GRAPHIC NOVEL and TRADE PAPERBACK (TPB) REVIEWS

Invasion 2008 (SC TPB) 256 pages

Plot, breakdowns by Keith Giffen. Script by Bill Mantlo. Pencils by Todd McFarlane, Keith Giffen, Bart Sears. Inked by P. Craig Russell, Al Gordon, Joe Rubinstein, Tom Christopher, Dick Giordano, Pablo Marcos.
Colours: Carl Gafford, Gene D'Angelo. Letters: Gaspar, Augustin Mas, John Costanza. Editor: Andrew Helfer, Kevin Dooley.

Reprinting the three issue mini-series

Rating: * * 1/2 (out of 5)

Number of readings: 1

Published by DC Comics

One of DC Comics' many multi-title crossover epics, Invasion was a mini-series comprised of three massive, 80 page issues (no ads), totalling a giddy 240 pages!

The problem sometimes with such crossover sagas is that because they spin-off into various on going comics like Superman, Wonder Woman, etc., there's the danger that you won't really get a satisfying story just reading the mini-series. One of the first such crossovers, The Crisis on Infinite Earths, wasn't bad in that regard, but Legends was more problematic as it read at times like pages were missing from the story.

Still, I'd read good reviews of Invasion, and since each issue was 80 pages, I figured that left a lot of room to tell a story in its own pages, regardless of what might be happening in other titles.

The premise concerns evil alien races -- most familiar to regular DC readers -- who unite in order to conquer earth. The instigators of the invasion, the Dominators, are curious about earth's preponderance of super heroes, and want to learn why it is that so many humans manifest meta-human abilities.

The first issue (The Alien Alliance) is the build up, showing this alliance form and the invasion begin (at which point it spins-off into various other titles).

The second issue (Battleground Earth) is the slam bam conclusion, as earth's various heroes manage to trounce the aliens. It actually seems like the end -- but this is, after all, a three issue series.

The third issue (World Without Heroes) has the aliens, in a final strike before leaving, hitting earth with a gene bomb aimed at meta-humans that is harmless to normal people but threatens to kill many of earth's heroes.

I enjoyed the first issue quite a bit. Keith Giffen is credited with story and lay outs, which was the same position he had on such subsequent, disappointing mini-series as Aquaman (1989) and Green Lantern: Emerald Dawn. Bill Mantlo, who can run hot and cold, did the actual writing, while Todd McFarlane, the fan favourite artist who I've never much appreciated, did the pencilling (with various inkers). With my pre-exiting feelings about those three, I had my doubts, but this was a rare case where their combined talents seemed to amount to something greater than the sum. I liked the writing and the art. Perhaps because McFarlane spent most of the story drawing aliens, his suspect grasp of human anatomy was less obvious, and his pencils over Giffen's layouts resulted in some truly intimidating shots of the alien armada. While Mantlo's writing was crisp and clever at times.

Despite the focus being on the aliens, there are threads involving characters like space hero Adam Strange, who is captured by the Alliance, but plots how to use that to earth's advantage. There's a nice sense of a build up, creating an ominous mood, and, with 80 pages to work with, there's a sense of a real epic brewing.

Unfortunately, with the second issue, the nature of the crossover manifests itself, as we skip a lot of stuff that occurred in other comics between the publication of issues #1 and #2 (though handily recapped at the beginning of #2). Still, we've got another 80 pages of uninterrupted story for us to get back in the mood of the thing. But here Giffen's plotting, that had been so bland on those subsequent mini-series, once again manifests itself. To be fair, it's not just Giffen's fault...most crossovers tend to be weak on story. So busy just trying to work in cameos by as many super heroes as they can, they're often just a lot of big fight scenes where the heroes are depicted with a certain anonymity -- one hero's dialogue could've been uttered by any other. And Giffen, whose ethics I questioned in his Aquaman mini-series (which was just a rehash of Invasion, except on a smaller scale) shows similar tendencies here, such as having the heroes staging a sneak attack on the aliens during a cease fire -- a cease fire the heroes themselves requested! And given this is a "war", few of the heroes seem particularly adverse to using lethal force.

Plot threads that had been intriguing in issue #1 -- such as the Adam Strange sub-plot, or a sequence with the Spectre -- don't really go anywhere. Still, it's not a terrible read, but a disappointment after the first issue won me over. Other than a sub-plot involving one of the alien races, the Daxamites, re-thinking their allegiances, I can't recall much about this issue at all! McFarlane draws the first half, and now that he's drawing people regularly, his shortcomings are more obvious; Giffen drawns the second half capably.

The third issue is oddly self-contained, not just from crossovers into other titles (except for some odd stuff with Superman -- which I think relates to stories collected as Superman: Exile and is reviewed in my Superman section), but even from the first two issues. In fact, if you can only find #1 & #2 together, or #3 by itself, you could still read them without needing the other. But though there are lots of characters running about, with a particular emphasis put on non-super characters that had been occupying DC's titles at the time (Amanda Waller, the tough talking co-ordinator of The Suicide Squad, or Maxwell Lord, who oversaw Justice League International), there's still precious little that amounts to genuine characterization, or human drama. Super heroes not affected by the gene-bomb, such as a couple of Green Lanterns, J'onn J'onzz, and others, eventually head off into space to try and steal a cure from the retreated Dominators, but even this adventure-plot is kind of bland and rudimentary in its execution. Still, this last issue is drawn by Bart Sears and is arguably the best illustrated of the bunch.

Invasion is undermined a little by its basic conceit -- a crossover story involving all of DC's heroes. Instead of getting plot twists and characterization, we get a lot of panels crammed with costumed heroes and big, linear fight scenes. It would be better with such sagas to focus on a few characters whose emotions and motives can be explored and who can serve as consistent leads throughout (or throughout an issue, at least), even if others are reduced to cameos.

Like many crossovers, the series was used as a launching pad for new titles. This is always awkward. In a story that is having enough trouble finding room for existing characters, the heroes must be further short changed in order to showcase new ones. This is particularly ironic, when read years later, since most of those "hot" new properties never went anywhere (spin offs like Blasters mustered a single special before slipping into obscurity, while L.E.G.I.O.N. went for about five years -- not bad, though in an industry where successful titles run for decades, that's not that impressive either).

Also like many crossovers, a few (minor) existing characters are killed off -- something I always find annoying. If you're going to kill off a character, don't do it simply because DC is cleaning house, or needs a sacrificial lamb to make its marketing ploy mini-series seem more epochal than it is.

Ultimately, Invasion starts out promising, and if all you want is a chance to see lots of DC heroes -- circa the late 1980s -- in action and cameos, it's O.K. But if you were hoping for a 240 page epic of adventure, intrigue, intelligent plotting and thoughtful characterization -- look elsewhere.

This is a review of the story as it was originally serialized in the comics.

Cover price: $ __ CDN./ $24.99 USA

Invincible: Ultimate Collection, vol. 1 2005 (HC) 290 pages

Written by Robert Kirkman. Illustrated by Cory Walker, Ryan Ottley.
Colours: Bill Crabtree. Letters: Robert Kirkman.

Reprinting: Invincible #1-13

Which were also reprinted in three TPBs: Invincible: Family Matters (rep. #1-4), Invincible: Eight is Enough (rep. #5-8), Invincible: Perfect Strangers (rep. #9-13)

Rating: * * * (out of 5)

Number of readings: 3

Recommended for Mature Readers

Published by Image Comics

The funny thing is, I've had this for a while -- but hadn't posted a review. And that's 'cause I found myself wobbling back and forth. In fact, I did post a review of the second TPB volume at www.ugo.com here. and, looking it over, I realize I was quite enthusiastic about the series. Strangely, Invincible seems to be something where the more I read, or the more times I re-read the same issues, the more my enthusiasm seems to wane. Or maybe I'm just a grumpy old cuss.

Invincible is about teenage Mark Grayson -- a second generation super hero whose father is the Superman-like Omni Man. But this is no family secret, no revelation Mark learns on his father's death bed or anything (as other stories about second generation super heroes have been). Rather, Mark lives in the bosom of his nuclear family, where mom makes the lunches and dad zips off to fight giant monsters, while Mark deals with the everyday of going to school, flipping burgers at his after school job, etc. When he suddenly begins to manifest super powers, Mark's reaction is a pleased but phlegmatic: "It's about time."

And thus he begins his super heroing career...and thus begins Robert Kirkman's mix of action, comedy, drama and parody, as Mark sets out to be a super hero in a world where his dad can show him the ropes -- and introduce him to the super hero community's costume designer! -- and where at his first encounter, he is invited to join the resident teen age group, the Teen Team.

The first four issues (originally collected as Family Matters) establish the core concepts and, though rambling and episodic, do tell a self-contained story arc -- literally! The first issue begins with an action scene...then we jump back six months and that scene isn't repeated until the fourth issue. But these early issues seem to be finding their way a bit, as the creators settle on the right mix of comedy and drama, in a series that is both a sly spoof of the super hero genre...and a serious super hero story where serious things occur with serious consequences.

Part of the point is to focus as much on Mark as on his alter ego of Invincible, where the day-to-day of his life at school and dealing with friends are given as much page time as his super heroing. And this sort of works -- putting a human focus on the super human story -- and it sort of doesn't. The problem, in a way, is that Mark's everyday life is rather, well, dull. He has few worries about money, math or dates -- in a way, his "normal" life seems as much a fantasy as his super heroing. If he has a hassle at work -- he just quits. When Stan Lee and the gang put as much emphasis on Peter Parker's life as they did Spider-Man's in the old Spider-Man comics, it worked because Peter's life was dramatic (and funny) on its own.

Kirkman and company also come from the "decompression" movement in comics -- where little scenes are stretched out over a lot of pages. Scenes that would be cute for a couple of panels get stretched out over a couple of pages, and conversations that might have more impact condensed into a couple of well chosen sentences take up reams of paragraphs. Kirkman and company even cheekily draw attention to what they're doing in a scene where Mark meets a comic book artist who talks about how scenes can be padded out by simply repeating the same image over again.

Kirkman also seems to be following in the footsteps of a lot of modern creators who like the idea of playing with an already established super hero universe -- even if it's not already established. So instead of developing this reality, we are tossed into an instant universe of pre-existing super teams and arch foes. And as part of this short hand creativity, Kirkman happily fills it out with characters that are meant to be knowing homages/rip-offs/parodies of established super heroes.

But by constantly throwing in homages to everything from Star Trek to comic book villain Kobra, Kirkman pretends he's creating a reality when all he's doing is piggy backing his ideas on others' creativity, while coccooning his lack of originality in a critic-proof shield of parody. And the idea of Invincible spending a few pages fighting a villain where we never really know why (because that "plot" happens off the page) seems a bit, well, lazy.

Ironically, Kirkman loves the idea of continuity -- but often more in its regards to throw away bits and jokes. In issue #1, Mark accidentally tosses a garbage bag into orbit. In issue number 5, we cutaway to the garbage crashing to earth -- in a scene that is amusing if you had read #1...completely bewildering and unexplained if you hadn't! The series is full of that -- little cutaway scenes that will make no sense if you haven't been following the series. Yet when it comes to the more serious plot developments, Kirkman doesn't thread things quite as cleverly. There's a major twist part way through these issues -- of the "nothing will ever be the same!!!" variety. Yet even re-reading the prior issues, you can't really say there are any hints or foreshadowing of it.

Which maybe is the fundamental problem. I first read volume 2, and really enjoyed it, loving it as much for its promise as for itself, aware that I was missing a lot of the greater context. But having now read the entire 13 issue opening arc, a couple of times, I find that Invincible is something which kind of loses, rather than gains, something in multiple readings. There's an inherent shallowness to it all...even despite its shift into darker, more serious turns. It's a breezy little confection that is initially fun because it's so obviously fuelled by a fan boy geek sensibility and a self-reflective sense of whimsy...but fails to quite rise above that.

Like so many modern comics (in the wake of Alan Moore's The Watchmen) seeking to find the "reality" in the fantasy, I'd argue once again, Kirkman and company (like Moore) have kind of missed the point. There are moments of believability -- a beautiful, minor scene where Mark is in outer space for the first time and just stops to look around him -- but in other ways, Kirkman doesn't seem to realize how a real person would react in certain situations. Kirkman imbues Mark with some autobiographical aspects by making him a fan of comic books and zombie movies (Kirkman writes the zombie comic Walking Dead), but then has Mark witness things like a school chum being blown up before his eyes...without so much as batting an eye!

In fact, Kirkman's cavalier approach to "collateral damage" undermines the very "humanity" that he would seem to be trying to emphasize (maybe being so into horror movies, as Kirkman is, really does warp your ability to feel compassion?!?).

And what started out seeming an "all ages" romp gets increasingly less so, with racy humour and ultra gory violence making it for "mature readers". If the series had started out that way, fine, but even Kirkman acknowledges in an editorial (printed in one of the TPB volumes) that he was aware the series was perceived as somewhat family friendly, and that people might be put off by the sudden -- and uncautioned -- switch. The series isn't even sold with any "mature warning" warning on the cover (hence why leaving publishers to rate themselves is a bad idea).

The art on the series starts out by Cory Walker, then is assumed by Ryan Ottley. Both men have sufficiently similar styles that there isn't a significant visual shift in the series, and the art is of an open, cartoony style that is kind of appealing -- energetic and telling the scenes well. But though the style suits the series, which, after all, straddles comedy and drama, it kind of gives it a sort of Archie Andrews look and maybe ads to my feeling of distance, of not quite getting into the emotional heart of the characters.

These 13 issues were also released in smaller TPB collections. The first volume (Family Matters) is still finding it's way in terms of tone, but at least it provides an appropriate jumping in point, and does introduce a story arc that begins and ends in those issues, making it the most satisfying read on its own. The second collection (Eight is Enough) is more problematic -- it was the first one I read, and I really enjoyed it, it exciting me about the series. But it's also obviously just a middle act, either featuring a dramatic revelation that will have less impact if you haven't read the earlier issues, or clearly setting things up for the next TPB. Still, it features enough stand alone parts that it can be enjoyed for itself. The third volume contains the big climax to the first year long story arc, but Kirkman is too much a part of modern comics writing (which tend to eschew text captions or recaps) so I suspect it really won't read very well on its own.

The story in issue #5 perhaps best epitomizes all the things Kirkman's trying for -- the quirky humour, the adventure, the portrayal of what it would mean to be a guy just becoming a super hero, all wrapped up in a single issue, coherent story (a thin story, but a story). It's a really good one-off issue. But too few of the rest of the issues rise to its level.

Heck, when you get to the end of the 13 part arc...you don't really feel like you reached the end of an epic saga.

Ultimately, there's a lot of fun, a lot to like about Invincible...but I'm just not loving it. (And, ironically, given my qualms about the comics' violence...apparently an animated TV series for kids based on Invincible is in the works!)

Cover price: __ CDN/ $34.95 USA

Jack Staff: Everything Used to be Black & White 2004 (SC TPB) 352 pages

Written and illustrated by Paul Grist.
black & white

Reprinting: Jack Staff #1-12 (1st series from Dancing Elephant Press -- 2000-2003)

Rating: * * 1/2 (out of 5)

Number of readings: 1

Reviewed: June, 2010

Published by Image Comics

I'm a creature of impulses. I picked up (in the cheap boxes) the mini-series Albion, a modern series resurrecting some old British comic book characters. I hadn't liked Albion...but it had piqued my curiosity about a British comics era of which I knew nothing. This led to my picking up some hard cover collections of old British comic book characters. And then I stumbled upon references to Jack Staff, a series of which I'd also previously never heard, but which prior to Albion had also nostalgically mined the pages of old British comics for inspiration. And I immediately went about getting my hands on this TPB collection of the original 12 issue series.

Actually, Jack Staff isn't just mining old British comics.

Apparently writer/artist Paul Grist had first pitched the idea to Marvel Comics using their existing UK hero, Union Jack. When Marvel passed on the plot, Grist decided to use it anyway, renaming his hero Jack Staff (I believe a synonym for Union Jack), slightly redesigning his costume (and giving him a quarter staff evocative of the original version of yet another Marvel UK hero, Captain Britain). And Jack Staff joins the long list of modern day super heroes that exists as a kind of nostalgic homage, with occasional aspects of parody.

And, I'll admit, I'm beginning to max out on such properties that first really took root in the 1980s. The whole gimmick is to do comics that not only aren't original...but where they're supposed to conjure up feelings of warm nostalgia because they put you in mind of something else. Here even accidentally using pre-existing names like "The Freedom Fighters" and "Star-Spangled Kid".

In the case of the opening four-part arc (Previously collected as Yesterday's Heroes), it really was intended to be other characters. The story begins in the fictional English city of Castletown, where a series of vampire-like murders are occurring. Meanwhile, Jack Staff ("Britain's Greatest Hero" as we are constantly, cheekily, reminded) hasn't been seen in decades. But he hasn't gone anywhere -- or even aged apparently -- merely hung up his fighting togs. But the slayings bring him out of retirement, cuing periodic (brief) flashbacks to his WW II days with a bunch of other heroes, including the American icon, Sgt. Stripes, and how they find a vampire's victim among bodies pulled from a blitz bombing, leading to a showdown in underground caverns where the vampire is seeming killed by a stalactite. And, um, yeah, if that seems familiar, it's because that was the story in The Invaders #7-9 (except he was skewered by a stalagmite)! Now in modern Castletown, the vampire seems to have returned, even coinciding with Sgt. Stripes' visit to the UK, the good Sgt still alive thanks to -- wait for it! -- being frozen in ice for decades. Yes, I know it's a homage, and this really was intended to be a story for Union Jack and Captain America...but couldn't Grist have at least come up with some cosmetic changes, just to made it seem, you know...original?

Grist presents his own instant universe of heroes and villains, including a plucky "girl reporter" (there's a heavy helping of tongue-in-cheek throughout), a robot named Tom Tom, The Robot Man (modelled after an earlier British comic book character, Robot Archie) and a branch of the UK government that investigates the paranormal, called Q (whether they are based on a specific previous comic, or simply meant to evoke all the sundry similar concepts, I'm not sure -- possibly Grist was thinking of the TV series, Sapphire & Steel).

Initially the story seems oddly paced, cutting between different characters (and narrators) so that you often aren't even sure who the "main" character is supposed to be, and with distracting logos and titles filling up half the page. The pace is brisk, as Grist rockets from one scene to another, but it's kind of distracting.

But it's part of the whole homage thing. British comics were often anthologies of newspaper-like comic strips told in weekly two or three page instalments. Grist's use of two or three page sections, telling parts of the same story, yet focusing on a different character, is meant to evoke the old British anthology comics.

Once that opening four part story is over with, Grist throws himself even more heavily into his homage to British comics. Though it makes you wonder about the various copyrights. Grist brings back master criminal The Spider, by name, now elderly and semi-retired. Yet with others, Grist uses thinly disguised homages to old characters...so there's Victorian escapologist, Charlie Raven, who is meant to be Janus Stark, and a guy with a metal hand who can turn invisible, called The Claw, when the 1960s character was The Steel Claw. Though is the Spider portrayed here, an elderly gentlemen thief, really evocative of the bombastic 1960s super villain? Or Janus Stark had Elongated Man-like malleability, whereas Grist's Charlie Raven just seems like a talented, but otherwise normal, escape artist.

Given how long ago and obscure the British characters are, maybe Grist was attempting to pay tribute to characters...he only half remembered.

And it's not just comic book characters Grist pays homage to -- a long haired, bearded mystic in one scene may be intended as a nod to comics writer, Alan Moore.

This is obviously a labour of love on Grist's part for the very idea of British super heroes. Grist's introduction even assures American readers not to be scared off by the Britishness of the series. But that assurance is unnecessary. There are only a few throw away quips that betray its Englishness, references to sitcom star Victor Meldrew, or talk show hosts Richard and Judy. The most blatantly non-American aspect is perhaps the way Americans can be depicted in a somewhat unflattering light. And though I don't object to that (it's perhaps healthy for American readers to realize that outside of their borders, America isn't always viewed as an unarguable force for justice and righteousness), it can smack of setting up a straw villain.

But despite Grist's obvious enthusiasm for his material...it doesn't fully work for me.

Grist seems more concerned with form than content, style rather than substance. And this despite there being some clever aspects to the telling -- like the way Grist will use jumbled chronology (showing a scene, then cutting back to a scene leading up to it). But it can make it all just a little confusing, too. And sure, that's the point, to separate the lazy readers from those willing to put some effort into it. But the problem is, I just wasn't interested in the characters or what happened to them enough to invest that extra effort -- nor was the effort often rewarded.

So much of this is tongue-in-cheek homage (without being out-and-out funny -- camp more than comedy), too much of it is about the surface, where scenes and events are thrown in, just for the sake of throwing them in. There's a scene where we, the reader, are suddenly being addressed by a magician character, presumably meant to evoke those old Lee-Ditko 1950s fantasy stories which would similarly break the "fourth wall". Then he reappears a few issues later -- but for a similarly pointless effect. Well, pointless in terms of telling a story, evoking emotion, or developing character.

The title of this TPB collection is a joke on the idea of these issues being black & white (the later Jack Staff comics were colour), but would also seem to imply some deeper examination of ethics and moral complexity...but it doesn't.

Because the comic acts as one extended homage, Grist doesn't really seem to worry over much about the underlining glue that holds a narrative together. Heck, by the end of these 12 issues, we still don't really know much about Jack Staff himself -- he is a cipher, nothing more. Few of the characters really grow or evolve much over 300 plus pages. And as such, it's hard to care about them.

Like with so many others in the "homage" genre (which has seen the likes of Alan Moore, Kurt Busiek, Jeph Loeb, Robert Kirkman and others take it on), it all feels a bit lazy. Grist is just having fun, so he focuses on the scenes he wants to write and draw, but forgets drama has to be built on the lesser moments to, the scenes that aren't necessarily splashy, or clever, but provide foundation for the rest. It's like a pianist who decides he only wants to play the black keys, and so just skips over the notes requiring the white keys -- resulting in an awkward, unsatisfying melody.

Grist's art style is also a bit problematic, at least for a super hero comic. He has a Spartan, cartoony style (in contrast to the more stereotypical British comics art style which tends to be more detailed and realistic). And though I've grown to appreciate such a style, Grist's particular version of it leaves me mixed. It can sort of be effective in spots -- he certainly has his own technique. But it further adds to a sense of superficiality. His panels are often devoid of much background or context, making it hard to orient yourself in a scene. His figures are stiff and cartoony, and the very simplicity of his art -- particularly here in black & white -- is that it's occasionally hard to recognize and/or distinguish minor characters from scene to scene. And given the frequent changes -- jumping from past to present, and different character chapters -- the series would've benefitted if Grist could employ differing styles. He does some clever things with composition and angles, but many of the stylistic/visual gimmicks are just that -- gimmicks. Form rather than content, the medium more than the message.

I fully appreciate some people love that stuff. I can, too. But storytelling tricks should serve the plot and characters...not the other way around.

And despite the inherent simplicity of the art, Grist is apparently a notoriously slow producer (presumably he has a day job). This 12 issue series was published over four years!

Even though this represents the complete 12 issue series, it immediately jumped to Image comics and continues to this day (still on a ridiculously slow schedule). As such, though the main adventure plots/story arcs do resolve by the end (there are four or five over these 12 issues), there are plenty of cryptic scenes, and unresolved sub-plots. Making it a tad unsatisfying. Heck, we still don't know why Jack Staff quit years before!

In the end, Jack Staff puts me in mind of that painting by Rene Magritte in which a picture of a pipe hovers above a caption that translates as "This is not a pipe." After a moment of puzzlement, the viewer is supposed to understand: it's not a pipe...it's a painting of a pipe. In a sense, Jack Staff strikes me as not being a super hero comic...so much as it's a comic about a super hero comic.

Cover price: __ CDN/ $19.95 USA

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