Patton for a favor, and we find out however the daughter died in high school, it was in a way Patton can say he doesn’t blame Reed.

Of course, Reed’s local bestie Maria Sten has just told Reed not to trust Patton. Or reminded her not to trust Patton. It’s soap, but grim and gritty soap. They’re trying real hard to be Southern Gothic, and they’re able to pull off the visual trappings of the genre. Sort of. Ian Ziering shows up as a cheesy action hero who owns a retro video rental and vinyl store in town, a la Kevin Smith. It’s so weird it can’t not work. Oh, also basically Internet cafe because no one knows how to use their smartphones in “Swamp Thing.”

The show also establishes how Andy Bean will stay in the credits even though he’s become a giant swamp thing, played—in suit—by Derek Mears. The show’s doing something interesting with the Swamp Thing introduction. They’re dragging it out, for one thing, but they’re giving him a psychic connection to little kid Elle Graham. Not sure if she, Swampy, and the dog will fend off angry villagers in an homage to Saga of the Swamp Thing #1, but there’s a not zero chance.

Bean has video diaries, which he apparently records on his iPhone, then uploads to Ziering’s very not-Apple PC laptop but also not showing a brand. Bean loads them into iTunes on the PC. We find out from the diaries he’s not rich actually (meaning he was regularly breaking into his old lab last episode), and he thinks Reed is smart, driven, and lovely. Also, he’s a sandal enthusiast.

But the real surprise is Kevin Durand as Jason Woodrue. Woodrue—previously essayed by Mr. John Glover in Batman and Robin—is a Swamp Thing mainstay and, in the show, Durand’s working with Patton. Durand’s a hoot. He’s trying really hard to do something different and succeeding. Despite having a big cast, it’s the first spotlight performance, partially because everyone else is pretty constrained. Hence Patton having to devour armchairs.

Reed mostly gets to run the episode, with diversions, and it’s okay, but just. Thanks again to special effects and production values, the show can carry through the weaker moments but, again, only just.

Swamp Thing (2019) s01e01

I can’t get the “Swamp Thing” theme out of my head; a subtle but undeniable earworm courtesy composer Brian Tyler. It is not at all related to any of the previous themes—well, it could be from the 1990 show, I don’t remember; I did wonder how the Swamp Thing movie score would work over the new show, with its production values and its CGI. Despite having two movies and a three season TV show under the franchise belt, this “Swamp Thing” is the first one capable of getting close to the comic in terms of visuals.

The special effects are okay. They’re going for a 1982 Thing thing, only with plant vines, and it’s fine. The show initially presents as a sci-fi medical thriller but quickly veers into straight horror and conspiracy thriller terrority, with a lengthy break in premium but not transcendent soap opera. CDC troubleshooter Crystal Reed is back home since leaving in disgrace; she somehow killed her best friend (a bridge and a car are somehow involved, but no more details yet), and the friend’s mom, Virginia Madsen, ran her out of town.

So, despite taking place in Louisiana (fake with a good regional name Marais versus real place from the comics Houma), no one has an accent. It’s Southern California Gothic. Madsen’s married to industrialist Will Patton, who’s experimenting on all the yokels without anyone suspecting because he’s such a good old boy himself. It’s an easy performance for Patton, who has the most accent, whereas Madsen’s—so far—blank. With an outrageous accent, she might stand out. Without one, and without any visible emoting, it’s a disappointment. This episode’s extraordinarily well-paced, so the Reed and Madsen scene had goodwill going in. Like, it could’ve been something.

It was not. Combination Madsen and the script, but mostly the latter.

Anyway.

The medical sci-fi thriller involves rogue, disgraced scientist Andy Bean, who sneaks into the hospital where Reed and her team have set up base to investigate a mysterious outbreak. After hinting at potential supporting cast members in Reed’s homecoming arc (hottie sheriff Henderson Wade and cool newspaper reporter Maria Sten), the episode ends up being Bean and Reed, hanging out, doing science, blowing things up, running from plant monsters, and so on.

Bean’s scientist without mercy comes off like a twenty-first century Richard Dreyfuss from Jaws; he’s an entitled, privileged rich kid whose hobbies happen to coincide with the greater good. Is Bean charming in the part? He’s not unlikable, which is a success.

Reed’s okay. After being active in her first scene, her character’s been entirely passive since. Despite being the lead, she’s rarely got anything but potential agency. Someone else comes along and takes over. It’s a problem.

But “Swamp Thing” generates more than enough momentum through this first episode to warrant a return. Especially since this episode’s presumably more prequel than the pilot.

William Gibson’s Alien 3 (2018) #5

Presumably, the very, very important Communist character would’ve had a more significant part in the movie. However, in the comic adaptation—in Johnnie Christmas’s adaptation, anyway—not so much. Maybe because their story is entirely the Aliens thriller and suspense sections. It’s unfortunate, though, only because the conclusion—where they talk about how we’re supposed to share these new worlds in peace or whatever—doesn’t work without having better emphasized the Soviets. Or whatever they’re called.

To get over rough spots—where he doesn’t have time for the action sequences—Christmas once again lets Alien 3 feel like a comic adaptation, not an adaptation of an unproduced screenplay. Christmas rushes through the alien action sequences, as they keep breaking out, page after page, as the survivors realize there are a lot more aliens around than they thought. Luckily, Hicks has a weapon—“you have no weapons of any kind”—so they’re not helpless.

There’s also what should be a tense action sequence for Lance Henriksen’s Bishop, who gets a far better arc in this version than the produced movie. Unfortunately, it’s not particularly tense in the comic. The action’s just the wrong type, or Christmas just doesn’t have the pages. You’d need maybe three all-action issues to get through everything in this issue. And maybe it would read better in a single sitting. Alien 3 never can catch any breaks.

As is, this issue needs another five pages. There aren’t so many aliens we can’t keep track, so Christmas needed to keep better track instead of summarizing. Especially when they start in-fighting; no spoilers, but it’s a precursor to Alien Resurrection.

There’s one other big surprise to the comic. Again, no spoilers. But the Alien³ they made closed off a franchise; this Alien 3 they didn’t make… it opened it up.

It’s not unimaginable; with a good director and some decent script doctoring (Alien producers Walter Hill and David Giler probably could’ve handled it easily), this version would’ve been superior to the theatrical version (which I like okay). But it’s hard to tell from William Gibson’s Alien 3. It’s an okay Elseworlds Aliens comic. It’s unique due to its context, not its content. Christmas’s distinctive, but at the end of the day, he’s just adapting.

I was expecting more, but I’m not disappointed.

Like I said, Alien 3 can never catch a break.

A Walk Through Hell (2018) #12

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A Walk Through Hell has a surprisingly affective final issue. Not because anything in it connects, but because everything in it does not, and then it becomes clear writer Garth Ennis isn’t just having a laugh; he put thought into it. And it all comes out bad. For most of the issue, Hell #12 feels like the talky conclusion to a lousy movie starring Patton Oswalt and Charlize Theron, like Ennis had a script in a drawer and turned it into a comic.

Something from when he was primarily known for writing Preacher. Think Seven meets the most realistic, not funny parts of Preacher. It’s talky, disappointing, a little sad, but not off the rails. The stakes are all theoretical.

But then it gets very, very current with Ennis making all sorts of commentary on 2018 politics and becomes a spiritual sequel to his old series, 303 (when Bush was president). Hell’s a significant downgrade from that series. Worse, Ennis has the perfect ending to the comic, and he doesn’t see it. He’s got the moment in his grasp to at least make the last couple of issues pay off. Not the whole, disastrous waste of money, but at least the finish would be effective.

He misses it, of course. Of course, he misses it. Walk Through Hell’s the hells of missed opportunities and bad plot choices.

Only it’s not over. There’s the final punchline: Ennis pretends he wrote a good comic with great characters, and it’s wretched. Especially since Goran Sudžuka’s art looks like he’s drawing stylized toys, not people. It’s a lousy finish to an already lousy series.

It’s been a long time since Ennis has made anything quite this bad. I hope it’s a long time until he does it again.

William Gibson’s Alien 3 (2018) #4

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Thirteen or so pages of this issue are the best work Johnnie Christmas has done on William Gibson’s Alien 3. There’s a lot of action at the start of the issue; the company suits finding out there might be an alien onboard, the alien arriving and killing, the crew panicking. It’s a slightly new kind of alien, “hatching” fully formed from the human host. There’s eventually a Thing 1982 reference with it. Not sure if it’s the source script or Christmas, but Alien 3’s gorier and, presumably, even slimier than any of the movies.

But then Christmas finds this tempo and rhythm as he rushes through the second act of the series. Starting with Hicks sending Ripley off safely to the next sequel, the issue is beautifully paced. Christmas takes his time on a lot of the action; he’s not conservative with his panels. The action scenes get at least a full page more than they need, including the cliffhanger, which is slightly disappointing just because I didn’t want the issue to end. Still… outstanding work.

I’d read most of Gibson’s Alien 3 before, and I thought I’d been more enthusiastic last time, but getting through this issue, I see I just needed to get to this issue. It’s an outstanding comic; all the herky-jerky storytelling of the first three issues pays off here. The relatively short resolutions throughout this issue—as the alien starts attacking—and the lengthy earlier introductions; somehow, Christmas makes them balance. It’s excellent comics adapting.

Christmas also does another comics adapting device I like; mixing in call-forwards in addition to callbacks. Except, of course, with something like Gibson’s Alien 3, calling forward to the fourth Alien movie hops continuities. The alien here looks a little like the skull alien in Resurrection, but also the original Kenner toy for the first Alien with the predominant skull peering through the membrane. Scary looking thing.

I’d started second-guessing myself on this series. I’m glad I was right the first time. Can’t wait to see how it finishes.

A Walk Through Hell (2018) #11

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Goran Sudžuka made it until issue eleven to rush the art. Before, when he stopped putting effort into the inks, it was noticeable and unfortunate because Walk Through Hell lost its greatest asset. It wasn’t bad; it just lost the charm. Though, obviously, it’s not clear anything could’ve brought Walk “charm.”

Anyway.

This issue Sudžuka’s done putting in the work. He’s got to illustrate a cavern full of skeletons a couple times, then a room of snakes; he’s not putting the time into the figures or the faces. There’s a prologue flashing back to Agent Shaw’s dysfunctional childhood (which has zilch to do with the issue), and Sudžuka does an excellent job with it. Then the rest of the issue, with Shaw yelling at her iPhone in response to off-screen, now damned for all time McGregor’s text messages, is not excellent. Given writer Garth Ennis’s bewildering understanding of smartphone coverage in Hell, which includes text-to-speech and ghostly voice chat, it seems impossible anyone could’ve done well.

And so, it’s a nothing issue, even more than the usual Walk nothing issues. Writer Garth Ennis is burning through twenty pages to make the twelve-issue limited series count. Nothing else. Nothing significant this issue happens outside some unnecessary explanation, and Ennis closing a red herring from a couple issues ago. Nothing’s necessary for the comic. It’s just more pages.

No wonder Sudžuka didn’t want to put in the effort.

There’s only one more issue of Walk Through Hell. The series is definitely worse than I thought it would be—so much for it being a World War I war comic, as I’d assumed for some reason, but I don’t know if it’s ending worse than its lowest point. I mean, it probably will. I’m predicting Ennis has got a couple twists before he’s done.

I wonder how bad they’ll be.

William Gibson’s Alien 3 (2018) #3

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It’s old home week this issue; not only do Newt and Hicks have (relatively) big scenes this issue, but Bishop is also back in one piece. All of a sudden, it feels more like a sequel to Aliens, but only slightly. This Alien 3 hasn’t got any time for a kid, so Newt’s got to get gone. Adapter Johnnie Christmas has a wonderful sense of how to handle the scenes he can’t actually convey—in a movie, Carrie Henn and Michael Biehn saying farewell would have some timing, some just right music cues to refer back to their adventures in the previous film.

Christmas barely has time for them in the adaptation, and he can’t do music cues. So instead, he just plays it like an old comic book movie adaptation. He’s got the moment, but the filmic context is gone, and it’s just awkward but earnest. He gets credit for the trying, not the succeeding.

Both the Company and the future Soviets are experimenting on the alien eggs they’ve got. The future Soviets—the U.P.P., yeah, you know me—are working on an alien embryo; the Company scientists are just growing tiny versions of the alien eggs. When there’s the inevitable containment problem, it’s entirely unclear what happens. Christmas’s art has a lot more personality than it needs for a traditional comic adaptation. It’s pretty good art.

But Christmas isn’t good at the action layouts. They’re confusing. With personality.

The issue ends with the station staff getting together and telling Hicks about the bad Company weapons division people. Next issue it’ll be important. This issue was about getting the supporting cast arranged and bringing an alien into Alien 3.

I’m not sure how Christmas will wrap this one up in time. He’s only got two more issues, and he’s barely into the second act. More movie adaptation tricks, no doubt, but it’s still bizarre to have Sigourney Weaver sleep through Alien 3. Even if it’s on purpose, it seems like it’s not.

A Walk Through Hell (2018) #10

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I’m not sure this issue takes more than five minutes to read—there’s a lot of dialogue to pad it out—and, at this point in A Walk Through Hell, it’s fine. The shorter the read, the better.

It’s a flashback issue to FBI agent McGregor’s high school years and something terrible. But the something terrible isn’t the point; instead, it’s the follow-up to the something terrible, so another flashback to some years later. It’s an authentic look at futility and man’s inhumanity to man, but it’s also utterly pointless.

As Shaw watches this flashback unfold—it’s unclear how she’s experiencing the flashback, though McGregor is changing shape and age in front of her—she pleads with Patton Oswalt John Doe to make it stop. He keeps telling her he’s not in control of people being shitty to one another.

The flashback’s maybe unpredictable for people who haven’t ever watched a TV show, movie, or read a story about straight people being shitty to gay people. But it’s relatively standard—going back to the eighties at this point—and writer Garth Ennis doesn’t bring anything new to it. The flashback doesn’t inform McGregor at all, though Shaw defending him is… I don’t think it rises to interesting, but it’s something. Though it’s something Ennis uses to fill out another forty-five seconds of read time.

Goran Sudžuka’s art is smoother than usual, even with the thinner lines. He’s gotten a handle on it, even as the series has meandered in circles.

Of course, there is no resolution to last issue’s cliffhanger, but I’m guessing Ennis will do another big surprise reveal cliffhanger at the end of next issue, only to reveal it’s not really what’s up in the final issue.

I don’t think A Walk Through Hell was supposed to refer to reading the comic, but it comes close. While not a complete failure, it’s a waste of time and expense, just not incompetent.

A Walk Through Hell (2018) #9

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Umm.

I feel bad for writer Garth Ennis. I feel bad he did this issue. There are desperate ways to stretch out a series, to pad an issue, to make the right count for a trade. But somehow, Ennis surpasses all of them with this unconditional waste of time issue.

I feel bad for Goran Sudžuka having to draw it. Either this issue will mean a little something for Director Driscoll’s character development, or it’ll mean nothing for her character development. She’s the best character Ennis has created for the series, but it’s not a high bar to clear.

This issue’s a flashback to Driscoll getting the dirt on the bad guy from extra-curricular sources. It’s less information than we got about the bad guy during his “confession” last issue, and having Driscoll be able to verify those statements will either matter or it won’t. Probably won’t.

So why do an issue all about it? To get to twelve for the series.

Doing redundant issues in a limited series is bad enough, but to do them one after the other is beneath Ennis. Or ought to be.

Despite all those complaints, Sudžuka’s art is better than it has been for ages. Maybe locking him in a dark warehouse or an interrogation room isn’t the best use of his talents. He and Ennis could do a killer “lady FBI boss and the shitty sexists she works with” procedural.

It’s such a waste of an issue; however, it helps the series somewhat. Ennis basically axed an issue, making the already tedious series one issue shorter, albeit one you still bought, still read, but can just chalk up to being suckered by comic credits.

Only three to go.

A Walk Through Hell (2018) #8

It’s a very talky, very unpleasant issue. Walk Through Hell has been gross before, it’s been mean before, but this issue, writer Garth Ennis turns it up to eleven. The bad guy—who maybe thinks he’s the Anti-Christ (we don’t get there yet, which will seem like burying the lede)—recounts his life history, starting with killing his family and heading off to juvenile detention, where all sorts of bad things happen.

Ennis puts a lot of work into the writing. He structures it as a confession to the FBI agents, with the McGregor guy reacting when it’s time to tone down the intensity or at least take a break. It becomes a recurring narrative pattern, which sets up the cliffhanger, though it’s the first time I wasn’t ready for a Walk to end. The reveals are, if not actually engaging, interesting enough after sitting through the previous six issues. Something might finally matter.

There’s a flashback scene for female FBI agents Shaw and Driscoll, where they talk about the 2016 election—possibly as a sign it’s time for the Old Gods to return and destroy the world (I mean…)—and some day drinkers try to pick them up. It’s an odd bit of professionalism drama in the comic, though it later makes sense why Ennis was doing it. And it nicely passes Bechdel until the intrusive dudes.

But Walk is clearly never not going to be a mess. Ennis is bound and determined to create another comic George Clooney would toss aside with a “who would ever want to read that,” only not one where Ennis is going to prove him wrong. It’s an exercise in measured excess, not really pushing the envelope, just doing different shocks.

The Goran Sudžuda art is fine. The content’s so intentionally revolting it’d be weird if the art visualizing it were better.

Even as I’m curious about what Ennis’s got up his sleeve, I can’t wait for this one to finish up. It’s tedious being so constantly horrified.