The
Masked Bookwyrm's Graphic Novel (& TPB) Reviews
Aquaman ~ Page Two
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Aquaman:
The Legend of Aquaman (2018) 172 pages
Story/layouts by Keith Giffen. Script by Robert Loren Fleming. Pencils by Curt Swan. Inks by Al Vey, Eric Shanower.
Reprinting: Aquaman Special #1 - (The Legend of Aquaman) (1989), Aquaman (1989 mini-series) #1-5
Rating: * * * (out of 5)
Number of readings: 3
Reviewed: Oct 2019
This TPB collects both a 1989 mini-series and an accompanying "special" -- all by mostly the same creative team. It was to some extent an attempt to define and position Aquaman after DC began re-booting its universe. But the problem with all those re-boots over the years is it's a bit hard to figure out how, where, or whether, it fits into continuity (just as an example, there was a different Aquaman Special #1 published the year before in 1988!). There was already a post-Crisis Aquaman mini-series in 1986, but I'm not sure whether this is a re-boot of that re-boot.
The 44 page special certainly gets readers up to speed as it's literally an origin story of Aquaman, re-telling the traditional story, re-imagining certain aspects, and leaving others still vague presumably for other writers. Instead of a super hero adventure it's more leisurely-paced and low-key, as much Tarzan or Mowgli set in the ocean as anything. We begin with baby Aquaman left to die on an ocean reef -- only he survives and grows up among dolphins before befriending a hermit-like lighthouse keeper (I think in the traditional origin, the lighthouse keeper was Aquaman's biological dad -- here he's an adoptive parent). Eventually Aquaman goes off in search of Atlantis, only to find it under tyrannical rule and he is thrown in prison. After a few years in prison he escapes and, after a montage of panels showing him becoming Aquaman-the-superhero, he returns to Atlantis...only to find the tyrant has been overthrown. After another recap, telling of Aquaman's subsequent life, from his marriage to Mera to the death of their son, the special ends with Aquaman leaving Atlantis for the open waters.
On one hand it's an atmospheric tale, the very low-key sedateness of it kind of appealing. And it's attractively drawn by Swan and with bright, open colours by Tom McCraw (as befits a story set under sunny skies in the middle of the ocean). On the other hand, it can feel a bit anticlimactic and inconsequential, giving us the peripheries of a dramatic story more than the real deal (we spend a few pages with Aquaman a prisoner, accomplishing nothing...then have him return after the revolution). Admittedly, I think that's the point: to try and tell a story partly through inference,where Aquaman -- and the reader -- are only getting glimpses of the bigger picture.
The mini-series picks up a few years later in what was essential the "modern" continuity (perhaps the weird thing about a lot of the DC re-boots is how they'd re-boot the characters, technically negating what went before...but still start the new era of stories with the characters in mid-career). Aquaman returns to Atlantis only to discover it has been conquered by an invading army. This time he deliberately allows himself to be taken prisoner (the captors not realizing who he is) figuring he can help overthrow them from the inside (which seems counter intuitive frankly, given the whole point of a prison is to keep people confined!) Along the way he has a showdown with former love, Mera -- who has gone quite mad over the years, presumably with grief over their son's death.
Keith Giffen is credited with the plot and the layouts, but the actual writing falls to Robert Loren Fleming, and the art to iconic Superman artist, Curt Swan (inked by Al Vey on the mini-series and Eric Shanower on the special). To be honest -- I was unsure how Giffen acquired the position he held at that time (serving as a similar plotter/layout-artist on other mini-series like Invasion, Green Lantern: Emerald Dawn I & II, Ragman). Giffen started out as an artist, then enjoyed a long collaborative run as a co-plotter with Paul Levitz on the Legion of Super-Heroes (and later J.M. DeMatteis on the Justice League). The problem is that all of these mini-series had similar flaws (to greater and lesser degrees). Thin, deliberately-paced (even slow-moving) plots, suffering from logic problems, plot holes, and dubious characterization, and uncomfortable ethical undercurrents -- as if when working with Levitz and DeMatteis, even Giffen wasn't aware of how much they were shoring up problems in his storytelling. Problems that become obvious when given sole story control.
At first it's not too much of a problem -- thanks to the art. Here Giffen presumably deserves some credit for the storyboarding. But mostly it goes to Curt Swan, whose clean, hyper-realist art (that defined Superman for more than one generation) is well matched with Aquaman. Not only because Aquaman (then) still exuded very much a Silver Age vibe (with his close-cropped hair and imperious manner) but because the story is more sci-fi than superhero, set within this undersea kingdom -- and Swan is also associated with the sci-fi milieu of the Legion of Super-Heroes (circa the 1960s). It's not unreasonable to say you'd be hard pressed to find a better looking Aquaman saga.
An equally good looking saga? Sure. But better?
The problem is Giffen (and Fleming) clearly want to write a smart, sophisticated saga -- hence why there's a lot of emphasis on characters standing around talking, rather than splash-page action scenes. But without pulling it off. The supporting cast is mostly utilitarian and generic. The saga is almost two stories: the first half, with Aquaman a prisoner in a conquered Atlantis and fomenting a revolt, then the second half where the now-free Atlantis has to fight off the returning invaders. But characters who appear in the first half don't appear in the second, and vice versa, so no one save Aquaman really emerges as a notable personality in five issues. The characters talk of plans and strategies...but with little sense of what they are or how they work (at one point Aquaman mentions having a test run on some tissue samples he found...with it being unclear how he has access to a forensics lab!) And the characters argue ethics a lot, as if Giffen wants this to be smart, thinking man's stuff, without a great deal of logic or coherence to those discussions (Aquaman sometimes exhorting action, other times restraint, often with little sense what his alternative is). After spending a few issues doing nothing, and frustrating his commanders by his inaction (once he's reclaimed the throne but has to repel the invasion) Aquaman finally saves the day -- but in a Deus ex Machina way familiar from, well, almost every other Aquaman tale. And with it unclear why he took so long to think of it!
It can feel a bit like Giffen wanted to do a gritty story about war and oppression, as if maybe he was reading some old war comics, or watching a documentary about WW II -- even to the point where the invaders plan on exterminating the Atlanteans in death camps and literally refer to their "final solution." But without much sense Giffen has really put much thought into it. Equally problematic, the invaders are led by hyper-intelligent jellyfish. Yup, you read right. Which kind of makes the Holocaust/Nazi metaphor seem a bit trivializing. Nor is it clear where the jellyfish come from or why they want to do this. Nor, from a technical stand-point, how -- since they plan to exterminate their own troops too, but they rely on those troops to do the exterminating!
I often found some of these Giffen-led mini-series had problematic ethics, such as here where an Atlantean doctor secretly murders invader patients in her care! (So much for: First do no harm.)
The conflict with Mera is also problematic. I suppose it's awkward to cry sexism everytime a female character is ill-served by writers, but it's a shabby, dismissive treatment of a long-serving character -- to just have her go nuts and homicidal. It also ties into the problem comics have with depicting "mental illness" when her behaviour is attributed to her having gone mad from grief when, y'know, I'm not really sure it's realistic. It reminds me of Batman comics in recent years that try to "seriously" explore his mad villains when these comic book writers have the barest understanding of mental health issues.
This has ended up being a pretty negative review. On the other hand, and maybe an indication of why Giffen enjoyed the position he did, I suppose you can argue it's still eminently readable. I mean, for all the slow, deliberate pacing -- it clips along, and is easy to breeze through (I've re-read it more than once over the years). And Swan's art (over Giffen's layouts) can't help but make it visually absorbing. If you can find it cheap -- or the special and mini-series in the discount boxes -- it can while away a couple of hours. And it tells a story (as opposed to being part of some on-going series) and is arguably better than the 1986 mini-series that preceded it.
Aquaman: The Search for Mera (2018) 208 pages
Written
by Steve Skeates. Illustrated by Jim Aparo.
Colours/letters: various (letters probably by Aparo)
Reprinting: Aquaman (1st series) #40-48 (1968)
Rating: * * * * 1/2 (out of 5)
Number of readings: 2
Reviewed: Oct. 2019
I had originally posted a review of this before
it was collected in TPB form -- in my They Ain't
TPBs section. My point being: even before it was collected I thought
it probably warranted it (and the saga had previously been reprinted in
a series of Adventure Comics digests back in the early 1980s). I've also boosted the rating by a half star: though it's uneven -- it also lingers with me and sticks in my memory as a notable "epic."
Sometimes when considering notable story arcs
it's interesting to consider them in the context of the times (or at least,
to speculate as much as one can looking back decades and from an amateur
pop culturalist's perspective!)
In the case of The Search for Mera arc (or what
I earlier dubbed The Quest for Mera arc), it's an epic, 9 issue storyline
that -- in a manner perhaps less common today -- is comprised of stand
alone stories connected by a story thread and sub-plots that form a saga.
Back in the halcyon days when Aquaman was king of Atlantis, with his wife,
Mera, at his side, Aquababy on his knee, and stalwart Aqualad and Aquagirl
as his comrades, a mysterious whirlpool swirls up one day and, in the confusion,
Mera is kidnapped by shadowy figures! This then leads into the multi-issue
saga as Aquaman sets out to find her, his journeys taking him to previously
unknown undersea kingdoms and into conflicts with surface world mobsters
(and a one-issue tussle with arch foe, Black Manta).
It's written by Steve Skeates, a DC Comics regular
of the time, and artist Jim Aparo, apparently marking his first work with
DC (a company that would remain his primary publisher for the rest of his
career). Aparo's initial work is certainly good (he had already done work
for Charlton and others) but even over this story arc it improves dramatically,
becoming more atmospheric and compositionally ambitious -- arguably among
some of his best work. I was always a fan of Aparo but, particularly in
his later years, his art got a bit looser, whereas here there's a lot more
emphasis on shadows, and evoking the otherworldly environment of the underwater
setting (I assume he's inking himself for the most part, as he usually
did, but at least one issue mentions an uncredited inker).
And the reason I say it's interesting to consider
in the context of its time is that I'm assuming there was an editorial
decision to shake up the Aquaman comic -- part of overall shifts in the
DC line to make their comics reflect the greater ambition of rival Marvel
Comics.
Prior to this, the regular Aquaman creative team
was writer Bob Haney and artist Nick Cardy, the two delivering entertaining
(and thanks to Cardy's moody art, atmospheric) adventures -- as can be
read in Showcase presents Aquaman vol. 3 which is reviewed on the next
page. But they were fairly breezy, tell-it-in-one issue plots, with
only minor continuity aspects bleeding over from issue to issue. And where
characters uttered epithets like "Sufferin' Starfish!" It's an enjoyable
run, but definitely Old School.
So you can't help but infer a dramatic editorial
re-focus when the creative team (writer and artist both) is changed and
they immediately launch into a multi-issue saga (though Cardy stayed on
as cover artist). As much as I love Cardy's work, Aparo's art seems intended
to shift things toward a slightly greater realism, or at least more dynamic
composition, and Skeates' scripts seem to be aiming for a little more maturity
(characters exclaim "Good God!").
One can even wonder if DC was attempting to mimic
the model of Marvel's Sub-Mariner who around this time had jumped from
the anthology comic, Tales to Astonish, to his own self-titled series to
go head to-gill with Aquaman (Aquaman was modelled after the Sub-Mariner
anyway, the two constantly echoing each other in terms of powers, setting,
and themes). Multi-issue quest arcs were an already-established staple
of Sub-Mariner stories, after all.
As well, reading these old Aquaman comics, I
noticed a slight similarity between Aparo's art and Sub-Mariner artist,
Gene Colan -- the same tendency toward figures twisting and bending in
dynamic ways. In the earliest issues of this arc, Aparo tends to draw Aquaman
a bit blockier, a bit squarer than I normally associate with his style
(getting leaner and more "Aparo-esque" as the saga progresses) in perhaps
a deliberate attempt to gradually transition from Cardy's burlier Aquaman.
But also the male figures often have oddly wide hips -- a distinctive trait
of Gene Colan's style. So I wonder if when Aparo was hired, he was encouraged
to initially affect a style that, though still his own, deliberately borrowed
a bit from Cardy, while adopting aspects of Colan.
At first, the saga is maybe nothing special (I
had read the first couple of issues years ago as a kid when they were reprinted
in the Adventure Comics digest). The "quest" theme is basically an excuse
for a kind of Star Trek-like format of Aquaman (and Aqualad) coming upon
unknown civilizations. The stories are minor in terms of plotting, but
okay, and even here perhaps reflect a slight turn towards less kiddie-oriented
ideas (in one issue, Aquaman discovers a city where the inhabitants have
a symbiotic relationship with some sea creatures -- a relationship that
occasionally entails the sea creatures randomly eating the inhabitants;
but the story ends with Aquaman swimming off, pragmatically deciding not
to judge the culture). But as the issues trundle by, Skeates fractures
the plotting more, to create a greater sense of an epic saga -- a "graphic
novel" -- cutting between Aquaman's quest, Aqualad off on his own, and
brewing unrest back home in Atlantis (not that you should question how
time progresses in the various threads relative to each other). The latter
sub-plot was perhaps reflective of the late 1960s, with a tyrant taking
control of the kingdom and young rebels plotting against him at a time
when civic unrest was high in the U.S. (the leader of the rebels is even
bearded with slightly long hair and a hippy-era "peace" sign can be seen
incongruously in the background at one point). Not that Skeates is making
any profound political statements (despite the tyrant, the rebels are also
chastised for not having faith that Aquaman would return to set things
right).
The accumulating plot threads give the saga a
greater weight as it unfolds, so that it does feel like a genuine story
arc (as opposed to just an excuse for stand alone adventures). And some
of these adventures start to tie together, so that when things are explained
toward the end, it does feel like a culmination (as opposed to simply a
beginning and an end with random adventures in-between).
And it does it with little reliance on recurring
villains -- with only arch-foe Black Manta cropping up for a single issue.
Admittedly, comics back then (particularly at DC) weren't as obsessive
about recurring foes, not requiring them for every issue. But it is interesting
to note their scarcity in a 9 issue run (another epic saga from around
this time -- Superman: Kryptonite Nevermore -- featured no recurring foes).
Contrast that to today where it often seems like epic sagas are just an
excuse to parade out the hero's rogues gallery for issue after issue of
grudge fights!
Skeates perhaps should also be given credited
for setting Aquaman -- as a character -- on the road he would later follow
(also in a manner seeming borrowed from the Sub-Mariner). Prior to this,
Aquaman had been a traditional, clean cut, DC Comics hero (with an occasional
tendency toward a slightly hard-boiled, tough guy demeanor). But in these
issues we see the emergence of a slightly more tarnished, feet-of-clay
Aquaman. Not dramatically so, but we see the beginning of a more impulsive,
hot-headed Aquaman, an Aquaman whose personal needs (his quest for Mera)
causes him to neglect his responsibilities to his kingdom (thereby, in
a sense, contributing to the crisis). An Aquaman who, in the story involving
surface world mobsters, at one point thinks it doesn't concern him and
considers just swimming away. He doesn't swim away, but it does signal
a shift from perceiving Aquaman as a super hero whose purpose is to fight
crime, to Aquaman as an undersea king to whom "crime fighting super hero"
is more an imprecise label.
It is intriguing reading this arc. I had actually
delved into it partly just out of curiosity as an early Aquaman epic. As
mentioned, I was aware that the early issues had been okay, but nothing
more. But overall I found it a somewhat ambitious saga. It does form a
genuine story arc with a beginning and end. And though I'm not suggesting
this is some unheralded high-water mark of sophisticated characterization,
or mature plot development (the dialogue can still be reflective of its
era, the individual issues not exactly Byzantine) it's definitely titling
that way, with its increasingly multi-threaded storyline, its occasional
aspects of deeper philosophical or socio-political themes, and slightly
more naturalistic dialogue. (With even a possible ecological metaphor involving
the Atlanteans having to adjust to some environmental shifts).
With its introduction both of the multi-issue
quest theme and a slightly edgier, brasher Aquaman, it's arguably a seminal
story pointing the way for the later directions of the character and his
adventures.
Written by Will Pfeifer. Pencils by Patrick Gleason.
Inks by Christian Alamy.
Reprinting: Aquaman (3rd series) #15-22 (2004)
Rating: * * 1/2 (out
of 5)
Number of readings: 1
Reviewed: July 2015
Published by DC Comics
I've read the main "American Tidal" story (#15-20)
but not the final two issues included here -- just fyi.
I had kind of been keen to trackdown "American
Tidal" for a few years after it was first serialized for, I'll admit, somewhat
nostalgic reasons. Those being that for the first time after many years
Aquaman was clean shaven and back in his familiar orange and green togs
(albeit with a magical hand) and the covers by Alan Davis put me in mind
of Don Newton, a key Aquaman artist in the late 1970s/early 1980s. Plus
at six issues it seemed intended as an epic. Probably there had been other
Aquaman sagas that long, but most that I was aware of tended to be story
arcs comprised of shorter plots.
The premise is that San Diego literally falls
into the ocean, killing thousands. But when weeks later a survivor emerges
from the water, but dies on land, Aquaman realizes there may be other survivors
-- but someone has genetically altered them to be waterbreathers!
A problem with American Tidal is basically rooted
in the whole "decompression" idea of modern comics, where stories are stretched
out over multiple issues -- perhaps to make them better suited to a TPB
collection. (One suspects the thinking was American Tidal would be a TPB
-- and the fact that it's only been released as such now, many years later,
perhaps says something about the series' popularity at the time, as does
the fact that it was marking a "change of direction" for the character,
and was followed by yet another new direction a few issues down the line).
The story is pretty thin and slow. I don't mean so much that it's slow
in terms of pacing or with rambling scenes. I just mean very little seems
to occur issue by issue.
Presumably thanks to big panels and limited verbiage,
each issue only really advances the story by increments (usually there's
maybe one key bit of information added to the plot). Heck, despite six
issues and over 120 pages, there's only really four main speaking roles:
Aquaman, Lorena (a young woman Aquaman befriends), J'onn J'onzz the Martian
Manhunter (who guest stars for an issue or two) and, eventually, the villain.
So it's not like there's a lot of character stuff or sub-plots going on
beneath the broad strokes plot. While Aquaman himself never really becomes
more that a generic protagonist to keep the story moving (he barely has
any dialogue in the first issue!) That may be a fault of writer and artist
both -- in one scene where a dolphin friend of Aquaman's is killed, Aquaman's
reaction is mostly rendered in long shots and shadows, while the script
just kind of shrugs it off after a panel or two.
And it's frustrating when you get to the climax.
Although Aquaman finds the villain behind it (who, to be fair, is at least
an original character, as opposed to it simply being a recycled old foe)
it turns out other mysterious bad guys are behind him -- and they don't
get revealed. In other words in a six issue epic in which there aren't
many twists, turns, or character nuances, by the end it doesn't even wrap
up tidily.
Although the story seems to be getting away from
the fantasy/magic flavour of then-recent Aquaman comics and back to more
super hero stuff, it still retains a lingering aura of horror and grisliness
in the scenes and the (dark) visuals. And speaking of visuals -- Gleason's
art is good and detailed and robust. Though his Aquaman is maybe rendered
with a bit too much angularness to the lines, lacking the flowing organicness
of Alan Davis' covers. And, as mentioned, there's definitely a bit of a
horror vibe to the art, both in terms of simple shadows and darkness, and
in terms of the graphicness of some of the violence.
Of course you can view this in the context of
a lot of comics (with a new creative team settling in) as an attempt to
re-set the bar. The main point of the story simply seems to be to re-establish
Aquaman as once again at the head of an undersea city (since he hadn't
been king of Atlantis for awhile) and with Lorena being established as
a potential new super heroine/sidekick. Even the idea of the mysterious
cartel behind the villainy was probably intended to introduce a new, recurring
menace.
And maybe that's why it can feel a bit thin:
because it was really conceived just to establish a foundation for the
"new direction" of the series. But, then, they probably shouldn't have
spent six months on it! And Pfeifer left the series a few issues later,
so I don't know if the evil cartel was ever developed more.
Back to
Aquaman:
Sub Diego
(2015) 192 pages
Colours: Nathan Eyring. Letter: various.
