Sunday, September 23, 2012
Why do I like super heroes?
Therefore, in the interest of producing something positive to say about the super hero genre, I asked myself: why exactly did I invest so much emotion into these characters?
While Jim Salicrup was editor of Captain America in the early 1980s, he pointed to the above panel from Avengers#4 (1964) by Stan Lee & Jack Kirby as a defining characterization of Captain America. Captain America is facing the Sub-Mariner in combat, an antagonist whose superhuman strength places him well above Cap's own human strength level. Cap is canny enough to realize how outclassed he is, but remains confident in his ability to win the fight. "He's stronger than me -- but I'll find a way to outmaneuver him!"
This scene has been echoed by other writers through the years and it's often invoked at moments of extreme cosmic peril. For instance, take the Avengers#177 (1978) by Jim Shooter & Dave Wenzel. In this, the climax of the lengthy Korvac Saga, the godlike Michael Korvac quickly plows through the Avengers' ranks, killing each member regardless of their might; in the midst of this, Captain America enters the fray and briefly holds his own against Korvac. "Or maybe you don't even count me -- because I'm just a man? Hear that, Mike? This is no god hitting you -- no super-man! Just a man! It doesn't matter how strong you are! I'll find a way to stop you! I'll find a way!" This brief turn of events ends as Korvac strikes Cap through a wall with so much force that it kills him. Later, of course, all of the Avengers are brought back to life.
Years later in Infinity Gauntlet#4 (1991) by Jim Starlin, Ron Lim & George Perez, the all-powerful Thanos battles what few heroes remain after he's already killed 50% of the universe. The entire fight is a joke; Thanos is in no real jeopardy and engages the heroes only to divert himself and hopefully win the favour of Death, herself. After Thanos kills most of the heroes, only Captain America is left standing. Even with so little hope of victory, Cap fights to the end: "As long as one man stands against you, Thanos, you'll never be able to claim victory. I've lived my life by those sentiments. They're well worth dying for." Captain America does indeed die (after landing one punch across Thanos' jaw), but is later brought back to life.
Why do I like Captain America? Because he struggles against superior forces, heedless of the cost.
Look also to Tales of Suspense#59 (1964) by Stan Lee & Jack Kirby. A gang of ten heavily armed criminals (one wearing Iron Man-like armour) break into Avengers Mansion and find Captain America is the only Avenger present. They assume they can handle just one Avenger - the only Avenger without super powers - but he proves to be more than a match for them. After he defeats the gang, Cap can only remark: "But it's lucky you broke in while I was on duty! If any of the other Avengers were here, you might have gotten hurt! They're really tough!"
Why do I like Captain America? Because he's humble.
In one of the best Avengers stories of them all, Baron Zemo leads a version of the Masters of Evil whose members both outnumber and overpower the Avengers' own. By the events of Avengers#274 (1986) by Roger Stern & John Buscema, the Black Knight has been beaten unconscious, Captain Marvel has been exiled to another dimension, Hercules has been beaten to the point of death and Captain America has been captured, leaving only the Wasp at liberty. Zemo lets his wrath get the better of him as he kicks the bound-up Captain America in the face, gloating he'll finally get revenge on Cap for supposedly killing his father. As he lies helplessly on the floor, bleeding from the mouth, Captain America tells Zemo he hasn't won yet... not while the Wasp is free. And he's right: the Wasp eventually returns to rescue the captured Avengers and round up Zemo's forces.
Why do I like Captain America? Because he believes in his friends.
During the days when Captain America was romantically involved with Diamondback, a former costumed criminal who was inspired to reform by his good example, Diamondback was nearly murdered by her enemy Snapdragon. Traumatized by the episode, Diamondback eventually tracked down Snapdragon and seemingly killed her. After struggling with this secret for more than a year, Diamondback finally confessed what she'd done to Cap in Captain America#424 (1994) by Mark Gruenwald and Phil Gosier. Diamondback thinks Cap could "never love a murderer," but he promises to first, ascertain if Snapdragon is dead and second, get Diamondback the best legal aid possible. He fully intends to help Diamondback redeem herself for the attempt on Snapdragon's life. "I can't presume to judge you. I don't know what you went through. But I do know you're basically a good person. You've more than earned my support."
Why do I like Captain America? Because he supports his loved ones and doesn't judge them, even when they've fallen short.
One of Stan Lee & Steve Ditko's best multiple part stories was a lengthy Doctor Strange arc where his foes Baron Mordo & Dormammu joined forces against him. With Mordo's spies found across the globe, Strange is constantly in danger as he searches for the means to combat Mordo & Dormammu. In Strange Tales#135 (1965), Strange's journey brings him to England, where he asks Mordo's former agent Sir Baskerville for help. However, Baskerville is secretly still an agent of Mordo. He contacts his master and Mordo teleports a minion to Baskerville's castle to destroy Dr. Strange. When Baskerville and the minion return to ambush Strange, they find he's gone, but a suit of armour suddenly comes to life. Believing Strange is inside the armour, the minion attacks it and pursues it through a passageway... right into the path of Dr. Strange, who defeats the minion with a single punch to the gut. How did Strange animate the armour? Simple: he placed his cloak of levitation inside.
Why do I like Doctor Strange? Because he wins fights not through superior power, but superior tactics.
My personal favourite comic book is Doctor Strange#55 (1982) by Roger Stern & Michael Golden. After his lover Clea breaks up with him, Strange is so despondent that his psyche breaks down; it's dangerous for a sorcerer to lose control of his senses because he can't tell what's real and what's being conjured by his subconsciousness. In a moment of anger, Strange wishes he'd "never learned the ways of magic." At this point, a spirit appears and claims his wish has been granted. Strange is soon thrust into a horrible, nightmarish world in which the super hero Doctor Strange... is just a fictional character who appears in comic books. Confronted with this horrible reality - one we readers know is all too true - Strange is coerced to commit suicide as the ultimate escape from reality. Although tempted, Strange finally refuses and fights back against the forces trying to destroy his life.
Why do I like Doctor Strange? Because in the depths of despair, he chooses life over death.
Much has been made of Stan Lee & Steve Ditko's "Final Chapter" story from Amazing Spider-Man, particularly the moment where Spider-Man lifts an immense burden off his back. Personally, there's another moment I like at least as much in Amazing Spider-Man#33 (1966): while trying to escape the fortress of Doctor Octopus and bring a life-saving serum to his Aunt May, Spider-Man is confronted by a gang comprising eight of Dr. Octopus' men. The hero is weary from his struggles, nearly delirious, but flies into battle with them. Without any grace or form, he swings wildly at his foes; the batle goes on for 2.5 pages as the henchmen hold their own for a time. Moments later, Spider-Man is startled to discover he's defeated all of his opponents without realizing it.
Why do I like Spider-Man? Because he's stronger than he thinks he is.
I could carry on, but I hope you've enjoyed this little list.
Wednesday, August 29, 2012
On the poor collective memory of comic book culture
Rasl was created by Jeff Smith and began in 2008; it ran for 15 issues in total. Although it had good press when it launched and plenty of comments about the first issue, it quickly fell off the radar of the internet's comic book culture.
glamourpuss was created by Dave Sim and began in 2008; it ran for 26 issues in total. Although it had a decent amount of press when it launched, it quickly fell off the radar of the internet's comic book culture.
I feel Rasl was difficult for comic book mavens to discuss because it involved parallel worlds, quantum theory and various mysteries. It will almost certainly be vindicated over the years as people assess the collected series as a single story, rather than as irregular installments spaced over four years.
I feel glamourpuss was difficult for comic book pundits to discuss because a) it only barely concerned itself with narrative and b) was the work of Dave Sim, who is (to put it bluntly) reviled by much of the internet's comic book culture. Unlike Smith, Sim was unable to bring his series to a proper ending; he hopes to eventually finish the segments featuring "the Strange Death of Alex Raymond" as a graphic novel, but was left uncertain about his future in the comics industry.
The recent brouhaha surrounding Before Watchmen has had an interesting effect on the creator-owned comic book business as publishers of creator-owned material (notably, Image's Eric Stephenson) have publicly called out the exploitation of employees by Marvel & DC. Just this week there was a piece in Dark Horse's comics encouraging readers to support creator-owned books. It's fine that publishing groups like Image, Dark Horse & IDW can put up a united front, but what about the self-publishing creators? Smith & Sim are both perfect 10s on the scale of creators rights.
And yet, it's so easy to forget creators like Smith & Sim are on the marketplace because they don't have the marketing resources of the publishing groups. It's also easier for comic book fans and retailers to focus their attention on products they understand, not challenging material like Rasl and glamourpuss. There has been no dearth of Batman comic books for the previous 70 years (I think there's been at least one Batman comic per week for the last 20 years?) so one would think "Batman, chapter 2,096 of Infinity" wouldn't be newsworthy. However, the numbers don't lie: our comic book culture has room for books like Rasl and glamourpuss to co-exist with Batman, but overall, we'd much rather have Batman; we understand Batman.
None of this thinking is doing wonders for my sense of optimism regarding comics. Still, something will come along to take the place of Rasl and glamourpuss, just as these books followed Bone and Cerebus. At least this has been a fun journey!
Tuesday, August 28, 2012
Happy birthday, Jack Kirby!
I didn't really begin to examine how I felt about Kirby until I discovered the Eternals. During my earliest days on the internet, I was there writing up summaries of the Kirby series on message boards and writing a Geocities page on the characters and their world. Above is the splash page to Eternals#13, my favourite issue of the series. Three teams of astronauts venture into space where the great mothership of the Celestials lies: one team is there to explore; one team seeks the Celestials' destruction; the third has come to save the world.
Check out the Comics Reporter for some nice samples of the King's art!
Monday, August 27, 2012
The enlightened man, circa 1935
From One Night on TV is Worth Weeks at the Paramount : Popular Music on Early Television, by Murray Forman:
"We should eliminate the word 'nigger' whenever possible. Of course, these darkies put a lot of pressure on us and they are sometimes too exacting, and there are certain songs where the word 'nigger' must be used. However, it is wise to cut it out as much as possible."
-John Royal, vice president of programs at NBC, 1935.
Friday, August 24, 2012
Bitter Fruit: wrapping up Archie's Shadow comics
- "The Shadow vs. the RXG Spymaster!!"
- "The Eyes of the Tiger!"
- "Shiwan Khan's Murderous Master-Plan!"
- "Margo Lane's Honeymoon!"
- "Shiwan Khan's House of Horrors!"
- "The Princess of Death"
- "The Diabolical Dr. Demon!"
- "The Human Bomb!"
- "Menace of Radiation Rogue!"
- "The Incredible Alliance of Shiwan Khan and Attila the Hunter!"
- "The Shadow Battles... the Brute!"
- "The Shadow Versus: ...Radiation Rogue, Dr. Demon, Attila the Hunter, the Insidious Elasto and the Diabolical Dimensionoid in the Game of Death!"
What exactly was I hoping to accomplish by looking back at the series? I suppose my interest came primarily from being a fan of the Shadow radio program and having heard in a few places how Archie's Shadow was one of the worst comic books of the 1960s. As I noted in the first review, I read each story for the first time as I reviewed it (I composed each paragraph after reading a page or more of the story). My hope was to discover either:
A) Archie's the Shadow wasn't nearly as terrible as people claimed!
Or:
B) Archie's the Shadow is terrible - but in a fun way!
It probably comes through at least some of the time during my reviews - I tried to either make light of the proceedings or attempt to find something good about the comic. But never mind my hopes... what is my final judgment of the Shadow#1-8?
It is a textbook example of a bad comic book series.
First, take our protagonist... please!
As a fan of the radio program, I'm used to the Shadow being Lamont Cranston, "well-to do young man about town," an amateur sleuth who secretly fights crime as the Shadow by "clouding men's mind so that they cannot see him." Instead, this comic book version of Lamont Cranston is a wealthy playboy who owns a bank and museum and is secretly an agent of the US government (originally the Secret Service, later changed to C.H.I.E.F.), but extra-secretly is the Shadow, with the power to cloud men's minds so that they cannot see him, read men's minds, erase memories, plant hypnotic suggestions and fabricate elaborate illusions; plus, he carries a variety of special gadgets, from his multi-purpose Shadow-Gun to boots which let him fly.
I think "wealthy man who is secretly a super hero" is a sufficient hook for a super hero book; the secret agent material adds almost nothing to the series, except to occasionally give Lamont superiors who send him on assignments. The series was incredibly inconsistent in using the Shadow's powers; he almost never seems to think of the appropriate time to become invisible or read his foe's mind. The addition of gadgets in later issues only make his Shadow powers superfluous - instead of "remembering" he has powers to get out of a bind, he "remembers" he's carrying a gadget which is precisely suited to resolving the problem.
The Shadow's greatest hurdle in these issues is that he doesn't struggle; he has allies, powers and gadgets beyond reckoning, but no personal troubles. His money offers no burdens, his secret agent and super hero work never interfere with his own desires, he can solve any problem without needing someone else's help (even if he has to mind-control someone into dying, re: "the Brute") and he treats his supporting cast as (at best) nuisances who get in the way of his work. Which brings me to...
If a hero is as rich as their supporting cast... Lamont Cranston is a pauper.
But who does make up the Shadow's supporting cast? There's his chauffeur Shrevy up above, along with his secretary Margo Lane, both familiar characters from the radio dramas. Further, Lamont's superior intelligence agent, Weston, is another person heard on the radio. Beyond that, Lamont had agents of his own (in "the Brute," at least) to gather intelligence. None of these characters know Lamont is the Shadow (even though Margo held his confidence on radio).
Lamont cares about his friends to the extent that he'll save them from his foes; however, he also erases their memories and manipulates their actions (re: "the Human Bomb") when it suits his needs. It isn't clear why Margo or Shrevy care for Lamont beyond their duties as his employees. Lamont treats them as subordinates. But the supporting cast's lack of impact on the series could be mitigated by the use of antagonists.
Every good hero deserves to fight the same villain every month?
Out of 8 issues, only one doesn't feature an appearance by Shiwan Khan. In 12 stories total, the Shadow battles Shiwan Khan 7 times; Attila the Hunter, Radiation Rogue and Dr. Demon each twice; the Human Bomb, Dimensionoid, Elasto and the Brute each once. He's also allied with Princess Lua in one story and pit against her in another; plus, there's a vast collection of minor thieves and spies.
Shiwan Khan was the only villain who originated in the Shadow's pulp novels; he appeared four times within two years, yet developed a reputation as the Shadow's greatest foe, even though the Shadow had made more than 300 novels by the time of the Archie comic. Using Shiwan Khan demonstrates the creators had some interest in the character's published history, but I don't see why he needed to be in 7/8 issues; surely the Shadow had other pulp villains who were worth revisiting? Although many other villains were introduced in the comics, usually they served as an accomplice to Shiwan Khan and were eventually betrayed by Khan.
Because the Shadow is repeatedly shown as exceedingly capable - with a gadget to stop anyone - it's hard to imagine his enemies giving him any real difficulty. Even the Brute, the one foe who overcomes everything the Shadow throws at him, is ultimately defeated by the Shadow's mental powers. Some of the Shadow's enemies do have ideas about evading his powers, such as wearing special goggles (Dr. Demon) or painting eyeballs on their eyelids to fool the Shadow (Khan, in "Radiation Rogue"). However, the Shadows powers and gadgets ultimately win out and the villains are often at each other's throats; even when the stakes are high (Khan having nuclear weapons in "Master-Plan"), the Shadow sleepwalks his way through their schemes. And boy, such schemes...
But I haven't even started on the plotting, such as it is.
The series was initially written by Robert Bernstein (issues#1-3, stories #1-6), later by Jerry Siegel (issues#4-8, stories #7-12). I don't know what the workings of Archie Comics would have been at the time - did they use full scripts or "Marvel method?" How much involvement did the editor have over the finished product? Actually, I don't even have the writing credits because Archie didn't supply any; the Grand Comics Database claims Bernstein & Siegel wrote these comics, but they don't explain where their source of information came from.
Under Bernstein, the series was an average secret agent comic book where the author was seemingly forced to make his protagonist an old pulp hero. In Bernstein's last issue, the transition to super hero was made complete; perhaps it had something to do with Bernstein's departure? Perhaps Bernstein's stories were originally written for a secret agent comic but were rewritten to include uses of the Shadow powers and appearances by familiar pulp characters?
By the time Siegel arrived, the series was a super hero extravaganza. Siegel, as co-creator of Superman, really ought to have been up to the concept; after all, at the time he had 25+ years of experience writing comic book, most of them super heroes; he'd worked for every major publisher and self-published. He was not only one of the fathers of the super hero genre, he was one of the fathers of comic book storytelling - full stop! And yet, one wouldn't assume the Shadow#4-8 were written by an experienced professional. The storytelling is so crude it could have been published in 1940, when the medium was young. At times, Siegel's storytelling suggests he has contempt for the very comic he's been hired to write (see the image at the top of this post). The last two issues are filled with smarmy dialogue suggesting the writer can't believe he's wasted 25+ years writing forgettable nonsense for children. And this led to...
The series struggled to extricate the hero from dilemmas without resorting to contrivances.
Even under Bernstein, the Shadow would seemingly forget his powers, especially his trademark power - to become invisible - and thus ignore obvious solutions to his problems. Under Siegel, the situation worsened as the Shadow would use his powers in ridiculous ways (the porcupine-man illusion from "Radiation Rogue") or spring out a variety of gadgets, most of which were not properly set up in advance. The Shadow's Shadow-Gun, belt buckle ray beam, "weakness gas," spring-loaded boots and jet boots would appear as the Shadow needed some quick means to get out of a problem. Other villains have an Achilles heel which isn't brought up until the Shadow exploits it (as in "Game of Death," above). I submit that when the protagonist has vast mental powers and sleuthing abilities, he shouldn't need a deus ex machina to overcome every obstacle. Even if I could forgive the short-cuts in plotting...
Artwork was, at the best of times, functional.
The GCD identified the artist of the first three stories as John Rosenberger; Paul Reinman drew all of the covers and the stories from the fourth on up. Initially, I was very pleased to have a little Reinman art because he demonstrated a minor Kirby influence. However, looking back, Rosenberger was the most consistent artist in terms of panel-to-panel continuity. When Reinman became the artist, important events kept happening off-panel and the lines of perspectives between characters and objects were skewed (such as the size-changing house in "Game of Death"). At times, Reinman could be quite stylish, but for a man of his experience (he'd been in comics almost as long as Siegel), there's no excuse for the quick short-cuts he would take in storytelling (unless it was to match the short-cuts Siegel was making in the plotting). It seems as though Reinman was trying to work outside his limitations, perhaps penciling/inking more pages than he was comfortable with; Kirby had the talent to take on multiple assignments at once without suffering too much (depending on who finished his art), but Reinman seems to be cast adrift on the Shadow, becoming sloppier as he goes (such as the above sequence where the missile's location relative to Dr. Demon changes between panels). Perhaps a good inker could have saved some of Reinman's dignity. But even then...
The series' dialogue becomes increasingly erratic as the book continues.
In my ignorance of the process around how these comics were made, I wonder how much of the awkward dialogue came about because the artists weren't delivering what the plotter asked for. Perhaps the plotter's stories weren't paced properly for the artist, perhaps the plotter forgot certain details he'd intended for the artists to employ. Whatever the reason, dialogue in latter issues of the Shadow is practically at war with the images on the page. In the above sequence from "the Brute," the villain suddenly emits gas to counter the Shadow's gas attack. The Brute had not previously been seen carrying gas cannisters and thus the script has just one panel to establish the Brute has gas and it works to counter the Shadow's. Also, the Brute has to climb out of the pit, all in a single panel!
"The Brute" also has some of the laziest scripting, such as the panel which establishes the location of one scene as "you-know-where" when the audience does not, in fact, know where the scene is set. It's a clumsy attempt at the ingratiating style Stan Lee employed in his scripts, but only serves to highlight how little interest the scripter has in telling the story.
In conclusion
The greatest value of Archie's Shadow is to illustrate how many things can go wrong with a comic book. Between these eight issues, you can find failures in just about everything shy of lettering and colouring. It stands as a curious artifact from the period where Stan Lee, Jack Kirby & Steve Ditko were challenging the cliches of the medium while most of their peers were simply clueless.
But is this one of the worst comic books ever made? Not exactly... it is entirely readable. I think a large part of why this comic book developed its reputation is because when the 1960s comic book revolution was occurring, it was stuck in the past; further, it put the Shadow into a ridiculous spandex costume, which no self-proclaimed Shadow fan could sit still for. But heck, the silly tights weren't the worst thing about this comic, as I've observed. The Shadow would eventually star in a number of well-received DC comic books from the 70s to the 90s, then return for the current Dynamite series; he's lived down this blip in his career rather well. As to Siegel and Reinman ...well, some people still give them grief for their other, better-known Archie super hero comics, which have also been called "worst of the 60s" or "worst of all-time." The best thing we can say about Siegel & Reinman is: no one talks about this particular side trip in their otherwise-respected careers.
Monday, August 20, 2012
Charming & troubling: Archer & Armstrong#1
Obadiah Archer was raised in a creationist amusement park (that is, a park which depicts humans and dinosaurs side-by-side as young Earth creationists maintain) along with more than a dozen foster brothers and sisters. Having been trained as an expert fighter, Obadiah is chosen to seek out his parents' greatest enemy: a mysterious man called Armstrong who could be thousands of years old, but these days is a drunken poetry-quoting bouncer (at an establishment which apparently can't afford sober security). By the climax of the tale, Archer learns his parents are allies of the 1%, a secret cabal who literally worship Mammon and seek to destroy Greece.
One hopes the first issue of an ongoing series will give you some idea of what to expect on a regular basis. Based on this first issue, I can only assume what the series will be like; Archer & Armstrong will surely become allies at some point, but they aren't such by the end of the issue. We'll eventually learn who and what Armstrong is, but for the purposes of the introduction, he's an old drunken poet. Archer will probably learn to acclimate to the world outside his parents' amusement park with hilarious, tragic and/or tragi-hilarious results. Archer is somewhat appealing as a naive sort as his point of view directs this issue's narrative, but at best he's a right-wing caricature like a Saturday Night Live Sarah Palin sketch.
My summary can't adequately describe the humour in this book. Beyond creationism (including the Great Flood) and the 1%, there are also jokes about obesity ("You can do the educational rides after second lunch!" get it? the joke refers to how overweight the average American is) and homeschooling, but every gag feels too entirely on the nose. It's essentially a one-joke premise: what if the exaggerated version of reality as seen on Fox News and ridiculed by the Colbert Report were the setting of a super hero comic?
I don't really identify with the fundamentalist Christian movement of the USA, so I'm game for a few good jokes about a creationist amusement park (in the real world, Kentucky's governor is trying to make this a reality). But the "joke" is as toothless as a 21st-century Simpsons episode: look! A creationist amusement park! That's it! That's the joke! Similarly, I thought the concept of the 1% would be very funny when I first heard of it, but when they finally emerge (on the last page), it's just to make the most obvious jokes about uber-privileged Americans (such as referencing Wall Street). The only moment I found genuinely amusing was the 1%'s plot to destroy Greece in order to save the Euro, but it belongs in a panel from Van Lente's Action Philosophers! or Comic Book comics - it's too ridiculous for the rest of the book.
Since the humourous (quasi-satirical) premise of this series is presumably what will set it apart from other super hero books on the rack, I wish the comedy had been a little looser, less grounded in reality (just as the premise is exaggerated from reality). Henry is perfectly suited for a super hero comedy (he already has the comedy version of Alpha Flight on his resume), but he doesn't even sell the visual of the creationist amusement park as a comedic effect. His work here looks too entirely like Salvador Larroca or Greg Land, bereft of most backgrounds and relying on the colourist to fill in the details.
I'm willing to try the second issue of Archer & Armstrong out of interest in Van Lente's work, but if none of my concerns are addressed, it will be my last issue. At one point I thought, "what this comic needs to be more like Barack the Barbarian!" Then I thought, "...we're doomed."
Friday, August 17, 2012
Shockingly good: Godzilla - the Half-Century War#1
However, people on the internet have been talking about IDW's Godzilla: the Half-Century War, so here was a potentially good point to jump into Stokoe's work and find out what I'd been missing. I was prepared to be unmoved by this comic, but I was not prepared to fall head-over-heels in love.
Even a lightweight Godzilla fan such as I can see how much love Stokoe has for the franchise. My favourite Godzilla films are Godzilla 1985 (1984) and Godzilla Against Mechagodzilla (2002). I find the worst part of a Godzilla film is usually whatever plot the human characters are involved in, but these two pictures have very good human plots with characters you actually root for as they stand up against Godzilla (as opposed to yelling at the screen, "Eat them all Godzilla! They're too stupid to live!"). Similarly, Stokoe's Godzilla: the Half-Century War is grounded from the perspective of Ota Murakami, a hapless tank crew member who finds himself living through the events of the original Godzilla: King of the Monsters (1956).
Stokoe is a... what, quadruple threat? Writer, artist, colourist, letterer. His Godzilla is loaded with details, but it doesn't overwhelm the characters or the action. Appropriately, some of his cues are from manga (ie, facial expressions, some dialogue balloons). As a minor fan, I certainly appreciated the "krsh!" sound effect as Godzilla powers up his atomic breath...
...But where I caved in was the depiction of Godzilla's roar. It seems Stokoe drew it in the same shape as the wave pattern from an audio recording of Godzilla roaring in the films. This is... wow. Oh, wow. How often do I get to see something done with the language of comic books that's new to me? Something I haven't seen done before? Outstanding.
Godzilla: the Half-Century War will only run five issues, but promises to feature different versions of Godzilla from over the decades. I'm committed to seeing this one through; beautiful art, lettering, colours and likeable characters; I only wish this were an ongoing series! Once again, IDW has a winner in my eyes; the sooner the industry starts taking cues from them, the sooner we can get back fun, quality books of merit across the line.






























