I haven’t talked about Deodato’s tendency towards wide faces because there have been more interesting things to talk about. Not anymore. Sadly, Jones’s stalling has continued and gotten worse–this issue and the previous easily could have been wrapped into one.
What happens this issue? Bruce finds out about the girl, whose motives are simple and noirish but way too small for such a big story, and the Abomination gets out.
The problem’s how Deodato breaks out the story. He doesn’t have a good way of visualizing Banner’s forced hallucinations, he doesn’t have a good way of visualizing the Abomination’s rampage. Yes, he can do a splash page of destruction, but there’s no gravitas to it. There’s no sense of mood. Sure, the art’s dark, but dark isn’t mood.
The cliffhanger promises a final issue to the story arc. Hopefully Jones can correct the series’s decline once he’s done here.
C
CREDITS
Dark Mind, Dark Hearts, Part Four: Enemy Mine; writer, Bruce Jones; artist, Mike Deodato Jr.; colorist, Studio F; letterers, Richard Starkings and Wes Abbott; editors, Warren Simons, John Miesegaes and Axel Alonso; publisher, Marvel Comics.
So Ed Brisson gets the job of sending the original Robocop into the sunset. My first thought–he does an admirable job, though he could have easily turned it into three issues. He’s got a lot of ideas for how to bring things together. And that spark, even if it’s hilarious fan fulfillment, leads me to my second thought.
Even with some great Gil Kane art, the last issue of Atari Force is a tad meager a finish for the series. Kane doesn’t have to suffer through a lot of video game-type space action, but there’s some and it’s too much.
Leo–see, only took me ten issues to remember his name–is now under control of his other-dimensional evil self who’s trying to figure what’s happened. I can’t quite remember the fill-in explaining everything, but the villains are just criminals brainwashed and dumbed on regular Earth?
Jones slows down the pace a lot. Deodato gets to draw the Hulk for a while and the Abomination is still an undetermined factor in the story–Jones and Deodato are laying on the ominous foreshadowing–but it’s a breather of an issue. Bruce bonds with Nadia, who is also warming to him. Even though she’s working with the villains.
Strange thing about this issue… I think Brubaker’s started worrying about whether or not Velvet is likable. He makes her sympathetic right off with her recap of the aftermath of the previous issue’s soft cliffhanger. She recounts having sympathy herself for the abused Russian wife.
Andru’s back for exactly the type of comic I expected with the title Atari Force. It’s roughly eighteen pages–I’m not counting the double-page spreads–and most of those pages is like watching someone else play a video game. Only it’s an Atari game, so the designs are pretty childish. (Not to knock Atari game designers, but how many bits of graphics did they have? Two?).
Starlight is not an original idea. Goran Parlov’s composition even mimics The Incredibles when establishing the protagonist, one Duke McQueen. He’s not a John Wayne character, he’s Flash Gordon or Buck Rogers. Except he’s gotten old. His kids are selfish little pricks–again, not original–but he’s pushing through.
I do admire Jones’s dedication. He resolves my concerns over the appearance of contrivance by revealing the conspiracy to be even more convoluted than he had previously suggested. But he doesn’t stop with the conspiracy, he makes this issue’s plot even more convoluted and surprising.
I’m hesitant to wonder if Greg Rucka and Toni Fejzula are going to be able to maintain Veil’s success into a second issue and beyond. Fejzula’s art approximates watercolors, which is a complete disconnect from the issue’s content. Lovely watercolor panels set against the story of a woman who wakes up naked in an abandoned subway and then in a bad neighborhood.
Even though the characters are still visually bland, Atari Force gets Gil Kane on the art and he knows what he’s doing. It’s a big read instead of a long one. Writers Conway and Thomas split the issue into three chapters, but it’s more like two–there’s even a cliffhanger mid-point.
★★★½
Lapham sets up a perfectly good–by perfectly good, I mean predictable–cliffhanger and doesn’t use it. He doesn’t even use it when he’s building up to the cliffhanger. Instead, he goes with a logical choice. It’s not the most dramatic he could, it’s just the right one to do.
Oh, Bruce Jones, did you really set Bruce Banner up with the Abomination’s wife? It’s kind of a spoiler–though not really because Jones reveals it before the end of the issue (going out on a soft cliffhanger instead)–but it’s just about the most contrived thing one could imagine.
I wanted two more pages of content in this book. There’s a double-page spread for effect and it and really good effect but I still wanted two more pages. Pulido does this tour of Jennifer’s new offices where he has her and her landlord walking through a long panel… backwards, actually. They walk backwards, getting the reader to the starting point for the bottom row of panels.
Noam Chomsky it ain’t.
King Conan is a fine enough Conan comic, I suppose. Timothy Truman has the lingo down, Tomás Giorello and José Villarrubia do well on the art. It’s moody while still appropriately classical.
There’s an astounding amount of exposition this issue and very little inventive art from Stelfreeze. He does very well with what he’s got to do–the protagonist is on the run with a beguiling girl, the vampires are plotting–but none of the art really plays to Stelfreeze’s strength. At one point I even questioned whether or not he was still on the art.
The Declan Shalvey art is nice and Warren Ellis gets a kick out of some of the comic, but it’s still just another Moon Knight comic. I’m not sure if there’s anyway to make an exciting Moon Knight comic. It sure doesn’t seem like it.
This issue covers two more team members–both new members whose little origin stories come right after their introductions–and both of their stories are, once again, rather rough.
I love the way Robinson is able to use exposition–not to mention Enrique’s internal monologue–the draw the reader’s attention to particular facts. In the most extreme examples, it’s the thought process–showing the reader what they missed by not paying enough attention (though, if the reader did pay enough attention, the pleasure of the lesson wouldn’t be there). But he also uses it for the cliffhanger this issue. He agitates the reader quietly, then ends the comic. It’s a neat device.
There’s something wrong with this issue and I’m having trouble pinpointing it. Maybe how Jones bookends with what he’s doing next, maybe with how he does a talking Hulk going nuts without any explanation. I can’t believe I’m wanting for exposition, but Jones’s keeping the reader way too far away from what’s going on in Bruce’s head. Especially after an issue like this one.
Until the hard cliffhanger, which is just too jarring both in the narrative and visually, Lemire finally gets back to fulfilling Trillium’s potential.
Atari Force is immediately strange on three levels. First, it’s game tie-in to the company, not a game. Second, it’s a reduced size comic and all the art looks too spacious. Ross Amdru is clearly trying to fill things out.
The Stop Button 