Black Panther (1998) #7

Bp7It’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.

Hitman: Closing Time (1999-2007)

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Hitman: Closing Time opens the only way it can (or should) following the previous collection’s gut-wrenching conclusion, which saw Tommy’s surrogate father, Sean, die protecting him. It starts with a Lobo crossover. And writer Garth Ennis spends the entire issue shitting on Lobo. It’s a done-in-one crossover with art from Doug Mahnke. The art’s perfectly excessive, starting with Tommy and Sean (there’s an editor’s note explaining it takes place in the past) spitting in Lobo’s beer. Lobo’s in Gotham on an interstellar bounty hunt and stops by the bar, initially annoying everyone but then becoming a problem when he starts picking on Sixpack.

Thanks to his mind-reading superpower, Tommy knows how Lobo’s super-healing works and concocts a way to take him on. It becomes a foot chase of destruction through Hitman’s Gotham, complete with gangsters and Section 8 (Sixpack’s super-team). Lots of blood, lots of laughs (almost all of them at Lobo’s expense), and a lot of nice art from Mahnke.

Sure, the resolution gag is definitionally homophobic, but if you squint and look at it from a certain point of view, it’s fine… ish. It’s also just the resolution gag; the comic needs a way to wrap up, given Tommy can’t take on an indestructible space mutant forever. The rest of the jokes are just about Lobo being a stupid character. The crossover politics of DC Comics and Hitman must be a great story.

Then there’s a short story about Sixpack’s drunk-dream adventures with Superman, art by Nelson DeCastro (pencils) and Jimmy Palmiotti (inks). It’s from a Superman 80-Page Giant and is entirely for laughs, with Sixpack arguing about superhero morality with Superman, opting for killing the bad guys. Or trying to kill them, with Big Blue having to curb Sixpack’s enthusiasm. It’s very classy art for a comic where Lex Luthor gets gut-punched for a gag.

The story placement also sets up Sixpack as a significant player in Closing Time. The Lobo crossover kicks off because of Sixpack, has him bring in Section 8, then the Superman “crossover” is entirely his story. The following story–as Closing Time starts collecting Hitman proper—is also Sixpack-focused. Sure, Tommy and Natt are chasing a naked guy through the Cauldron, but the drama is about Section 8 giving up on Sixpack’s dream of a super-team. If only there were something he could do to prove himself.

Luckily, Natt and Tommy aren’t chasing just any naked guy. He’s a lab assistant at the Injun Peak Research Center. Thanks to demonic dealings, some scientist turned him into a tesseract (the infinitely vast container variety, not the Avengers MacGuffin). The first part of the story’s split between Tommy and Natt chasing the naked guy (who can pull pretty much anything he wants right out of his you-know-what), Sixpack and his colleagues arguing about their super-team efficacy, and the bean counter discovering worse and worse details in the scientist’s practices. The science talk has Ennis’s most inventive writing, while Tommy and Natt’s chase gives artists John McCrea and Garry Leach a nice absurd, slightly gross-out comedy action sequence.

The second half of the story has more gross-out comedy action, but also actual gore as interdimensional demons find a toe-hold in our universe. Ennis does horror, comedy, heart, and action with it, finding a rather nice resolution while also revealing it’s a story out of time. While not set in the past like the opening Lobo one, it’s detached from the overall Hitman narrative. Ennis is just doing a Sixpack story in Hitman, not fitting Sixpack into a Tommy story.

The three and a half issue starting bookend and then a two-issue closer will set Closing Time’s main arc (appropriately titled Closing Time) apart from the rest of the collection, which is appropriate. The Closing Time arc, an eight-issue epic closing off the series and its so far surviving cast, is a doozy.

Mainly having resolved all the mob stuff last collection—there’s still a bounty on Tommy and Natt’s heads, but the mob itself isn’t a villain, just its hopeful hitmen—Ennis goes back to the start to find strings to tie up the series. Though he takes his time revealing where all those strings come from. Instead, he sticks to the first one he introduces–the mom who lost her kid to the vampires a while back. She’s in trouble and, if you’re lucky enough to know him, there’s no one better to help you with trouble than Tommy Monaghan. It’s a nice way to open the story, with Ennis then putting in an echoing device. That echoing device is a quick, devastating rumination on the series’s overall tragedy; great stuff. But Closing Time is just a series of great stuffs.

Starting with giving Tommy’s on-again-off-again girlfriend Tiegel a character development subplot for the arc. She doesn’t get in on the action this time, with Ennis bringing back a rogue female CIA agent as Tommy’s love interest and he and Natt’s third. The rogue CIA agent, McAllister, is one of Ennis’s archetypes—the capable female espionage agent–with McAllister being both softer and harder than he’ll go with the template in the future. It’s particularly interesting because she’s a deus ex machina too early in the plot. Most of Closing Time is about her bonding with Tommy and Natt and the supporting cast. She gets to be a regular cast member faster than anyone else in the comic ever has (though I guess Ennis never really tried with anyone else).

The story’s villain will turn out to be an evil CIA guy trying to make government superheroes with alien technology from the Bloodlines. The experiments aren’t going well, though there’s actually a lot less with the flesh-eating human monsters than I was expecting. Ennis contains most of the gore to a subplot with the lead scientist. The villain, Truman, is another returning character. McAllister’s back from the Green Lantern crossover issue, Truman’s back from early on, then there’s the main hitman nemesis, the son of a vanquished baddie. Not to mention the mom in trouble. Or the Dirty Harry-esque cop who’s promised to protect Tommy against any enemy. Lots of return appearances, all tied together thanks to Tommy. No one can escape the Cauldron.

Ennis also does a bunch of flashbacks, setting up Tommy and Natt as teenagers in the Marines and Tommy growing up in the Cauldron, which means some old Sean and Pat appearances. Ennis writes Hitman to be binge-read, not just for the callbacks to earlier in the series. The Closing Time arc is paced for a single reading. It must’ve been very frustrating DC took forever to collect it.

The Closing Time story has a good three-act structure throughout the eight installments, with some big action set pieces throughout and a whole lot of heart. Everyone gets their appropriate farewell in the comic, with Ennis grabbing the heartstrings and yanking as hard as he can. There are some hints the story’s a rushed conclusion, the occasional plot detail Ennis has to push too hard on to make fit, the things he wasn’t done exploring. But they make it work. It’s a lovely finish for the comic.

So it not being the last story in the collection is initially a little odd, especially since the coda is a JLA crossover, originally intended for the JLA Classified anthology series, which got canceled before the Hitman one ran. So instead of a four-parter, it’s a two-parter, set six years after the main series, when everyone’s fate has cemented, and an intrepid reporter has some questions about Superman’s relationship with professional hitman Tommy Monaghan, a known killer, and man of notoriously vicious and intemperate disposition. The reporter—named Kirby, with Ennis showing his soft side—interviews Superman’s de facto press agent, one Clark Kent.

At some point in the past, the Bloodlines aliens came back, and the JLA needed someone who they’d give powers for scientific reasons. So they go get Tommy and bring him to the moon, where Kyle Rayner Green Lantern’s embarrassed to know him, and Batman takes delight in telling Superman about Tommy’s profession. Ennis balances the alien threat with Superman reconciling being emotionally invested in a “bad guy” and Tommy having a blast in a superhero crossover. Some excellent writing on the characters from Ennis, who might not have wanted to write DC superheroes, but it’s too bad they didn’t convince him to do more of it.

The conclusion works as a rumination for the whole series.

McCrea pencils and inks the JLA crossover, busting ass to give it a unique, distinct feel from the regular series. Especially after Closing Time, it’s kind of hard to imagine Hitman without Leach inking McCrea. But then the crossover isn’t a Hitman comic; it’s a Superman story about Hitman.

And it just makes you want to read the whole comic, all sixty issues plus crossovers, all seven trades, all 1,600 pages, all over again. Ennis, McCrea, and Leach do one hell of a job.

Dark Horse Presents (1986) #74

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I think Madwoman would read better as a single narrative, instead of sectioned off into installments. Jordorowsky makes a major plot addition this installment–the protagonist hallucinates his younger self as an advisor when it comes to being inappropriate with one of his students–and it just changes the tone completely from the last entry. The content might more fit Moebius… but the writing is nowhere near as strong.

Then there’s The Chairman, from Moore and Robinson. Robinson is not ready to be illustrating professionally. His figures are loose, his action is awful… Dark Horse has been publishing good artists in Presents (or at least recognized ones) for quite a while. Robinson is step back. Of course, Moore’s writing is really dumb, sci-fi stuff; they just don’t care.

The Eudaemon story finishes here. Nelson’s art will have these fine panels, then terrible ones. But the writing… wow, it stinks.

Dark Horse Presents (1986) #73

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The Madwoman is growing on me. Moebius’s artwork is solid throughout, maybe not the best thing for a talking heads story, but Jordorowsky keeps getting better. The story–and the reason for the title to include Madwoman–is becoming more and more clear. It’s no longer a boring academia story, it’s now a quirky academia story. I’m not sure how many installments are left, but it’s getting good.

Hopefully, Dominique ends this issue. Balent’s losing the ability to properly show perspective–the first page of the story is almost incomprehensible, as he also is making his male characters appear female. Not intentionally, just out of laziness. It’s wrong to blame Balent for Dominique being awful though… the writing is at fault. Charles and Lisa Moore are inane. The story couldn’t end fast enough.

As for Nelson’s Eudaemon? It’s just as dumb as ever, with lots of lazy art. Icky bad.

Dark Horse Presents 74 (June 1993)

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I think Madwoman would read better as a single narrative, instead of sectioned off into installments. Jordorowsky makes a major plot addition this installment–the protagonist hallucinates his younger self as an advisor when it comes to being inappropriate with one of his students–and it just changes the tone completely from the last entry. The content might more fit Moebius… but the writing is nowhere near as strong.

Then there’s The Chairman, from Moore and Robinson. Robinson is not ready to be illustrating professionally. His figures are loose, his action is awful… Dark Horse has been publishing good artists in Presents (or at least recognized ones) for quite a while. Robinson is step back. Of course, Moore’s writing is really dumb, sci-fi stuff; they just don’t care.

The Eudaemon story finishes here. Nelson’s art will have these fine panels, then terrible ones. But the writing… wow, it stinks.

CREDITS

The Chairman, Part One; story by Charles Moore; art by Andrew Robinson; lettering by Pat Brosseau. The Madwoman of the Sacred Heart, Part Five; script by Alexandro Jordorowsky; art by Moebius; lettering by Dave Cooper. The Eudaemon, Night of Fear, Part Three; story and art by Nelson DeCastro; lettering by Steve Dutro. Edited by Randy Stradley.

Dark Horse Presents 73 (May 1993)

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The Madwoman is growing on me. Moebius’s artwork is solid throughout, maybe not the best thing for a talking heads story, but Jordorowsky keeps getting better. The story–and the reason for the title to include Madwoman–is becoming more and more clear. It’s no longer a boring academia story, it’s now a quirky academia story. I’m not sure how many installments are left, but it’s getting good.

Hopefully, Dominique ends this issue. Balent’s losing the ability to properly show perspective–the first page of the story is almost incomprehensible, as he also is making his male characters appear female. Not intentionally, just out of laziness. It’s wrong to blame Balent for Dominique being awful though… the writing is at fault. Charles and Lisa Moore are inane. The story couldn’t end fast enough.

As for Nelson’s Eudaemon? It’s just as dumb as ever, with lots of lazy art. Icky bad.

CREDITS

The Madwoman of the Sacred Heart, Part Four; script by Alexandro Jordorowsky; art by Moebius; lettering by Dave Cooper. Dominique, The Hardest Part, Part Three; story by Charles Moore and Lisa Moore; script by Charles Moore; art and lettering by Jim Balent. The Eudaemon, Night of Fear, Part Two; story and art by Nelson DeCastro; lettering by Steve Dutro. Edited by Randy Stradley.

Dark Horse Presents (1986) #72

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What a disaster.

Madwoman is probably the best entry overall and even it’s pretty weak. Moebius is drawing a melodrama–it’s a soap opera and not a visually interesting one. Once the talking heads section passes, there’s some nice design at least. He’s always capable, but it’s sort of pointless. Jordorowsky has one rather excellent scene, but he immediately follows it with a lousy one.

Nelson’s Highlander with monsters epic, Eudaemon, has decent enough art and terrible writing. Dark Horse Presents hasn’t published such bad writing in a while–it’s hard to get through a page without snickering. Nelson’s exposition is particularly bad.

The final story, Dominique, finishes the issue on a low point. Balent starts fine, but then gets weaker and weaker. First his anatomy goes, then his faces. It starts, visually, fine and ends bad. The writing is somewhere between weak and dumb.

It’s a very bad issue.

Dark Horse Presents 72 (April 1993)

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What a disaster.

Madwoman is probably the best entry overall and even it’s pretty weak. Moebius is drawing a melodrama–it’s a soap opera and not a visually interesting one. Once the talking heads section passes, there’s some nice design at least. He’s always capable, but it’s sort of pointless. Jordorowsky has one rather excellent scene, but he immediately follows it with a lousy one.

Nelson’s Highlander with monsters epic, Eudaemon, has decent enough art and terrible writing. Dark Horse Presents hasn’t published such bad writing in a while–it’s hard to get through a page without snickering. Nelson’s exposition is particularly bad.

The final story, Dominique, finishes the issue on a low point. Balent starts fine, but then gets weaker and weaker. First his anatomy goes, then his faces. It starts, visually, fine and ends bad. The writing is somewhere between weak and dumb.

It’s a very bad issue.

CREDITS

The Eudaemon, Night of Fear, Part One; story and art by Nelson DeCastro; lettering by Steve Dutro. The Madwoman of the Sacred Heart, Part Three; script by Alexandro Jordorowsky; art by Moebius; lettering by Dave Cooper. Dominique, The Hardest Part, Part Two; story by Charles Moore and Lisa Moore; script by Charles Moore; art and lettering by Jim Balent. Edited by Randy Stradley.

Spider-Man/Human Torch (2005) #3

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And the coloring problems return. Not quite as bad, but whoever’s doing it–there’s no name just Sotocolor–thought adding three dimensions with color shading was a good idea.

And is wrong.

But it’s hard to care, because the series just gets better issue to issue. Here, Slott marries two very disparate elements of Spider-Man history–he relieves Peter’s depression following Gwen’s death with the lunacy of the Spider-Man toys. The Amazing Spider-Mobile, or whatever it was called, will probably never be used so artistically again. Or the fruit pies. What Slott does with the fruit pies is just fantastic.

There’s not as much emphasis on the Human Torch here, except as a true friend to Spidey. Slott writes this lovely scene with Peter (in mask) telling Johnny all about Gwen’s death. And even though the issue is–relatively–light, the whole weight of Peter’s secret identity is clear.

Maybe the series’s first great issue.

Spider-Man / Human Torch 3 (May 2005)

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And the coloring problems return. Not quite as bad, but whoever’s doing it–there’s no name just Sotocolor–thought adding three dimensions with color shading was a good idea.

And is wrong.

But it’s hard to care, because the series just gets better issue to issue. Here, Slott marries two very disparate elements of Spider-Man history–he relieves Peter’s depression following Gwen’s death with the lunacy of the Spider-Man toys. The Amazing Spider-Mobile, or whatever it was called, will probably never be used so artistically again. Or the fruit pies. What Slott does with the fruit pies is just fantastic.

There’s not as much emphasis on the Human Torch here, except as a true friend to Spidey. Slott writes this lovely scene with Peter (in mask) telling Johnny all about Gwen’s death. And even though the issue is–relatively–light, the whole weight of Peter’s secret identity is clear.

Maybe the series’s first great issue.

CREDITS

Auto Motives; writer, Dan Slott; penciller, Ty Templeton; inkers, Nelson DeCastro and Tom Palmer; colorist, Sotocolor; letterer, Dave Lanphear; editors, Andy Schmidt, Stephanie Moore, Molly Lazer and Tom Brevoort; publisher, Marvel Comics.