The
Masked Bookwyrm's Graphic Novel (& TPB) Reviews
The Flash (Page 1)
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for other Flash appearances see Justice League of America, Justice Society of America, Crisis on Infinite Earths, DC The New Frontier, Flashpoint, and others
Flash & Green Lantern: The Brave and the Bold (2001) 144 pgs.
Written
by Mark Waid, Tom Peyer. Illustrated by Barry Kitson, Tom Grindberg.
Colors: Lovern Kindzierski. Letters: Ken Lopez. Editor: Peter Tomasi,
L.A. Williams.
Reprinting: the six issue 1999-2000 mini-series (with covers)
Rating: * * * * 1/2 (out of 5)
Number of readings: 2
Whenever comics folks instigate major, "shocking" changes into the mythos -- they often seem to forget that today's fan can become tomorrow's professional. And nostalgia is a powerful motive. So even though, when this mini-series was first published, DC had "irrevocably" killed off the Silver Age Flash (Barry Allen) and had corrupted and then killed off the Silver Age Green Lantern (Hal Jordan), writers like Mark Waid and Tom Peyer weren't quite prepared to give up on them and produced this nostalgia tinged retro series. Of course, nothing is ever really permanent in comics, no matter what one writer or editorial regime says, because regimes change, and "hot" writers rise up through the ranks with a burning affection for their childhood heroes, supplanting the previous "hot" writer. Both Hal and Barry have since returned to life in the DCU. But, as I say, when this was published, they were both dead -- and it was assumed forever -- and this was an affectionate throwback: a tribute to a past era(s).
Originally published as a six issue mini-series,
it presents six adventures chronicling the friendship between the Silver
Age Flash, Barry Allen, and the Silver Age Green Lantern, Hal Jordan -- a friendship that had been introduced in the old comics and was part of the mythos.
Co-writer Mark Waid has played the nostalgia card often,
such as 1998s JLA: Year One mini-series
which he co-wrote with Brian Augustyn and 2000s The Silver Age mini-series,
in which Waid was a driving force among a number of writers. Both projects were of mixed success. Here, Waid re-teams with frequent collaborator, artist Barry Kitson, and they are joined by co-writer Tom Peyer.
The result? A fantastic success.
Waid & Peyer do a nice job of couching the character
stuff in plots, recognizing that character is best demonstrated in the
context of surrounding events -- and vice versa (rather than ten pages of characters explaining their motives and emotions followed by ten pages of mindless fighting). The plots are, for the most part, interesting, briskly paced and
presenting the characters with tricky situations that require a bit of
thinking their way through (and frequently drawing upon their combined skills, making it a true "team up"), and stories that unfold, with twists and turns -- stories that actually
are
stories. It borrows the better elements from Silver Age writers like John
Broome and Gardner Fox, but spruced up with modern character exploration,
and a healthy dose of wit and humour as well. Sure, the desire to work some emotional subtext into the tales can, at times, border on hokey, but it allows each tale to feel richer and deeper than the average, each issue functioning simultaneously as a plot, where we're excited to see how the danger is thwarted...and as a character drama.
It's the ideal homage -- evoking the spirit of days gone
by, while gently keeping it in step with modern, arguably sophisticated
expectations. Even Waid's tendency to write these ostensibly adult, professional
characters occasionally like they're immature teenagers didn't grate as
much as it had in JLA: Year One or The Silver Age. And that's
more in the early issues anyway, as though Waid & Peyer are trying
to convey a sense of the characters maturing over the course of the stories. And Waid doesn't fall into the trap of certain other post-Crisis GL writers whose desire to turn Hal into a womanizing super stud can border on misogynistic. Indeed, the whole sub-text here, that Hal's personal life is constantly teetering on the edge, is a nice contrast with the modern take on him as the super confident alpha dog (and is more reflective of the character in the Silver and Bronze Age).
The stories alternate between earth-based and space oriented
adventures, all deliberately evoking specific periods in the characters' history (particularly demonstrated by Hal's job and love interest changing from story to story...in contrast with Barry's more stable private life). The first
two issues conjure up a sense of old Broome or Fox style stories, with
#1 steeped in a nice sci-fi idea, and #2 throwing Kid Flash into the mix
(as stories from that period often did) and a couple of super-villains
just being, well, super-villains. While #5 nicely feels like a Bronze Age
tale (ie: late 1970s).
Issue #4 is set amid the classic Denny O'Neil/Neal Adams
socially relevant run on Green Lantern/Green Arrow,
when he was teamed with Green Arrow, and it has the two greenies hooking up
with the Flash (something that didn't happen in those old stories). There's a social
issue to be examined (albeit in a fantastical way) and for that story regular artist Kitson hands the pencilling
chores over to Tom Grindberg -- an artist with a style decidedly reminiscent
of Neal Adams. Though not flawless (Waid & Peyer lift a few too many
lines from O'Neil) the result seems eerily like a "lost" O'Neil/Adams story.
There's also ambitious character stuff, in that an undercurrent to the
story is that the Flash is jealous of GL's friendship with GA...but it's
never fully articulated. You almost have to read between the lines.
Because the series goes the unusual route of being self-contained
stories,
it's worth picking up even if you can only find one or two issues. All
are satisfying reads on their own. The third issue is a "character" issue,
where the plot, and the adventure, is minimal. But Waid & Peyer pull
it off well, making it still a light, entertaining read as Flash and GL
go camping with their older, Golden Age counterparts on an alien world, encountering
misadventures more than adventures.
After an initial reading, I felt the weakest was the final issue. Though even it was perfectly good. In my initially posted review I said it was a bit confusing but, I'll admit, after a second reading I saw less of that. Maybe I just read it in a better frame of mine now, or maybe I'm just more aware of the surrounding mythos than I had been (as it involves GL's old foe, Star Sapphire). But I liked it more the second time around. And one
can admire the fact that, though reflecting the grittiness of later periods
(it's set shortly after the death of the Flash's wife -- though didn't
she come back eventually, too?) it still takes place long before the more contentious
upheavals that soured the comics for some readers.
The beautiful art by Barry Kitson is of a nicely disciplined,
realist variety that suits the stories well, though he maybe bulks up the
characters a tad. Villain Sinestro looks more like a linebacker than the
lean, mean, red-faced baddie I remember. Indeed, this may be some of the best work I've seen by Kitson -- maybe inking himself brings out extra nuance and moody texture to the lines. Or maybe he was just particularly enthusiastic about this project.
There are some missed opportunities: no guest appearance
by another Flash buddy, The Elongated Man, and little use of fellow Green
Lanterns (save in one story, and then only in passing). But they do appear, as do the Guardians, various familiar arch foes, and cameoes by one or two supporting characters from the different periods. And the issues
range from good to very good, and that's more than one can say about
six consecutive issues of, well, almost any title one might care to pick up. There's not a mediocre tale in the bunch.
Seeing these two as a team reminds you how well they looked
together, with the simple-but-effective costume designs (some pundits have
argued the Silver Age GL's costume, designed by Gil Kane, was one of the
more aesthetically pleasing in comics history) and the dynamically contrasting
colours: the Flash's (bright) red and yellow, and GL's (dark) green and
black. And their powers complemented: GL who could do almost anything contrasted
with The Flash who had only one power (but made the most of it). Heck,
they both even used rings!
Whether at the time this fired modern readers with an interest
in these then-dead Silver Age icons, it's hard to say. Ironically, even now, years later and with both Hal and Barry back appearing in comics, this run of issues can still make you nostalgic for an earlier era -- of clever, self-contained plots, and compassionate heroes, where mindless violence hasn't become a synonym for "adventure".
It's worth checking out
just for the fun and the solid storytelling that is, frankly, missing from a lot of
modern comics -- as each single issue provides a complete story of adventure,
character arc, and thematic threads. For older fans, this is nostalgia
done right, mixing the best of yesterday and today. You may not be able
to go home again, but Flash & Green Lantern: The Brave and the Bold
comes pretty darn close.
The
Flash: Blood Will Run 2002 (SC
TPB) 192 pages
Written by Geoff Johns. Pencils by Scott Kolins. Inks
by Doug Hazlewood, Jose Marzan, Jr.
Colours: James Sinclair, Tom McCraw. Letters: various. Editor: Joey
Cavalieri.
Reprinting: The Flash (2nd series) #170-176, The Flash Secret Files #3 (lead story only) - plus covers - 2001
Rating: * * * (out of 5)
Number of readings: 1
Published by DC Comics
Prior to reading this, I'd never actually read a Flash
comic post-Barry Allen (the Silver Age
version of the character), though I'd come across the Wally West-Flash
in the pages of the JLA and Teen Titans. (Subsequently I read the Wally
saga The Return of Barry Allen -- reviewed next page)
The Blood Will Run story arc only comprises the first
half of this TPB. A sub-plot introduced in Blood Will Run, involving a
toddler who may be Wally's illegitimate son, is answered in a later two-part
story, so maybe the editors felt the run of #170-176 comprised a story
arc...except there's another plot thread that isn't resolved here, involving
someone calling together various Flash foes.
It's almost as if DC were trying to emulate Marvel's Essential
books (wherein a block of consecutive issues are reprinted) or maybe DC
intends to publish a kind of Flash library, collecting all issues...though,
if so, I'm so far unaware of a TPB picking up with #177. (Added: O.K.,
so they did -- Flash: Rogues) But the result is a TPB that isn't
quite focused enough that you can say, O.K., this is the plot, and neither
does it tie together neatly enough to form a self-contained saga.
Anyhoo, on to the review.
Blood Will Run has a series of murders sweeping Keystone
City, perpetrated by a cult -- their victims being people the Flash had
previously saved from death. Despite my initial qualms about the violence
of the story -- I don't really think of the Flash as being a character
ideally suited to tackling serial killers and mass murders -- and, frankly,
my qualms about escalating violence in comics in general -- where death
has become so trivialized, comics writers casually murder hundreds just
to get a story off the ground -- I kind of liked the early part of the
story. Part of the flavour of these Flash comics is to emphasize Keystone
City as a blue collar, industrial town, appropriately rendered with washed
out colours, giving things a kind of drab, grey look. It kind of put me
in mind of movies and TV shows from the 1970s, the era of the working class
hero. I liked Kollins' bold, fairly clear, art. And I enjoyed watching
the story unfold as a story. However it turns out to be shorter than I
expected, and instead of the beginning of an epic...it just kind of resolves
a bit disappointingly. Even confusingly with it never quite clear what
the rank and file of the cultists hope to achieve. Supposedly they want
immortality...but they happily sacrifice their lives for their leader.
After that, there's a filler issue which seems kind of
half-done, the villain being ill-explained, or motivated, then a battle
with the Weather Wizard, then another story of the Flash tackling some
of his rogues gallery (and another bloody serial killer to boot!).
I didn't dislike this collection, but I'll admit the first
few issues had me thinking I was going to like it more than I did. Or,
put another way, I'm not going to bad mouth the series, but I'm not rushing
out to add the Flash to my monthly must buy list, either.
Overall, little of the plotting sticks with me. Johns
tries to pad out the supporting cast -- no less than three semi-permanent
characters seem to be introduced in these pages (although maybe Det. Morillo
had already been there before) -- but there aren't a lot in the way of
sub-plots. There's lots of modern-style jokes and humourous asides, and
scenes -- like Wally having dinner with his in-laws -- but not too much
in the way of dramatic, interesting sub-plots that you kind of wonder
where they're headed.
Maybe I just read this wrong. After all, it took a bit
of getting used to Johns' Wally West as a bit of goof off and reformed
womanizer, given to making disparaging remarks about his parents. The Wally
West I remembered was basically level-headed and had a good relationship
with his folks. But I guess that was the pre-Crisis
version. This Wally seems more like the stock personality DC has imposed
on a lot of its characters these days, as if DC doesn't think its audience
can handle grown up heroes. Despite being a married man, he's written a
little like an arrested adolescent. Contrasted with the Silver Age Flash
-- button-downed Barry Allen, scientist -- it was a bit of a shock. Though
there were some interesting ideas, like Wally not concealing his real identity.
Flash's powers have been augmented over the years so that
he can do all sorts of wild n' woolly things like sap kinetic energy from
things, and (seeming) fire electricity. I dunno. I thought the appeal of
the Flash was that he could run fast. The trick was to see the different,
novel ways a writer could employ that.
And the nifty-cool costume-in-a-ring gimmick has been
dropped entirely!
I'm also just not that big on the way police characters
seem to be proliferating like mad in super hero comics -- all the newly
added supporting characters here are cops. That's fine...if this was a
cop comic. But it's a super hero comic, and I always thought of super heroes
as being kind of everyman heroes, empowering the little guy, where the
action heroics gets contrasted with the mundane normalacy of a supporting
cast of friends and family far removed from that crimebustin' world. Clearly,
that's not what DC is going for, either here, or in contemporary Batman
comics.
Another curious thing I've noticed is the treatment of
ethnicity. I was pretty sure Linda, Wally's wife, is supposed to be Oriental.
But, y'know, it's awfully hard to tell here. I assume it's just a problem
with the colouring and drawing. It's hard to imbue faces with ethnic characteristics.
But I've noticed other comics where it's unclear what people are supposed
to be. The cynic in me almost wonders if that's on purpose. On one hand,
there are more non-white characters in comics these days, on the other
hand, it's as if comic publishers want to make it ambiguous enough so as
not to lose neo-Nazi readers. But that's just the cynic in me.
I mean, is Det. Morillo supposed to be black? Or Latino?
Or what?
I went into this, having got it on a whim, unsure what
to think. The first couple of issues won me over, even as the rest kind
of cooled my enthusiasm. But, really, I think after another read I'll probably
regard this all as O.K., if unspectacular stuff. Although the dangling
plot thread of the mysterious person gathering villains was annoying.
Maybe, though, I shouldn't have read an old Barry Allen-Flash
comic while I was reading this TPB -- the comparison wasn't too flattering
for Wally.
The
Flash: The Death of Iris West (2021) 280 pages
Written by Cary Bates. Pencils by Alex Saviuk, Don Heck, with Irv Novick, Rich Buckler, John Calnan. Inks by Frank Chiaramonte, Frank McLaughlin, others.
Colours: Gene D'Angelo. Letters: Ben Oda, Milt Snapinn.
Reprinting: The Flash (1st series) #270-284 -- plus covers (1979-1980)
Rating: * * * * 1/2 (out of 5)
Number of readings: 1
Reviewed: May 2024
Published by DC Comics
Arguably The Death of Iris West collection was both a long time coming...and also maybe not. That is: although The Flash seemed to have been a solid seller throughout the Silver & Bronze Age, it rarely achieved any creative high water marks or its issues making any Year's Best lists. And with the advent of the graphic novel/TPB collection, it wasn't exactly being strip mind for collections. Most Flash (older) collections are from the post-Crisis era (when Wally West was the Flash) or volumes favouring the 1960s over the 1970s.
Cary Bates seemed to be at the writing helm for much of this "Bronze Age" period (arguably enjoying one of the longest associations any writer has had with a character), perhaps because he was the only writer who seemed to enjoy the gig, generally maintaining a kind of goofy, Old School charm to the character even as other super hero series were becoming more ambitious and gritty.
Prior to this collection's release, the main Bates-Flash collection was of issues from a few years later -- the epic The Trial of the Flash omnibus that ended the original Flash comic run.
Yet I say this was a long time coming because IF you were going to put together a Flash collection from the Bronze Age, this was clearly THE story arc to do and I kind of expected DC would get to it sooner or later.
I'm pretty sure this was the product of a kind of editorial re-thinking for the comic. As I mentioned, Bates had been writing The Flash as though little had changed since the 1960s. Fun, imaginative adventures, but leaning heavily on goofy logic, outrageous story elements, and not a great deal of emotional depth. Barry Allen a.k.a. The Flash a likeable hero, but not much more. And most plots happily contained to an issue or two.
So it feels like this was Bates being directed to try something a little different, a little more modern. Right from the beginning he kickstarts a series of plot threads that will be teased out through the next few issues, bubbling along behind the more familiar surface adventures. And plot lines with varying degrees of intrigue...and gritty sophistication. And surprisingly -- yet perfect for a collected edition -- it all does play out as a graphic novel: the first issue (#270) really does feel like a beginning of this new style of storytelling. And most of the threads get resolved before we reach issue #284.
Within the first issue or two we get: police scientist Barry Allen (a.k.a. The Flash) invited to participate in a prison rehabilitation program meant to literally brainwash criminals into being law-abiding (in shades of a Clockwork Orange or the Doctor Who serial, The Mind of Evil) -- raising some ethical red flags for Barry. Plus Barry suspects someone within the police department is smuggling drugs. And his relationship with his wife, Iris, is beginning to fray, Iris resenting the way his Flash identity weighs on his time. And in a more outlandish thread, a mysterious teenage girl starts to appear in the Flash's life with the ability to psychically control him! Plus for the first few issues a new villain has blown into town -- a mysterious and sinister clown who actually does succeed in being as creepy as the Joker in his own way (thanks to being generally silent).
All those threads are more than enough to keep the pages turning -- and the issues flipping by.
However, if Bates seems to throw himself into the sub-plot/soap opera-y style of writing with the same guileless imagination he demonstrated when churning out Silver Age inspired whimsy, it's also fair to say that the vibe remains intact. For better or worse.
The characterization isn't especially deep or sophisticated or holds up to much scrutiny -- from the Barry/Iris marital trouble to a new cop Barry meets in one issue and is being described as his "best" friend an issue or two later! It's corny, it's juvenile, it's...well, it's very much Bates of the era. But the reason I say "for better or worse" is because that's part of its charm. Keep your expectations of sophistication low and the sheer storytelling chutzpa remains fun. Some of the plots evolve and escalate -- the prison experiment ends up backfiring, creating a rogue, psychotic killer that'll plague the Flash through most of this arc (and tying into Iris's murder); while others seem to peter out as if even Bates had no clear idea where to take them -- such as the telepathic teen who drifts in and out of the action.
This brings us to the central murder of the title -- a shocking plot twist for a series which had previously been fairly light and which involves a character who had been part of the series since the Silver Age Flash was created in the 1950s. And yes, it can seem problematic -- both because of how Bates portrays Iris in the issues leading up to her murder and the fact that the killing of female characters is a cliche that has come under heavier scrutiny over the years. But maybe the fact that the Flash comic wasn't that deep or sophisticated makes it work a bit better. We can feel the shock of Iris's death -- without (probably) too many readers caring overmuch (the comic book Iris is no Candice Patton, after all!)
Although one can wonder if Bates was just writing it as he went, throwing in all those sundry plot threads without a clear picture of where it was headed. The prison experiment thing never fully makes sense, nor when the prisoner starts exhibiting super powers is that fully explained. And the mystery around Iris's death has some interesting clues and twists...but also a lot of wheel spinning and where certain key facts only seem to crop up when Bates needs them (as if he only belatedly thought of them).
But despite all the more edgy/gritty threads, the comic also remains steadfastly innocent, with outrageous Flash stunts and mishaps, logic defying death traps, and a few races into the time stream!
But interestingly, and perhaps part of Bates' desire to make this seem more sophisticated than previous adventures, very few arch foes crop up. Which is interesting to note. In "classic" Silver Age/Bronze Age DC epics such as Aquaman's Search for Mera, Superman's Kryptonite Nevermore, and even Wonder Woman's Twelve Labours (all collected in different volumes) there was often a derth of recurring foes; whereas nowadays, epics often trend toward a greatest hits parade of the hero's rogues gallery. Here, even the few that do appear -- notably Captain Boomerang and Heat-Wave -- do so in atypical ways.
At least until arch nemesis Professor Zoom, the Reverse Flash, enters the saga toward the end and becomes the primary foe for the final few issues. (There are also a few superhero guest appearances and cameos -- enough to add some colour to the proceedings, but sparingly enough they don't detract from this being a Flash epic).
The art is a lot like Bates writing: lacking polish but getting the job done.
After some one-off turns (including Irv Novick who had been the regular artist) Alex Saviuk assumes the regular art chores for a number of issues. Then he is replaced by Don Heck. Neither I would say are pretty artists, or as accomplished as Novick or Rich Buckler. But they tackle Bates's at times crazy scripts with a certain gusto, telling the scenes, conveying what needs to be conveyed. And both artists can offer an imaginative quirk or two (such as Saviuk, when drawing Captain Boomerang's lair, giving him a boomerang-shaped ash tray). In another comic, with another hero, and different scripts, I might be more critical. But somehow for this Bates-Flash epic, the visuals suit the material.
In case it's unclear: I enjoyed this epic saga -- quite possibly the only epic to feature the Silver Age/Bronze Age Flash (even the later Trial of the Flash seemed less of an epic graphic novel plot and more just a loose story arc threading through separate adventures). Is it goofy, corny, and even kind of dumb? Well -- yeah. But that's kind of the fun of the Flash and Bates's approach to the series: maintaining the Old School charm of superheroes, which is people with amazing powers doing amazing things, even if it tests the boundaries of physics...and logic. Yet by virtue of the sub-plot heavy storytelling that builds and teases along and climaxes after many issues, it also boasts an ambition and sophistication absent from a lot of the Flash stories of that era -- and, indeed, a lot of contemporary series. And one that keeps you turning the pages, curious to see how it will all play out.
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