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Black Panther (1998) #5
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!
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Legion of Super-Heroes (1980) #267
Writer Gerry Conway maintains his enthusiasm through this Legion entry, though he doesn’t have as many pages as usual to fill. Paul Kupperberg writes a backup—with pencils from Steve Ditko!–and eight fewer pages is what Conway needs.He also gets to break away from the Legion story for a few pages to explore a planetary mining operation, where the women are the fighter pilots because dudes just aren’t suited for that kind of work. Conway starts the issue letting Duo Damsel save the day from last issue’s cliffhanger, and—even though there’s occasional cringe—he seems to like writing strong women more than annoying guys.
And the starfighters versus giant space genie sequence has better art than the space superhero pages. Jim Janes pencils the feature, with Dave Hunt on inks (Hunt also inks Ditko on the backup). Janes’s visual pacing on the battle might be his best work to date on Legion. I certainly can’t remember anything else comparable.
The genie’s attacking the mining colony because he’s only been awake a few hours, and he’s seen humanity infest the stars, greedily strip-mining the cosmos. No lies detected.
Conway also reveals the genie’s origin, which involves the Guardians (the Green Lantern Guardians), who imprisoned an entire species to little bottles and flung them out to various worlds in the galaxy. Just like the strip-mining, it’s a little weird how the book tries to present the Guardians as the good guys. Instead, they seem like thoughtless dicks.
And if they’re not thoughtless, they’re certainly not particularly prescient. Patronizing, maybe.
After Duo Damsel’s very wordy rescue mission—she has thought balloons for almost her entire sequence, the female star fighter, and the genie origin, Conway’s only got time for the action finale and wrap-up. He does all right. It’s a little silly, but Conway never gets bored, and he doesn’t seem to loathe any of the characters he’s writing, which is nice.
The backup’s a mixed bag. Maybe half of Ditko’s panels are fun Silver Age-ish ones; then the other half is a little lazy. Hunt’s inks hold the line (no pun) for about half the story, then figures start getting very loose. There’s still some good composition, even if the story itself is incredibly confusing. It’s the origin of the Legion flight rings and Kupperberg overwrites Brainiac 5 and the exposition dumps.
If one’s interested enough in the curiosity of Ditko illustrating, the art alone can carry the story—until the mealy-mouthed exposition at the end—but it’s a disappointment. Not just compared to the surprisingly adequate feature but also the backup’s first couple pages. Everything’s clicking (relatively) before it breaks down.
Still, a pretty decent issue for Legion.
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Do a Powerbomb (2022) #5
Creator Daniel Warren Johnson outdoes himself with this issue of Do a Powerbomb. It’s an almost entirely action issue, with Lona and Cobrasun fighting for the championship. The winner gets to resurrect a dead person of their choice—in Lona and Cobrasun’s case, her mom and his wife (actually, it’s unclear if they were married). Lona still doesn’t know Cobrasun’s her father; she assumes he’s helping resurrect her mom because he feels bad about killing her.I mean, he does feel bad about killing her (during a wrestling match), but there’s so much context. And all of it surrounds the characters as they decide to have a potential fight to the death for the championship. They don’t want the traditional rules—especially since their opponents are from a universe where pro wrestling isn’t staged. They want to be able to fight anywhere in the arena, they don’t want to have to tag in, and they want to use, well, weapons. Barbed wire baseball bats, barbed wire folding chairs. Pretty much anything they can use to cause some damage.
Cobrasun has been fighting in these kind of matches for a decade (or so), but it’s Lona’s first time. She’s scared. Johnson bakes that fear into the greater context. It’s a wrestling match action issue, complete with a ring announcer and wrestling moves, but it’s not just the final match; it’s also so much more dangerous than usual. Even for Powerbomb.
The action’s a truly superb balance between the pro-wrestling theatrics, the additional danger to the wrestlers, as well as the overarching tensions of the comic itself. Johnson teases at Lona and Cobrasun’s opponents’ backstory vise-a-vie needing someone resurrected but waits until the cliffhanger to delineate. In doing so, he introduces an entirely integrated subplot with just a couple issues left.
Powerbomb’s exceptional work.
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The Naked Kiss (1964, Samuel Fuller)
The Naked Kiss is an exceptional motion picture. However, it’s never not without its problems: it’s an astoundingly classy exploitation picture about an ex-prostitute (Constance Towers) who tries going straight, only to discover the other side of the tracks just hides their secrets in different places.
The film will also explore the lack of honor (and humanity) among thieves and just how low cops will go, all while reinforcing the cops and “moral” society as worthy and everyone else as lost. Since Kiss is a character study of Towers, one could say writer, producer, and director Fuller’s message is believe women… except it turns out most women lie. Fuller’s not subtle about the message—Towers gets at least two monologues about it, while copper Anthony Eisley gets one—though I suppose the film does technically pass the Bechdel Test. Albeit due to censoring the language.
Other side of the tracks town madam Virginia Grey has “bonbon girls,” which also gives Fuller a couple opportunities to clarify in dialogue they’re not really talking about bonbons. Once the film hits the final third—Kiss is almost equally split into thirds. The first third is about Towers arriving in a small city and becoming a nurse’s aide at the local children’s hospital. The second third is about Towers’s romance with town hero Michael Dante, which is complicated by Towers’s general past as well as her single trick in town—with copper Eisley (the film’s hero who tests out all the traveling sex workers before setting them up at Grey’s, where he visits them for bonbons, presumably). The final third is Towers in trouble, learning just because Dante and the town accepted her, they might not have done it for the right reasons.
Of course, the film opens two years before the main action, with Towers beating the crap out of her pimp (a profoundly smarmy Monte Mansfield) before revealing she’s been wearing a wig and is shaved bald. The opening titles are set over Towers calmly getting her makeup on while Mansfield wallows on the floor. Kiss is never quite as in-your-face exploitation again, but Fuller never lets the audience forget where the film started.
Fuller breaks the story into vignettes, separated by fades out, which lets him establish Towers’s new persona in town offscreen. Eisley’s initially convinced Towers is doing it as some kind of weird gag—how could a sex worker want to work with kids with terrible injuries and diseases, even though everyone at the hospital says she’s a godsend. They’re all a bunch of ladies, too; they don’t know things like Eisley. Eisley’s worlds colliding changes the direction of the film in the third act, and even though it is offscreen, too, it’s clearly momentous.
Eisley’s okay. He’s a little flat, which helps since his character’s despicable, but once it’s clear he’s fallen for Towers, there’s a nice bit of depth to his actions. Especially once he’s de facto competing with Dante, who not only saved Eisley’s life in Korea but is also a millionaire who can promise Towers the world.
Kiss is rather low budget, so the world is just film strips and stylized daydream sequences. Until the second half, when Fuller can’t stop beating the drum on how Towers is only worthwhile because she got out of the bad life and everyone else there is too vile or dumb to save, it really seems like Kiss’s low-budget is going to be its Achilles Heel. While Eisley’s just a little flat, it clearly could’ve been a bigger name. Towers, too—though she’s phenomenal, so you don’t really want to see anyone else there. But then there’s Dante. Fuller’s got a lot of character actors in the supporting roles, sometimes making the thin parts more substantial, sometimes not (though usually because of the moralizing). But Dante’s usually just plain not good. He’s never terrible, but he’s sometimes bad, and he’s never any good. Watching Towers hoist their scenes up over and over looks exhausting.
Towers and Fuller are Kiss’s big achievers. He gives her a great part, problematic as it might be, and she’s outstanding. Even when she’s got to do something silly, she makes it work. It’s a superior performance. And Fuller’s direction is singular too. He uses these smash cuts to second-person shots; the camera—sometimes Towers, sometimes not—peering into someone’s face. It’s particularly devastating with the sick kids, who have an initially adorable, then infinitely macabre musical number. However, Fuller’s careful to empathize with the kids. He’s making an exploitation picture, sure, but it’s more a melodrama, after all–a didactic one at that.
Every ten to fifteen minutes—the film runs ninety—Fuller has one visually dynamic sequence or another. There’s a phenomenal synergy to the whole thing. He amps up the melodrama either through Towers’s experience of the narrative or through masterful visceral visual scenes. Great stuff.
Fuller’s crew is excellent; Stanley Cortez’s moody black and white photography is crucial, and, outside the times they reshot something but from the exact same setup, and he couldn’t cut to match, excellent editing from Jerome Thoms. Fuller, Thoms, Cortez, and composer Paul Dunlap set Kiss’s tone fast and strong while still leaving themselves room to flex throughout.
Naked Kiss has problems—heaps and heaps—but it’s one hell of a picture. And Towers is sublime.
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