Written by Scott Beatty, Chuck Dixon. Pencils by Marcos Martin. Inked by Alvaro Lopez.
Colours: Javier Rodriguez. Letters: Willie Schubert. Editor: Matt Idelson.
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sections)
Batman: Batgirl
is reviewed here.
Batgirl: Year One2003 (SC TPB) 218 pgs
Written by Scott Beatty, Chuck Dixon. Pencils by Marcos Martin. Inked by Alvaro Lopez.
Colours: Javier Rodriguez. Letters: Willie Schubert. Editor: Matt Idelson.
Reprinting: Batgirl: Year One #1-9 (2003)
Additional notes: covers; sketch gallery
Rating: * * * 1/2 (out of 5)
Number of readings: 1
Reviewed: Mar. 2015
Published by DC Comics
For other significant Batgirl TPBs/GNs see Batman: Batgirl and Batman: The Cat and The Bat.
Batgirl: Year One follows the tradition of re-telling origin stories of iconic characters in a finite, mini-series format -- both expanding upon the original, simpler tales and re-imagining the origin to account for ways the character has developed over the years. This started after DC' Crisis on Infinite Earths when it literally was re-booting its universe (the "Year One" subtitle I think being first used for Batman: Year One though it has since been used for other series and characters, at both DC and Marvel). Although this Batgirl re-telling is a fairly late entry in the field, coming almost twenty years after Crisis, and at a point where Batgirl -- Barbara Gordon -- was no longer physically active, having become the wheelchair-bound cyber hacker, Oracle (though I think Babs has re-donned the Bat-garb more recently).
This mini-series takes us back to the innocent, halcyon days of Batgirl's origins. Barbara Gordon, daughter of police detective Jim Gordon (not yet Commissioner Gordon) has an interest in following her pop into law enforcement, but finds even he is un-encouraging. It's more by accident than design that she ends up embarking on a costumed career, having been attending a costume party in a Bat-girl costume just as it's invaded by would-be kidnappers.
Over the next few issues she pursues the life of a costumed crime fighter, keeping her dual identity secret from her dad, and receiving decidedly mixed signals for Gotham's resident caped crusaders, Batman and Robin -- Batman constantly warning her off, imperiously telling her to give up her hobby, even as Robin seems to be covertly aiding her, supplying her with necessary equipment, advice, and a Bat-cycle she couldn't afford on her librarian's salary. She also gets pointers from one or two other heroes, even teaming up with Black Canary for an issue.
Her main, recurring adversary is a costumed foe called Killer Moth -- a decidedly second rate villain who has trouble getting even the underworld to take him seriously. But things take a decidedly more serious turn when Killer Moth teams up with Firebug -- a lethal and psychotic pyromaniac, effectively up-ing the stakes.
As mentioned, these "Year One" type tales are both a chance to expand and develop upon old origins for modern, arguably more sophisticated readers, and sometimes to re-invent the tales entirely. This time out it's more of the former than the latter, with not too much here that radically diverges from any version of the story before. Heck -- the Killer Moth-at-a-costume party thing really had been her inaugural adventure back in Detective Comics #359 in the 1960s (and it might've been neat to have included that issue in this TPB). Although the Firebug -- I think another pre-existing character -- hadn't been part of that tale.
Reading about the Killer Moth here and seeing how he was explicitly meant to be Batman's opposite number, a millionaire criminal who attempts to hire himself out to criminals as basically the Reverse-Batman (villains summoning him the way cops summon Batman) -- I thought it was an interesting concept. But it turns out that was all part of the pre-existing mythos and nothing to do with Beatty and Dixon.
Anyway, the result is largely enjoyable. Part of the point is to approach Batgirl as the lighter, more human side of the Batman Family, so the saga is at times a little gentler, a little more whimsical in tone, with Barbara an appealing, wry, "normal" heroine in contrast to Batman's dark n' glowering demeanour. Although that clashes a bit with the addition of the Firebug and his tendency to use a flame-thrower, burning victims to death! (Though such scenes aren't belaboured and are, after all, meant to raise the stakes and increase the sense of menace).
Frequently there's a tendency with latter-day retro Batgirl stories to play up the darkness, to make them more in keeping with Batman, and to treat them as a kind of "loss of innocence" stories, such as the one-shot Batman: Batgirl (depicting her first encounter with The Joker), DC 1st: Batgirl/Joker (ditto, though with more emphasis on a latter-day Batgirl) and Girlfrenzy: Batgirl (with Batgirl battling a homicidal villain). So you could argue Beatty and Dixon actually go a more original route here by realizing that maybe Babs' appeal is precisely that she isn't just Batman with breasts, and should have her own personality, perspective, and milieu.
Marcos Martin's appealing art likewise straddles the different needs, being at once simple and light, even a bit cartoony, capturing a kind of gentle spirit -- even as it's equally dynamic and atmospheric, with effective character designs. If you're not familiar with his work, one could liken it in a way, to Tim Sale. There's a weird mix to the visuals of, as mentioned, a certain open and lightness, even as it still occurs in a familiarly dark and sombre Gotham City.
Because it's a "Year One" tale, there is an inevitable tendency to throw in deliberately prophetic bits or ironic lines, since the reader theoretically knows what lies ahead (such as the teaming with Black Canary when, later, Black Canary will eventually work for Babs as part of the Birds of Prey, or more notably playing on our fore-knowledge of Barbara eventually being crippled by the Joker and ending up in a wheelchair) -- sometimes overly self-consciously so (though it doesn't cast too much of a pall over the humorous bits). There's also a minor sub-plot tying in the origin of Jason Bard -- a plain clothes PI of the DC Universe who, previously, had no connection to Batgirl's origin. Although it's to somewhat pointless, or at least, self-indulgent effect (surely by linking him more intimately with the super hero stuff, it loses the point of a non-super hero character like him!)
The series is overall enjoyable, with some interesting scenes, and some occasional quirky narrative tricks (like Chapter Six, where the action is cut up ambiguously so that it's not till the end of the issue that we realize how things relate).
But if I had a main issue with it, it's something I've commented on before. Namely, well, it is nine-freaking-issues. Yet the story is fairly simple. Killer Moth (and Firebug) are the primary threat throughout (with a brief tussle with the Blockbuster thrown in) and the characters are fairly limited (even Jason Bard's appearances are minor). It's not that it feels slow or padded, or with Beatty and Dixon shamelessly stretching out minor scenes over multiple pages as some modern writers do. But equally it's not like it's complex. If you were to drag this off the shelf a few months down the line for a re-reading it's unlikely you'd re-discover sub-plots or character threads that you had forgotten about. Nor are there many subtle subtexts or anything that require multiple re-readings to really milk all the nuances from it.
Cover price: __.
Batwoman: Elegy
the issues in this TPB were also included in Batwoman by Greg Rucka, reviewed below.
Batwoman by Greg Rucka, J.H. Williams III and Jock2017 (SC TPB) 256 pgs
Written by Greg Rucka. Illustrated by J.H. Williams III, Jock.
Colours: Dave Stewart.
Reprinting: the Batwoman lead stories from Detective Comics #854-863 (2009-2010)
Additional notes: covers; sketch gallery; original script pages
Rating: * * 1/2 (out of 5)
Number of readings: 1
Reviewed: Oct. 2019
Published by DC Comics
The main part of this TPB -- #854-860 -- has also been collected under the title Batwoman: Elegy. This version collects -- I think -- the entirety of Rucka's run on Batwoman...and possibly her entire initial run in Detective Comics (she later got her own self-titled comic).
I had assumed this collection of the "new" Batwoman would be a good intro to the character. But although I believe this was the start of her own solo series (as the lead feature in Detective Comics) the character had been introduced earlier and elsewhere. So instead of getting in on the ground floor of a new property, it feels like you've already missed a few issues, with aspects of the character's backstory, and established foes, a bit cryptically referenced (although the issues collected here do end up delving into her origin/background).
Still, it hits the ground running, and the opening multi-issue arc moves at a fair clip. Unfortunately, that's not always a good thing.
First: the background. Batwoman/Kathy Kane first appeared in the 1950s (alongside her niece, Batgirl -- not to be confused with the later, more iconic Batgirl: Barbara Gordon). But the character fell into obscurity, revived just long enough to be perfunctorily killed off in the 1970s (in a story reprinted in Batman: Tales of the Demon and probably elsewhere). But that was a few DC re-boots ago. So this new Batwoman is a re-imagining (at least in that she's still called Kathy Kane). At first glance you can't help but wonder if she had originally been conceived as a re-imagining of Batgirl/Barbara Gordon in that this Kathy has red hair like Barbara (it's odd having two female Bat-heroines with red hair), and her closest confidant is her dad, an army colonel (just as Babs is close to her dad, the police commissioner). Even her most culturally significant aspect -- that she's an open and proud lesbian -- one could imagine the editors having toyed with as a characteristic grafted onto Babs (whose sexuality was never especially relevant, other than occasionally flirtations with Robin/Nightwing).
Batwoman was not the first gay/lesbian super hero in comics, but I think she laid claim to being the first to front a solo monthly series.
The opening arc in this collection has Batwoman tackling a weird mix of criminal gang and religious cult -- the Religion of Crime. The cult has recently acquired a new leader, a madwoman who calls herself Alice and speaks in nothing but quotes from Alice in Wonderland. Often a lot of modern comics (and writers) want to seem smart and adult, writing overtly gritty stories. But at first glance it's as if Rucka is turning his back on that with a kind of Old School Batman-style villain with a whimsical motiff (a crime religion? a villain modelled after Alice in Wonderland?) I mean, it's still dark n' gritty, but just feels like Rucka isn't pretending he's writing anything other than a super hero romp. At least -- that was my initial thought (more in a moment).
As mentioned, the pace is pretty brisk and, despite my grumbling about it not feeling like the "start" of a series, the opening story arc ("Elegy") then segues into an arc titled "Go" which includes flashbacks, explaining Kathy's background and what led her to become Batwoman. The art by J.H. Williams is kind of astonishing at times with an almost photo-realism and some definitely eclectic composition/panel arrangement (to mixed effect). Although it can be a bit too photo-realistic in that Batwoman sometimes looks as though she was poured into her shiny leather bat-suit; there are times when the imagery can feel a tad exploitive, which can clash with a comic intending to project a kind of feminist vibe. Oddly, colourist Dave Stewart chooses to colour the thing in a lot of washed out grey with colour highlights (like Batwoman's red hair) almost as though emulating Lynn Varley's minimalist colouring on Frank Miller's Sin City. It seems odd to have such realistic drawings and then undercut that realism with the colouring.
As a contrast, Williams draws the flashback scenes in more conventional pencil and ink -- still realistic, just more comic booky. And honestly, it works just as well -- maybe even more than the main style.
But reading these early issues I couldn't help recalling a catty review I'd read of Batwoman a few years ago. To whit: the reviewer said "I get that she's a lesbian...but when does she become interesting?" (Referring to the fact that DC itself was heavily promoting her sexuality as though a marketing gimmick).
To be fair, she's got a base-line personality and a (few) supporting characters -- but nothing particularly stand out. The problem with the bat-motiff (she's even based in Gotham City!) is that -- after Batman, Robin, Robin II, Robin III, Robin IV, Batwoman I, Batgirl I, Batgirl II, Nightwing, Huntress I, Huntress II, and who knows who else -- there's nothing intriguing or fresh about her abilities or methods (at least Man-Bat took the bat-theme in an unusual direction!) Even that wouldn't be a problem if her character and cast were allowed to develop over the course of various interesting and exciting adventures. But the Religion of Crime plot is fairly simple. It's not like Rucka teases it along as a building sub-plot while Batwoman tackles a variety of adventures/mysteries of the month plots. It's presented as a multi-chapter serial -- one with some running about and cliff-hangers, but not much in the way of plot twists or narrative complexity.
Batwoman is a pleasant enough but fairly generic superhero battling a villain with no real motive or mystery to be sussed out. For all that it's a "religion" of crime -- the villains' plot in the climax is simply to kill a lot of people for no discernable reason. I mean, at least the Penguin or the Riddler or the Scarecrow usually have some nominal goal and fathomable motive for their crimes.
I said earlier that it's as if Rucka is doubling down on the "Oh, it's just a fun comic book villainy" idea. But another interpretation is that Rucka did want to make it seem edgy and modern by creating an allegory for modern sectarian extremism and terrorism (the fact that the story's roots is in terrorists kidnapping a US military family might bear this out). But if so, it's even more problematic and vapid. Rucka trying to do a story that resonates with modern headlines -- while stripping any specifics that would allow for commentary on those headlines (on the one hand, he's not pointing the finger at any real group, on the other hand, he caricatures the villains as having no motives or grievances).
This also applies on a character level. The big twist in the story -- and I can't be too specific without being all spoiler-y -- relates to Kathy suspecting she has a personal connection to Alice. But since Alice isn't remotely a believable or nuanced personality, it saps the potential for theirs becoming a classic poignant adversarial relationship ala other memorable hero-villain pairings over the years.
This collection (though not the Batwoman: Elegy TPB) finishes with a three-parter (illustrated in a rougher, scratchier style by Jock) involving Batwoman going after a grisly serial mutilator who literally amputates body parts from his (still living) victims. Ok -- I mean, I've written before about my limited patience for the overt violence and grisliness inherent in a lot of modern comics (especially in the Bat-realm), as if the writers have only ever read Thomas Harris novels or seen the movie "Se7en" and think that's the pinnacle of creative storytelling. And I'm mostly bored by serial killer stories in general (or, in this case, serial mutilator). So -- yeah. The telling of the story is also confusing, as we cut between Batwoman and Batman (who only had a cameo in the first storyline) pursing solo investigations. I'm not sure if Rucka intended it to be puzzling, or whether I was just slow on the up-take, but it wasn't till the third issue that I understood why the two threads seemed disjointed. Even then, it's a three-part story that could've been told in two or even one issues.
The funny thing is, right around the time I was reading this I was also reading the TPB, Batman: Second Chances, which includes a single-issue story about a serial killer (by Jim Starlin and Jim Aparo) which, despite my skepticism toward the sub-genre, actually worked pretty well. But that's because Starlin's focus was on the emotional impact on Batman, whereas in this arc, Rucka's focus is more on just the procedural and the grisly, luridness. But that relates to my point about feeling that Batwoman herself doesn't emerge as enough of a distinct personality to make me care about her, one way or the other.
Of course people respond to the things that mean the most to them, and can brush off the rest. This collection features an introduction by American TV political commentator, Rachel Maddow (it's an interesting illustration of how much "geek" culture has gone mainstream that a respected, political savvy journalist like Maddow can admit to being a comic book reader). Maddow fixates a lot on Kathy's lesbianism and her military background, those clearly resonating with issues and stories Maddow has covered. And, yes, there is arguably a political bite not just to a lesbian heroine, but to having it be that she was drummed out of the U.S. army because of the Don't Ask/Don't Tell policy. But to me, those facets didn't fully compensate for the weaker aspects of the plotting and lack of fresh ideas.
I'll also admit I have a certain qualm about the way a lot of modern comics tend to put more and more emphasis on things like the police (and, as here, the military). In a lot of modern super hero comics a big chunk of the supporting cast are cops or other paramilitary types. To me part of the appeal of superheroes was the civilian/human take on conventional crime thrillers, where the heroes are essentially "normal" people (albeit with powers and abilities) with relatable concerns and foibles. When I read superhero comics where the superhero is positioned as part of the big blue wall (or the military), I'm reminded of the line from Batman: The Dark Knight Returns when Batman sneers at Superman (there depicted as the corporate sell-out): "You gave them the power that should have been ours!"
Anyway, Batwoman herself emerges in this collection, for me, as a kind of neutral figure. Not without potential, but not quite an endearing, intriguing character -- yet (nor with much spin on the overworked Bat-theme). The issues are brisk enough to keep you turning pages, without really emerging as intriguing, or cleverly plotted, sagging under their stretched-out length. I mean it's ten issues with basically only two or three stories (the fact that I was viewing "Elegy" and "Go" as essentially one plot indicating how thin each feels on their own).
Best of Marvel '961997 (SC TPB) 218 pgs
Writers:
Mark Waid, Scott Lobdell, Kurt Busiek, Karl Kesel, Larry Hama, Bill Messner-Loebs,
Todd Dezago, Tom DeFalco. Artists: Adam Kubert, Chris Bachalo, Ron
Garney, Pat Olliffe, Cary Nord, Mike Wieringo, John Buscema, Joe Bennett.
Colours/letters/editors: various.
Reprinting: Generation X #17, Fantastic Four #416, Captain America #454, Untold Tales of Spider-Man #13, Wolverine #102, Daredevil #353, Sensational Spider-Man #8, Thor #502, Onslaught: Marvel Universe
Additional notes: intros by the various writers and sometimes artists.
Rating: * * * (out of 5)
Number of readings: 1
Published by Marvel Comics
In ye days of olde, DC Comics used to publish their annual
"Year's Best Digest", reprinting 10 or so stories culled from the previous
publishing year. Most collections contained a mix of good stories, O.K.
stories, and a few forgettable efforts that were probably included just
'cause the selection editor was friends with the writer or something. But
who cared? They made nice little grab-bags of stories, some you might not
have picked up on their own, for a cheap, digest price. Eventually DC discontinued
its digests, and so to did the "Year's Best" concept disappear.
Then Marvel briefly reprised the idea in the '90s with
The Best of Marvel '95, '96 and '97. No longer cheap digests, they were
printed as expensive TPBs, but with the same hit and miss quality, and
the same appeal of being a handy little sampling of the company's line.
But Marvel, too, seems to have stopped.
Why?
Before I get into reviewing The Best of Marvel 1996, I'll
just do a little plug for the concept. Not as an expensive TPB,
like this, but printed on cheaper paper to keep the price down, or even
utilizing a digest-sized format. At a time when the
industry is constantly bemoaning its shrinking audience, yearly round ups,
collecting better-than-average, relatively self-contained stories
from a diversity of titles make a great little advertisement for the titles.
A reader buys a "best of" collection, enjoys a character he/she had never
tried before, and decides to pick up the monthly comic on the stands. Presto
-- instant increase in readership. It alsoo might encourage writers and
artists to put a little more quality into things on a monthly basis if
they knew their stories might have a shot at being selected for inclusion
-- maybe. And finally, such collections arre just...fun. A potluck
reader of four-colour fantasy, but without the pressure an all time "Greatest"
collection is under. Since it's only the "best" of a 12 month period, one
can forgive a little chaff in the wheat.
But above all, such collections need to be cheap, since
they're more impulse buys than anything.
The above enthusiasm might seem out of place since my
actual reaction to The Best of Marvels '96 was decidedly mixed. As is to
be expected, there were a couple of really good pieces, some kind run-of-the-mill
stories, and some pretty forgettable stuff, too -- most collected from
a narrow four month period!
Since this was at a time when Marvel was cancelling a
bunch of its titles (not for long, just to re-start them with new numbering
and new creative teams) one can infer this wasn't exactly a bumper year
overall. In fact, three of the stories selected (Fantastic Four, Captain
America, and Thor) are literally from the "last" issue of their respective
titles. There's also a chunk of the book devoted to "Onslaught", which
was Marvel's epic crossover story for that year -- including reprinting
the final, 48 page conclusion to that saga. But it feels too much like
we've been dropped down in the middle (which we have), with too much hitting
and not enough interesting stuff to make for a self-contained read, and
big, splashy art that's kind of confusing, and the story ending in an unsatisfying
way.
The best pieces are the FF story and the Wolverine story.
The Fantastic Four is a 10 page short that re-examines
a pivotal meeting between Reed Richards and Victor von Doom in their university
days. It's not an action piece, or a superhero piece, but Tom DeFalco deftly
manages to tell a human drama while instilling in the reader a sense of
the possibilities inherent in the title ("Roads Not Taken") -- it's a "What
if...?"-style story, even as it doesn't diverge from established
continuity. It's oddly compelling. It's also drawn by the great John Buscema,
supposedly his swan song before retirement. Though his retirement may've
been short-lived since a couple of years later he contributed to stories
reprinted in the TPB Thor: The Dark Gods.
The Wolverine story makes effective use of the split between
words and pictures that make comics unique among narrative mediums -- a
split that is rarely exploited these days. It's basically two stories,
one told entirely with pictures, another told entirely in text, both unrelated,
but thematically connected. Ironically, writer Larry Hama says in his intro
that he had intended the comic just to be the silent, picture story. Had
he stayed with that, it would've been just a novelty, rather than this
moody, memorable tale.
Other pieces are O.K. but unremarkable. Some, however,
are kind of blah. The Daredevil piece marked a (temporary) change of tone,
moving DD back to his wise-cracking roots (in a story involving an implied
rape and murder!) but isn't much when viewed just as a story unto itself.
The Captain America story has him battling baddies in South-East Asia,
but it's actually kind of uncomfortable. By virtue of wearing the flag
of a specific nation on his costume, Captain America is the one superhero
least suited to international adventure. Spider-Man represents Spider-Man,
Thor represents Thor, but Captain America represents, if only symbolically,
the U.S. government...with all the baggage, good and bad, that entails.
Ultimately, The Best of Marvel '96 starts out kind of
fun, like one of those boxes of assorted chocolates, with the reader unsure
what each bite will bring. But, I'll admit, assessing my feelings at the
end of the book, I was indifferent to more stories than I actively enjoyed.
But halve the cover price and the concept of an annual
"best of" collection, from Marvel, DC, etc., is a sound one. This was O.K.
as a grab-bag of different stories and heroes, but pricey when only a couple
of the pieces really stand out.
Cover price: $27.95 CDN./$19.95 USA.
The Best of the Spirit
is reviewed here
Birds of Prey: Of Like Minds 2004 (SC TPB) 144 pages
Written by Gail Simone. Pencils by Ed Benes. Inks by Alex
Lei with Rob Lea.
Colours: Hi Fi. Letters: John Workman, others. Editor: Lysa Hawkins.
Reprinting: Birds of Prey #56-61 (2003) - with covers
Rating: * * * 1/2 (out of 5)
Number of readings: 1
Published by DC Comics
The Birds of Prey comic book series features the original Batgirl, now a wheelchair
bound uber-hacker named Oracle who guides street level operatives, namely
the Black Canary and, more irregularly, the Huntress. In an industry that
has trouble maintaining female leads, this all-girl team has done pretty
well for itself, even having spawned a short-lived TV series. That show
fiddled with the concept, namely by making Huntress the central character
(and a version of the character that owes little to this one), but other
aspects of the comic will seem comfortably familiar to TV fans -- some
of the heart-to-hearts between Oracle and Black Canary could easily have
been conversations between Oracle and Huntress in the TV series. I mention
this because even a poorly rated TV series probably had a larger audience
than most comics, and the comic might still benefit from a crossover audience.
The Birds of Prey comic has been a generally well regarded
effort if you're looking for breezy, two-fisted action tales, often with
foes that are crooks and gangsters rather than "super" villains, and with
some emphasis on the buddy bonding between the heroines. This trade paperback collection, Birds of Prey: Of Like Minds,
showcases the beginning of a new creative team of writer Gail Simone and
artist Ed Benes (and, like a lot of recent TPBs, it's been rushed onto the
stands so that, if you pick this up, then run to the local comic shop for
the latest issue...you'll only have missed an issue or two in-between).
And, for the most part, it delivers the goods as a breezy,
action series with an emphasis on buddy bonding.
The Birds come up against Savant, an unstable villain
who's well named; he's almost as smart as Oracle, and as physically tough
as Black Canary. His stock-in-trade is blackmail and he captures Black
Canary in order to force Oracle to do his bidding, forcing Oracle to call
in the Huntress for help.
The "Of Like Minds" story occupies the first four issues,
then segues into a two-part tale that stems from the first. That's worth
noting because I can sometimes read a TPB collection, getting my taste
buds set for a complex, epic saga...only to be a bit put-off when, as here, it turns out actually
to be comprised of two shorter, and simpler, stories. The kidnapping isn't the first act in an epic story. Rather, it is the story (well, the first story, anyway). Black Canary is kidnapped, Huntress and Oracle work to rescue her.
Simone writes breezily, with an emphasis on wry humour.
The result is both enjoyable...but also a touch light-weight. Simone tells
a tale that's fun even though it should seem decidedly unpleasant, involving
as it does Black Canary having both legs broken and, later, breaking her
own thumb to escape handcuffs! Oracle is worried that the Canary, having
been through a similar ordeal (way back in Green Arrow: The Longbow
Hunters) might be traumatized...but, instead, she remains cheery and
unfazed. If this was Daredevil or Batman, it would be treated as a gruelling,
gritty saga of human endurance...here, it's all pretty glib. The tone keeps
the story from being unpleasant but, I'll admit, one can look back with
qualms about Simone's cavalier attitude toward violence.
There's an unbelievable cartooniness throughout...such
as a sequence where the Canary, in a wheelchair and with a broken hand,
easily trounces three armed thugs.
Still, Simone tells the story well enough, keeping the
pace up, and even smartly structuring it so that each chapter has its own
narrative focus. The badinage is generally amusing enough and there is
some effective quirkiness, particularly involving the villain, as well
as his henchman.
The final storyline arises from the first, but leaves
a few threads dangling, presumably for later storylines -- though it's
not to be continued, per se. Reading on-line descriptions of the next couple
of issues, the series seems to start on a new plot line.
The art by Ed Benes and inker Alex Lei borders on a guilty
pleasure. Benes is a clean, disciplined artist, nicely handling faces and
figures and backgrounds. He has a touch of a Manga style perhaps, with
a certain Eurasian cast to all the women, and all the men big and blocky,
but not so much so that it slides into caricature. The guilty pleasure
comes in because Benes also likes women, or rather, the womanly form. It's
interesting how far comics have come (or fallen, depending on your P.O.V.)
that where once critics would heap derision on sexploitive comics, this
revamped Birds of Prey has been getting mainly good press. Both Black Canary
and the Huntress feature costumes with cut-off shorts that could be defined
as just a little, ahem, cheeky. And Benes favours low angle shots so that
even when focusing on a character in the background, a perky posterior
can be featured in the foreground. Granted, Benes avoids endowing his heroines
with ridiculous measurements (at least, any moreso than any comic book
hero, male or female) and the cheesecake poses at least stem a little from
the scenes.
Though I'm ambivalent, what's not to like about beautiful babes in revealing costumes who are given some emotional texture and legitimacy
by a female writer? You can respect 'em AND ogle 'em!
All of Benes' women look identical save for their hair.
And Simone is also guilty of writing her heroines a little homogeneously. Though, to her credit, amid all the action and glibness, there's some delving
into the relationships. As seems to be the overall editorial policy at
DC Comics, the characters are portrayed a lot as if they're wisecracking
teenagers. At times I wondered if Simone and Benes were angling for a gig
doing Buffy the Vampire Slayer comics. I can't say I fully recognized these
characters as the Barbara Gordon and Dinah Lance I remembered from days
gone by.
The fact that the series is written by a woman probably
gives it a teflon coating. I mean, with Black Canary spending much of the
story bound, battered and stretched out on a bed, with some risqué
dialogue, and banter emphasizing the skimpiness of the costumes, it's hard
to imagine a man writing this stuff and not getting hauled onto the carpet
for sexism.
Simone also has an unfortunate tendency to treat morality
as a kind of fluid concept. Sadly, she's not alone. Characters might debate
right and wrong, and even argue liberal views...but, in Simone's world
view, ethics are just something to be paid lip service to, nothing more.
Ultimately, what can one say? Fun and sexy and well paced,
with some quirky twists and turns, this collection actually makes me open
to reading further adventures...even as, breezy and superficial as it is,
it admittedly falls a bit short of being riveting drama.
Cover price: $22.95 CDN/ $14.95 USA
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