Superboy and the Legion of Super-Heroes (1977) #231

Paul Levitz (script)

James Sherman (1), Michael Netzer (2) (pencils)

Jack Abel (inks)

Elizabeth Safian (colors)

Ben Oda (letters)

Joe Orlando (editor)

The Legion of Super-Heroes had cover title billing with Superboy for over thirty issues before this issue. It’s one officially titled Superboy and the Legion of Super-Heroes in the indicia. Even more—literally—they’re going up to fifty-two pages an issue. To celebrate, writer Paul Levitz, pencillers James Sherman and Michael Netzer (each handling one of the two chapters), and inker Jack Abel deliver an almost perfect space superhero epic. It holds until the very last panel, when Superboy is concerningly malevolent.

Superboy’s mad because the issue’s supervillains—the Legion’s nemesis team, the Fatal Five—have escaped death. During their escape, the Fatal Five tried to blow up the Legion, but failed. So Superboy’s grandstanding about how he’s going to make them pay in their next appearance. It just does not play.

And Levitz’s intentional in this move; earlier in the issue he characterizes Superboy’s attack on the Five’s spaceship focusing on how Superboy’s righteous anger fuels his extreme power. It both does and doesn’t stand out in the moment; Levitz is just saving up headliner Superboy for big moments (this attack is his first foray into the conflict), so it comes with a punch. But it’s also a bit of a strange vibe.

In that earlier scene, Superboy is super mad because the Five are taking advantage of a planet about to explode. According to the narration, he’s thinking about Krypton and the tragedy. It’s emotionally too much for the Boy of Steel. The Legion is on the planet, evacuating all the people, but time is running out. The psychic on the psychic planet (Levitz skates over this absurdity real fast, but there are telepaths in Legion, so sure, why not) saw the star go supernova too late.

It’s a strange spotlight, like Levitz was assuring someone, even though Legion was officially in the title, Superboy would still get featured special.

But once he’s got that first solo attempt out of his system, Superboy mostly syncs with the rest of the team. Levitz delights in his purple exposition with lots of second-person call-outs and thoughtful echoes in the prose. It never gets tedious; he and editor Joe Orlando always seem to know when the narration’s gone far enough and it’s time to focus on the art.

Because even though this issue’s a giant-sized epic featuring five distinct narratives (the evacuation, examining the star, kidnapped Legionnaires, the rescue team, and the leader of the Fatal Five’s plotting), it’s a visual delight. Sherman pencils the first half, opening on two Legionnaires happening across the Five and getting captured, then cutting to the planet-wide evacuation. Great visuals, with varied panels showing off the scale of the evacuation and the rush of the Legion’s work. But where Sherman really gets to flex is Brainiac-5 and friends’ science mission to the planet’s doomed sun; the Emerald Empress with her Emerald Eye attacks them. Thanks to Sherman and Abel—and Levitz, who doesn’t go overboard with the green theme—it’s a dangerous, thrilling fight. Empress thinks she can handle the good guys since Superboy’s not with them (she’s hot for Superboy; sadly, they never get any interaction).

The good guys have to use their specific powers in tandem to counter her successfully. Levitz loves writing about how the powers work. So he lines up action scenes so he can explain the recipe for the superpower combinations.

All with that great art. Space superheroes comics doesn’t get better.

The issue cuts back to the planet for another big action sequence, involving three of the Fatal Five and a growing number of Legionnaires who just can’t quite get an upper hand. Superboy isn’t there to help because he’s about to launch that attack on the spaceship and fail, which concludes the first chapter.

A handful of Legionnaires get a little more than the others, mostly just in dialogue, though sometimes starting a lengthy scene by themselves. It’s a small planet when you can fly, so no one’s by themselves too long.

The second half, featuring Netzer art—while not as strong as Sherman’s, is still excellent (and Netzer gets to do a fantastic, “this should be a poster” full-pager)–has the Legion figuring out the Five’s plan and how to defeat them. The reader doesn’t get all of the information on the latter, because there needs to be some surprise.

Right up until Superboy starts humming a murder ballad, it’s smooth sailing. Levitz’s reveals all drop at the right time, Netzer’s good at conveying the variety of actions (including, of course, Legionnaires with different powers fighting bad guys who have their own different powers). Even something simple like a fight between two giant-sized individuals (good guy Colossal Boy and bad guy Validus) gets complicated with all the regular-sized flying superheroes and villains weaving in and out.

It’s a stellar comic, with Levitz’s enthusiasm in the exposition carrying over the sillier future elements, and then the art starting at a high level and only getting better throughout.

DC Special (1968) #29

This special is the result of a letter to All-Star Comics about the origin of the Justice Society. Someone wrote in wondering about the canon, and, after diligently doing some research, DC staffers discovered the 1940 comics didn’t come with an origin issue for the Justice Society. The team was already together in their first appearance. So the All-Star team of writer Paul Levitz, penciller Joe Staton, inker Bob Layton, and editor Joe Orlando are doing the first-ever origin of the Justice Society of America right here.

It’s not good. It’s not a good story, let alone good origin story. Levitz front-loads the narrative, too, and not just in terms of pacing; the Spectre will eventually show up in the comic and be able to kill anyone with a glance. He will not, however, be able to impede in any way the enemy demigod Valkryies. Now, the Valkryies—the exposition boxes point out multiple times they’re German (called to Earth on the side of the Führer), though it sure sounds like they’d know Thor (and he’d be on the Nazi side). The human heroes will either be able to jostle the Valkyries easily or they will be utterly impervious to all pain and damage.

Including from the Spectre.

So there are no real stakes in the comic. Not even when it comes to the team-up value. Nine of the world’s most powerful mortals (though the Spectre and Dr. Fate aren’t really mortal) meet for the first time and it’s done without dialogue and just a bunch of handshaking. None of the heroes have much personality: Superman will be a dick, but otherwise, it’s just Dr. Fate. And only because he’s the one who knows what he’s doing. And the Atom gets a lot more dialogue in the second half than anyone else. This comic is always trying to find new levels of perfunctory.

There are a handful of solid moments. The Spectre reaching out over a Nazi fleet is cool. Except then he’s got no significant advantage fighting the Valkryies. In the exposition, Levitz routinely tracks how many heroes are fighting the good fight and how the increasing numbers and power sets never help. It’s weird. Especially when he uses it to set up Superman, who will come in and save the day, talk shit about not being some touchy-feely foreigner, which FDR will cosign, and then Supes will demand “Justice” is in the title of their club.

The art’s often odd. The Batman take is visually very Adam West, not Bob Finger. Staton and Layton do not do a good Superman. As a reader of All-Star, which had at one point Wally Wood (and Keith Giffen) doing very careful, respectful, Golden Age Superman—-it’s jarring. Not only isn’t it good, he looks forty-five.

But the Franklin Delano Roosevelt… good grief. Levitz writes FDR as a vapid jingoist while Staton draws him… puffy. Like exaggerated puffy; like a blowhard. It’s very strange. The Special feels like it’s being targeted at seven-year-olds in 1940, while acknowledging they’re in their forties now. By creators whose nostalgia—even when they bother with it—never comes off as sincere.

They do get through it, which is an accomplishment for all involved–particularly the reader—but it is a combination of wasted opportunities, bad ideas, and creative limitations.

All-Star Comics (1976) #68

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.

All-Star Comics (1976) #67

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.

All-Star Comics (1976) #66

Paul Levitz (script)

Joe Staton (pencils)

Bob Layton (inks)

Elizabeth Safian (colors)

Joe Orlando (editor)

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.

All-Star Comics (1976) #65

Paul Levitz, Paul Kupperberg (script)

Wally Wood (pencils, inks, plot)

Al Sirois (inks)

Elizabeth Safian (colors)

Ben Oda (letters)

Joe Orlando (editor)

I spoke too soon. Paul Levitz is back to solely dialogue this issue, with artist Wally Wood contributing to the plot. Presumably, then, it was Wood’s idea to do this issue of The Legendary Justice Society of America in All-Star Comics with the Super Squad as a Golden Age Superman comic. Some of the other heroes get page time, mostly Star-Spangled Kid it works out, but it’s just a Superman comic. Only it’s Superman as icon, not character.

The issue opens with Power Girl and Superman breaking free of Vandal Savage’s force field bubble to find themselves—apparently—in the far future. Now, they’re not in the far future (it’s never clear where they are, actually, maybe something else for next issue… Levitz promises two other things already), but it doesn’t stop Superman from destroying a bunch of robotics while Power Girl tries to figure out what’s really going on.

Power Girl isn’t around long; well, she’s not around and conscious long. Savage’s plan involves sapping Kryptonian life energy to replenish his immortality, and he takes her down first, charging himself up so he can handle fisticuffs with Superman.

Meanwhile, the rest of the JSA—now imprisoned in Savage’s future place—get free, one by one, and try to help Superman and Power Girl. The Flash starts back in Camelot times, going to the future and the distant past, in an excuse for Wood to do some trippy time travel art. It doesn’t serve any narrative purpose otherwise. At least Green Lantern moping about losing his business because he was too busy being a selfless superhero like a chump will be relevant next issue.

I mean, promises, promises.

Hawkman gets a decent all-action sequence after being so annoying a few issues ago. Merlin—in Savage’s future—frees Hawkman, who quickly frees Star-Spangled Kid and gets himself a fresh set of hawk wings. Now, Flash was talking to King Arthur in the past, which means for whatever reason Savage brought Merlin along. It’s never clear whether Savage actually needs Merlin’s magic—maybe just for the time travel—because he’s big into robot armies.

Star-Spangled Kid’s new cosmic converter belt is silly and looks like a wrestling belt, which may be better than the cosmic rod in terms of giggles but still strange energy.

The cliffhanger promises next issue will have something to do with the now three-issue old Injustice Society subplot. And Shining Knight gets a mention. Not an appearance, but a mention.

All-Star Comics is incredibly uneven—Wood’s art this issue, for instance, isn’t as good as the previous one, even though he does seem invested in the Superman in a Flash Gordon future stuff.

But a handful of neat visuals don’t a comic make.

All-Star Comics (1976) #64

Paul Levitz (dialogue, co-plot)

Wally Wood (pencils, inks, co-plot)

Al Sirois (inks)

Elizabeth Safian (colors)

Ben Oda (letters)

Joe Orlando (editor)

Wally Wood takes over the full art duties and eighty-sixes Power Girl’s cleavage window, making All-Star immediately feel a little more grown-up. Helping set it back—writer Paul Levitz now makes special time to gripe about Power Girl being too into women’s lib and not gracious enough to the men around her.

Otherwise, the majority of All-Star’s ongoing problems get a respite. There’s still the whining—Hourman whines about how no one needs him, Green Lantern whines about how no one cares about his money troubles—but there’s also time travel to Camelot and a big reveal at the end.

In the present, Star-Spangled Kid has turned his cosmic rod into a belt, which doesn’t really feature in the story at all. Other than Kid pissing off Power Girl because he does something nice but she can’t appreciate how men are, actually, just trying to help her. Levitz takes the time to point out her personality defects after these moments, which is cruddy but now expected.

Superman—who last issue promised he was retiring (again) from the JSA—rejoins this issue (he’s back at headquarters for some reason too, even before rejoining). It works out because Wood clearly enjoys doing Golden Age Superman in “modern” comics. Quotations for modern because they really lean into the Camelot time travel for a bit, complete with slight costume changes.

They’re back in the past because Flash and Green Lantern show up at JSA headquarters with Shining Knight, who they discovered in Egypt while looking for Dr. Fate’s cure (Dr. Fate’s recuperating off-page). Presumably, original series writer (and editor) Gerry Conway had a different development in store for the Egyptian sojourn, but Levitz uses it to send the team into the past; the Romans are attacking Camelot, which is ahistorical (Camelot being historical could just be an Earth-Two thing, right?).

After that whining from Hourman and Green Lantern, the team heads back, fighting some knights before ending up at the castle for their briefing with Merlin and Arthur. Despite being a seemingly essential guest star, Shining Knight disappears around this point. He’s definitely not there once the heroes realize something else is going on.

Specifically, Power Girl notices something else is going on, bringing it to her cousin Superman’s attention. Now, if Golden Age Superman is the crème de la creme, why doesn’t he notice it? Because he’s too busy crying havoc. One wonders if editor Joe Orlando was ever once concerned with internal consistency. Again, probably not.

The Wood art is nice, even when he’s brushing over plot holes (or creating them himself).

All-Star’s not exactly good, now, but it’s majorly improved.

Also doesn’t hurt Wildcat is nowhere to be found.

Announcing The Comix Section, a Stop Button zine

Today, a full month later than I’d hoped but a couple weeks before I feared, I’m dropping The Comix Section #1, an e-zine of comic book criticism. If you have a good color printer, lots of ink, legal-sized paper, and a powerful stapler, it can also be a paper zine. It was meant to be a paper zine and flipped when read, with one side containing a readthrough of the DC Comics Will Eisner’s The Spirit Archives and the other a wide variety of floppies starting in the mid-1970s.

There’s a story to the variety, but I’m approximately twenty-four hours behind when I actually thought I’d be making this post, and even last night, I didn’t have it in me.

I don’t even have a full listing of the contents in me at this point, but you can see the table of contents below.

There are a bevy of download versions, which took up much of the additional prep time and is hopefully something I can automate next time.

The issue is available as a PDF or a CBZ, both full quality–oh, forgot: The Comix Section is fully “illustrated” (photos of the issues and, more significantly, the Spirit)–and compressed. The compressed should be fine. Again, lots of versions if it’s not. Or you want to try printing it out.

Download PDF 142.6 MB

Download CBZ 142.6 MB

Download CBZ (full quality) 438.3 MB

Thirty-one Spirit stories reviewed, a full-page from each of them. Eighteen DC seventies books (maybe eighteen; I actually won’t get this posted if I stop and count): Superboy and the Legion of Super-Heroes and All-Star Comics Starring the Justice Society of America Featuring the Super Squad. Spoiler: the first year, Spirit is better, but even with the frequent, complicated, but unequivocal yikes of Ebony in Spirit, it’s often less creepy than the DC stuff.

I’ve got a fancy dedication planned for some point (at this rate, the project will take eleven years). Lanark took thirty, but it was fiction, so I feel like I’m solid. But for now, I want to shout out Vernon (who’s reading this) and Katie (who isn’t but will read the collected CS someday, all 500k words of it–again, extrapolating from this single issue). Invaluable assistance through the process, with Vernon actually making it possible. My thanks.

I hope you’ll check it out, though if you’re here for the movies or TV, I don’t think it’ll be for you unless you’re intellectually curious about comic books. Even if you’re into comics—well, the Venn diagram of Will Eisner and Jim Shooter—honestly, comics is the only reality where they can overlap so much.

Superboy and the Legion of Super-Heroes (1977) #251

Slsh251

According to tops three minutes of Internet research, the Steve Apollo credit for this issue is actually both Jim Starlin and Joe Staton. Starlin had his name taken off the previous issue and this one because he wanted the story to appear in an over-size special release. Apparently, post-Starlin, they rearranged this half—adding a new page from Staton, making it even less what Starlin intended. Unfortunately, though, no rearranging is going to help this issue. Especially not with the art.

I think Starlin’s trying to do Jack Kirby and just failing miserably. The giant cosmic monster walking through space seems like only something Kirby could get away with in a superhero comic. But Starlin, inked by Dave Hunt, isn’t cutting it. The monster’s headed towards Earth on a singular mission—to discover how it was created, which turns out to be a good question. It’s got a lousy answer, but the question was ripe with potential.

The creator in question is Brainiac 5, who has been under a lot of stress lately due to a lack of positive reinforcement. When he lost the election to be Legion leader, he decided he’d create a monster to kill every single living creature in the universe. But he wanted to toy with the Legion first, so he made the monster; now, the monster is going to use the machine Brainiac 5 used to make the monster to destroy the universe. Brainiac 5 could’ve just destroyed the universe, but no, instead, we had to get this stagnant story.

Paul Levitz scripts from Starlin’s story. There’s a lot of exposition, with Levitz introducing every character in narration like… it’s a DC Special Series issue, and there might be fresh eyes on the Legion. But, as a regular issue, it’s too much, especially when there’s never any pay-off to anything. Except Superboy chastising Wildfire for being a Debbie downer, which is an entirely new characterization for both of them.

This issue’s Paul Levitz’s last Legion for a couple years.

Not a good finish.

Superboy and the Legion of Super-Heroes (1977) #250

Slsh250

Oh, I’m sorry, I was expecting them to finish the story this issue. What was I thinking?

I was actually thinking it’s the 250th issue, and they’d do a double-size spectacular, concluding a lengthy story arc involving an evil Legionnaire plotting against the group. The issue’s got a plot and pencils by Jim Starlin (under a pseudonym, Steve Apollo), script by Paul Levitz, finishes by Dave Hunt. The outer space stuff—the literal outer space stuff, planets, star fields—is glorious. Beautiful colors from Gene D’Angelo. The space monster is pretty great. The rest of the art, not so much.

But some of it’s gorgeous.

The story’s good. Even from the start, it’s clear the story will probably be pretty good, and Starlin and Hunt will make some weird art choices. The bizarre art choices are obvious because Chameleon Boy looks very strange. Kind of like a leprechaun but the wrong color. It’s an intentional move, it’s got a lot of personality, good or not, but once the rest of the Legion shows up, the art gets bland.

Chameleon Boy’s going to reveal the traitorous villain to Wildfire, only someone attacks Chameleon Boy. So Wildfire assembles the Legion to update them. Starlin and Hunt do okay on Wildfire because he doesn’t have a face, and his costume has many ridges. When the art’s on a flat, human superhero? Yawn.

Though the action scene with Superboy and Mon-El’s pretty good in long shots. They can’t do the close-ups of the heroes, including a super silly expression one of Mon-El, but the space monster fight’s surprisingly exciting. Especially since the monster’s really goofy. It’s a monster called Omega; it’s a construct, walking through the universe to Earth to destroy the Legion at their headquarters. It really hates the Legion.

Somehow—thanks to the villain reveal—Levitz is able to make all of it palatable. Even compelling. The mystery itself’s compelling, especially since Wildfire’s an excellent straight man, but the space monster with goofy dialogue is the second guest bad guy. An evil hologram in an executioner’s outfit shows up at Legion headquarters to tell the Legionnaires their days are numbered. It’s too absurd and would be more concerning if Levitz didn’t pull things for the mid-issue space action, then the reveals and fallout.

Levitz (and Starlin) do a great job with Wildfire’s arc this issue. It ends up being a strong enough backbone.

I just wish they’d gotten the resolve over with. Levitz’s dragging it out too much.