This issue is another strong one for All-Star. Very strong. It gets there a tad cheaply—Golden Age Flash villain Thorn is now aggressively lethal, bumping off Keystone City randos for kicks. She’s also no dummy, knowing the Justice Society’s weaknesses (mostly the normie heroes and Green Lantern’s wood allergy); her wooden poison thorns make short work of the team on the initial confrontation, with the rest of the issue the heroes’ (attempted) response.

We also get one of the team talking about how no Justice Society hero has ever died in action before. Maybe the character in this issue will be the first, which is at least the second time a character’s made that observation in dialogue since Levitz took over, and the third actual team member who’s almost been killed during a mission. It’s strange how little anyone’s invested in this comic book.

But thanks to the downed Justice Society hero of the month, the issue plays a lot better than usual. Huntress is officially a member (Star-Spangled Kid, finally interesting, is out), and Power Girl’s back, so there are two responsible people on the mission. Flash and Green Lantern (no confirmation—either way—of their implied thruple status) are basically useless. They talk about how they wish they’d taken care of their supervillains (it’ll turn out Thorn’s got a secret partner) back in the forties, and someone then reminds them it’s been thirty years and to chill. Then they chill too much and don’t help Power Girl and Huntress fight Thorn’s gang.

The Justice Society is supposed to be the premier superhero team on Earth-Two, but the team’s always mooning and moping. Two of the members—Dr. Fate and Hawkman (who have subplots cooking)—don’t show up for the emergency call. Last issue, no one showed up for it. These are not responsible superheroes, even before we get to Flash screwing up the plan because he forgot Power Girl is a super-girl. Levitz pours the characterization for Huntress and Power Girl (albeit P.G. to a lesser extent), but he’s got no time for Flash and Green Lantern. Outside their occasional lines of dialogue, remembering their old battles with the villains, there’s no character development for them. And, frighteningly, there needs to be some.

Suddenly, Levitz has too much going on in All-Star for its own good, not a problem the book knows much about. The middle-aged heroes versus middle-aged villains could be its own thing; the young heroes having to handhold the middle-aged heroes could be its own thing. Instead, it’s a mishmash. Levitz does make time for “the women are getting things done” vibe. Making his Huntress story arc—which has her emotionally debilitated about her injured comrade—is way too dismissive. She gets lots of page time (and the cliffhanger), but it’s not good material. Especially after we open with her doing her detective thing again, which would’ve come in handy because Flash and G.L. are clearly dopey, but, of course, no.

Still, it’s an okay enough Bronze Age comic. It’s probably Staton and Layton’s best work on the comic to date, with Staton doing more with the visual pacing between panels, and Layton finding something to focus on in them. The constant threat to human life, the ticking clocks, and—credit is due—the tense visuals… It’s all right. A banner All-Star.

Again, big thanks to that particular team member who’s unconsciously almost the entire issue.

Even leaving aside the delightful implication Green Lantern and the Flash are sharing a bedroom as part of GL’s rehabilitation (Joan does not appear, wink wink), this issue of All-Star once again succeeds thanks to the absence of the Justice Society.

The issue opens with Huntress, Star-Spangled Kid, and Wildcat fighting the Strike Force at Gotham Stadium. We’ll get a little about Earth-2 Gotham City’s political shenanigans and—apparently—continued crime problems in the exposition, but writer Paul Levitz is just filling out the text boxes before the big reveal about the Strike Force. They’re financed by a large private family fortune, with a familiar name attached to it, and it’s going to change All-Star Comics forever.

Presumably.

Before that character’s declaration of a new dawn at the end of the comic, Levitz has to get us through Huntress’s unmasking and Star-Spangled Kid’s rescue. Huntress and Wildcat leave Kid to go off and get more help from the Justice Society. Too bad literally all of them are too busy to answer the call. The comic checks in on the aforementioned Green Lantern and Flash, as well as Superman, Hawkman and Hawkgirl, Power Girl, Dr. Fate, and Dr. Mid-Nite. Levitz acknowledges there are, like, ten other heroes they could be checking in on, too, who are also too busy to save the world.

Because even without Psycho Pirate brainwashing them all into being jerks, the Justice Society all still feel like they aren’t responsible for the safety of the planet they’re sworn to protect. With great power comes little responsibility.

Anyway.

Wildcat and Huntress will try to get a rescue squad together and fail. Along the way, Wildcat will notice—it takes a while because he’s a blockhead—Huntress knows way too much about Justice Society policies and procedures to just be a random superhero. She reveals her secret identity to him, along with some implications about her backstory rather than information, and they get back to the task at hand.

Huntress is going to figure out the solution to their problems thanks to good old-fashioned comic book detective work—meaning noticing something amiss and it turning out to be the singular clue—but it’s a nice change from the normal bickering fifty-somethings. Don’t worry—despite over a dozen issues working with Power Girl, Wildcat still doesn’t like headstrong young women, so the issue retains some of that series flavor.

Outside of him being a lacking (but far from the worst, actually) sidekick, the Huntress and Wildcat Hour is fine. Penciller Joe Staton, somewhat assisted by inker Bob Layton, has a handful of decent action panels. The artists put the work in on the emphasis panels and hurry through the medium- or long-shots (they’ll go from the issue’s art highlight immediately to a proportionally challenged splash page). But, again, it’s relatively fine superhero comics. Levitz is engaged with the Huntress, and the artists are flexing (as much as they can).

The Strike Force is still embarrassingly silly for all involved, of course, between their origin and their gadgets (laser tanks and such). It’s an okay comic, which isn’t bad for All-Star.

Last issue, writer Paul Levitz found a Hallmark moment amid the chaotic infighting of quinquagenarian white male superheroes and their surrogate daughter (Power Girl), whom they all berate or dismiss. Sole exception: Dr. Fate; respect. Though maybe not once we get to the end of this issue, but then, grace.

Anyway.

It was a watershed moment for the series. It was a good comic and not because it was Wally Wood doing Flash Gordon-esque Justice Society. So it’s unfortunate this issue features villains out of a toy commercial. They’re an elite team of super-criminals in tactical gear with laser guns, and they’re also elitist. They mock the cops for being poors. They are… the Strike Force.

If it were campy or corny, it’d be better, because then there’d be something to talk about. Instead, there’s not. Levitz is either checked out or trying to be condescending to fourth graders in a comic book aimed at a thirty-something (or older) audience? It’s bewildering. And not the progression one would hope after last issue.

But it’s All-Star, so it’s been worse.

The issue opens with a direct continuation of last issue, but instead of having soul-searching monologues, the assorted heroes—after pummeling one another for most of last issue—are having a Justice Society guest-star get-together. There’s too much with Superman (he’s oddly charmless without that Golden Age face) and not enough with Wonder Woman. It’s like there was a Wonder Woman editor yelling at her to get out of the comic. But after the cool kids leave (in addition to the Trinity, this means (yet again twerpy) Robin, Starman, Hourman, and Dr. Mid-Nite, who should not be the cool kids), the regular cast decides it’s time to take a week off. Hawkman hasn’t been there for his recently kidnapped wife, Dr. Fate’s got to Dr. Fate, Green Lantern needs a new job, which Flash is giving him before taking Joan on vacation.

They leave Power Girl, Star-Spangled Kid, and Wildcat in charge because none of them have any lives outside superheroing. Kid immediately takes their assignment to mean turning off the monitors and having a day off to play board games. Wildcat’s already been whining about bad life decisions, so Power Girl leaves. She’ll go actively superhero instead of mope, taking with her a follow-up to last issue. But go read Showcase.

Levitz is falling right back into what made the comic so annoying—they’re either actively jerks or, at least, wanting company. Kid and Wildcat go to the bar, leaving Huntress to come in—still in shadow but with a boot visible now. They’re going to go get in trouble at a bar, then go fight the bad guys. They were on the monitor just as Kid turned it off, but Huntress has seen them. So we’re going to get the regular cast with Huntress in for Power Girl (but in her own thread), along with a check-in with Dr. Fate, who has been unintentionally imprisoning his wife for almost forty years—more next issue on that one (sort of).

But the main plot is the Strike Force wreaking havoc, because apparently, Police Commissioner Bruce Wayne is also taking the day off and doesn’t deploy the cops with the Kryptonian killers. And it’s all pretty bad stuff. The Huntress stuff is the best, but it’s also not the Strike Force or the regular cast, meaning it’s a little unfair to compare.

Disappointing after last issue.

This issue’s writer Paul Levitz’s magnum opus on the book so far. It’s an action-packed issue—most of the pages are just Justice Society members fighting, whether amongst themselves in the Batcave (holy set-piece, Batman!) or against the Gotham P.D. The cops zap Power Girl with some seventies Earth-Two ray guns and almost kill her; is the reaction for the cops to then try to kill all the superheroes? Earth-Two might not have Apartheid South Africa, but it’s still got killer cops.

Cops versus Justice Society comes after some catch-up. While the heroes found out last All-Star Psycho Pirate had been controlling them and making them dicks, they then had their annual team-up adventure with the Justice League. So they’re just now having a chance to debrief and process. Someone’s trying to console Green Lantern and points out he just saved the world; Lantern whinges about it not being Earth-Two he saved. Psycho Pirate clearly didn’t give him that voluminous gallantry.

After a little more poor communication, the team ends up in their headquarters, where Police Commissioner Bruce Wayne is waiting with his laser gun-armed cops. The Kryptonian casualty leads to fisticuffs and retreat—at this point in the comic, even though the cover promises the JSA in-fighting (and an all-new team member)—it’s a visual miss. Penciller Joe Staton will get to do better work, but he and inker Bob Layton fumble the first showdown.

Things start to improve after there’s a “Batman slapping Robin but for a gag” moment (also, Levitz writes Dick Grayson’s obsequiousness at eleven; he’s a twerp), and then the mystery guest star appears to surveil the retreated Society. They’ve gone to a secret Gothamland hospital for superheroes. The mood’s effective, even if the scene ends with the observer noting the “good guy” superheroes are acting maliciously.

One could put in a pin in that item, but—at least as far as this issue goes—one shouldn’t bother. Levitz throws in big red herrings multiple times just to get to the finish. The narrative contortions he successfully puts this issue through are wild. Especially considering Staton and Layton; their work is much better with the set-piece fight scene, but they’ve still got their limits. They have a good issue: the mystery observer’s second appearance is probably their best work (on the book together), and they can sell the melodramatic ending.

The story has Dr. Fate leading the stars of this comic book against Commissioner Wayne, Robin, Hourman, Starman, Dr. Mid-Nite, and Wonder Woman. Whenever All-Star has needed a body, the writer has thrown in a character from the latter group. Robin even started this All-Star comeback; he was on the original Super-Squad. And Dr. Mid-Nite almost died once—or was it Hourman—it was at least one and probably both.

They’re all of a sudden not second-stringers—Batman’s Red Shirts more than hold their own against the “good guys,” with Robin refusing to listen (and fighting dirty as hell), and Wonder Woman trying to get Green Lantern to chill out and let her lasso him. Starman and Star-Spangled Kid have a bad interchange, considering Kid’s supposed to be Starman’s legacy hero or whatever. But at least Levitz tries. And it gives Staton variety in the intricate fight scenes. So much foreground and background going on.

The finale’s not a surprise, other than what threads Levitz does and doesn’t bring in.

For All-Star, maybe the most successful issue ever. Is there any reason to believe next issue isn’t someone else being revealed to be under Psycho-Pirate’s control? No, but this issue does earn it some hope.

Writer Paul Levitz makes a twelfth-level intelligence move with this issue; it’s not a great script—Wildcat’s “docks” accent is forever obnoxious—and the stakes are haywire, but the reveal is about the only way All-Star could move forward.

Psycho-Pirate has been micro-dosing the Justice Society with negativity for ages. How long? Long enough to cover all their jerk moves in All-Star, which started in the first issue with the sexism? Don’t ask, just be glad it’s getting resolved. Presumably.

And, at first, it doesn’t seem like they’re resolving anything. The heroes get back home from last issue and start bickering with Dr. Fate, who’s got no time for their malarkey. Power Girl then reminds them they’re supposed to act like teammates, and Flash whinges about it. Luckily, Fate’s got a mission to interrupt them–stopping Green Lantern from destroying the Gotham International Airport.

Lantern’s destroying the airport in an attempt to extort money from the city, which hasn’t done enough to appreciate him as a superhero over the years. The big team fight reveals Psycho-Pirate as the real villain, and he and Green Lantern escape to parts unknown.

After another team member defects to the other side, the good guys figure out where they’re hiding and mount an offensive.

The subplot for the issue is Dick Grayson and Hourman getting back to Gotham City and meeting up with Police Commissioner Bruce Wayne, whose fears about Green Lantern breaking bad now seem founded. Of course, Wayne’s on a righteous crusade, and he may be blinded to the truth (hopefully it won’t turn good men cruel). If he’s even willing to listen. All-Star frequently hinges on this team of superheroes refusing to communicate with one another; maybe it’s just the way Earth Two works.

The way Levitz has gotten the comic working has been fairly simple—if this issue does prove a turning point, anyway–because the whole thing hinges on Dr. Fate, who doesn’t have the most personality. But then no one has personality, except general sexism on the part of the boys, with some dismissiveness of the youth thrown in for good measure. Power Girl and Fate “lead” the team and feature into most of the action—one forgets Star-Spangled Kid is even there—but they’re not the leads of the story. The characters have lost their personal stakes, which allows Levitz to make every issue a good jumping on (or off) point.

Even if the actual content of the comic, good storytelling mechanics aside, is still fifty-something white guys yelling at those damned kids, while always being proven wrong.

Also this issue, throw in penciller Joe Staton committing to showcasing Power Girl’s… ahem… physique more. Except only in action scenes where she’s just taken a hit. Because there’s always got to be something else off; Staton and inker Bob Layton don’t bring much, but they do make one forget Wally Wood was ever on this book.

Still—thanks to Levitz—the book seems poised for a not negative turn. Fingers crossed.

For this issue of “your favorite Golden Age superheroes hate working with each other and helping people in general,” the bickering is once again the main plot. The story opens with Power Girl trying to convince Wildcat and Star-Spangled Kid to investigate a giant hole in the Earth where the supervillains were suspiciously hanging out. The subterranean creatures who come out of the hole and attack the heroes convinces Star-Spangled Kid he doesn’t want to investigate.

Power Girl has to knock him out to get him to go quietly. He had been arguing for going into the giant hole because he thought Wildcat was just being an old sexist during that first argument (of three or four throughout) with Power Girl. What changed Kid’s mind? Apparently, there definitely being bad guys in the hole. It’s unclear. The issue occasionally feels like writer Paul Levitz can’t keep track of the heroes’ petty grievances, which makes sense. The bickering never leads to anything, even when it’s potentially deadly.

But before that level of bad teamwork, there’s Bruce Wayne’s plot line. He’s now the Gotham City Police Commissioner, and he’s got city leaders upset Green Lantern is having hissy fits and causing property damage. Wayne’s conservative in his plans, cautious. He assumes bringing in Golden Age superhero Green Lantern for police questioning will lead to Green Lantern killing police officers to avoid capture. How chill.

Robin sends Wayne a telegram about how all the Justice Society members are acting like a bunch of jerks, which just confirms Wayne’s suspicions. Of the heroes being jerks and bad teammates. There’s no higher drama.

Back in the main story, Power Girl activates her distress beacon, calling the team away from a nosy Robin and their latest hospitalized teammate. Flash, Hawkman, and Doctor Fate go down to help, but then Doctor Fate leaves immediately upon arrival. Presumably, Fate knew the “Middle Earth” adventure was less important than him going to visit Commissioner Wayne and telling Wayne to relax. Wayne’s internal turmoil over his friends being a bunch of jerks is unsettling the cosmic balance.

Once the team meets up, Flash and Hawkman decide they’re not going to help Power Girl, after all. They don’t think going into the hole to investigate the supervillains was a good idea. So she can just go get killed to learn her lesson.

Things do get to a more positive resolution, but only because Levitz manages to make Power Girl wrong in her reckless behavior despite being the only responsible adult. He doesn’t write anyone chastising her for that behavior, at least, which is a not insignificant win for this strange comic book about quinquagenarian misanthropes.

If I take back the things I said about Wally Wood being mid last issue, can he come back retroactively and save me from Joe Staton and Bob Layton? We can keep Paul Levitz finding his sexism towards Power Girl and embracing it: turns out he needed Star-Spangled Kid to creep on her like a lech.

But Levitz does get a couple points for Earth-Two (maybe not when Gerry Conway was writing the book, incidentally) no longer having an apartheid South Africa. The exposition also mentions superheroes started on Earth-Two in the forties, not the fifties; maybe the extra ten years ground out the fascist, racist trash.

Anyway. Back to Joe Staton and Bob Layton. Staton’s figures are often bewildering, and Layton inks into the “curve.” There are a handful of okay close-ups, including Bruce Wayne (who seems to be a character Levitz might actually want to write; time will tell), but the bodies—and especially the extremities—are bad; real bad.

Levitz opens the issue in a flash-forward so he can wrap up the cliffhanger from last time (no Shining Knight, again; his agent obviously told him to stay away from All-Star Comics), which basically means Superman going off on his own so he won’t just save the day. Before Superman leaves, Power Girl is not nice enough to him, and she regrets it. However, she does not regret whining there are too many male heroes for her to compete with.

These character moments are nowhere near the most unpleasant. Star-Spangled Kid gropes her and gets away with it, then at one point pervs on her instead of saving Wildcat. It’s a lot. Especially since Kid’s in the silly power belt (and also, the colorist at one point gives him white outside undies), he’s just a creep—and Levitz’s lead character on that plot line.

The story has the JSA trying to save Hourman and Wildcat; the reunited Injustice Society has captured them. Injustice Society’s been after the heroes for a few issues now, starting during Conway’s tenure, and one has to wonder if their motivations were always the same. Levitz hasn’t got a lot of time for them. They’re disposable, easy-to-defeat villains, especially once Dr. Fate comes back.

Levitz also seems to like writing Dr. Fate, who he characterizes as taking over the human host with no concern for its well-being, even having Mrs. Dr. Fate plead with Fate not to leave. It’s an all-right bit.

All things considered.

The ending sets up (adult) Robin coming back into the book–maybe—while Power Girl, Kid, and Wildcat (the book’s most obnoxious grouping, presumably worse now) going on an adventure together.

Swell.