Should One Man Have All That Power?

Since I've started working for Black Nerd Problems, the feedback for my articles and even The Blog has definitely evolved. I get my share of trolls just like everyone else, but for the most part, I like you people. Even when you don't agree, you get it. But there's always a bit of an oddball that just has to stand out. Recently, I received an email about an article I did a few moons ago on what the moral to a good Black Panther movie should be. One response I got (which my editor refuses to run and rightfully so because as well written and thought out as it is, the goddamned thing has a higher word count than War and Peace) was a letter to Marvel, griping about the direction in which they've taken the Black Panther in the past ten years or so. And yeah, it's totally valid to say he's been put through the ringer. He's lost his kingdom to his sister (by the way, I've never liked the way fans talk about that with this overtone that sounds a lot like misogynistic "you lost your throne to a girl" bullshit), he got divorced from Storm who moved onto a relationship with the dearly departed Wolverine. He became the keeper of the spirits of all Black Panthers before him and lost that. He's lost Wakanda thrice to Doom, Namor and Thanos. I get it. He's had it hard.

This section of fandom (because the guy who wrote the letter isn't the only one by a long shot) has a problem with this because the Panther, though an awesome, formidable hero, hasn't really been given a chance as a truly marquee character. They seem to think, as far as I can tell, that returning his throne to him and making him this indomitable Batman of sorts again will put him in the spotlight he deserves and...I don't know...maybe they think he'll finally be worthy of joining the Marvel Cinematic Universe in his own film (which, according to some, is on the way sooner than we think).

The author of said letter also seems to believe that the Black Panther falling from grace is some kind of hazing unique to him that other characters (I'm assuming via context that he means white characters) are somehow immune to. Even though it's understandable as far as kneejerk reactions go (after all, we live in a country where it's practically a federal case if Jennifer Lawrence's boobs leak to the web but not Jill Scott's), it's still wrong.

Tony Stark, as karmic penance for being a war profiteer, has a piece of shrapnel from one of his own bombs stuck in his chest. He's also been a booze hound who has lost his company at least twice in recent memory, lost his memory, been an enemy of the state and, recently, engineered superhero death machines that he doesn't remember making.

Captain America, the Marvel Universe's greatest champion, has been on the run from his own country, shot in the chest, and even renounced his name when he didn't like the direction the country was going in.

And these are two of Marvel's biggest franchises we're talking about here. If Marvel were to absolve the Black Panther from being put through a gauntlet in his heroic and personal life (and this is what Reginald Hudlin lost sight of during his run), you're opening your character up to becoming a Goddamned Batman where the problem becomes that you've allowed your character to become too invincible in the eyes of the collective consciousness. And when was the last time that was exciting? 300? I mean, sure it was cool watching the Spartans be tougher than basically every other lifeform on screen, but that was only cool because we all knew they were going to die by the end of the movie.

"Excuse me, but you're in the shot. They can't
get my abs clearly."

(Having said that, it would be awesome to see a scene in the Black Panther movie where T'Challa is one deep against a horde of mercenaries charging towards Wakanda, giving them work like Gerard Butler did in that one scene of 300. But I digress.)

I mean, just think about Cyclops. After the years of fanwhining about how boring and vanilla Scott Summers was. Now, think about him finally losing his shit and, lately becoming the new Magneto. Who would have guessed that the Captain America of mutants would have turned into that wayward older brother who changes his clothes and rages against the machine to piss off his dead father figure? That's a much more interesting character!

It's natural to want the good guys to win. That's why comics are absorbed into pop culture so easily. No matter how cynical or apathetic our society becomes, we want to see someone triumph during those times when we don't think we can. Jerry Siegel's father was shot and killed in a department store robbery. When he created Superman, he was giving birth to the kind of hero he wished could have saved his dad, a hero who would never let us down in those times when our friends, our jobs or our justice system does.

But the connection between the hero and his/her reader can't always be so simple. Otherwise, the audience starts to resent the hero in the same way you hate hearing "I know how you feel" from your friend who gets all the pretty girls in high school. The greater the test put before your hero, the louder we cheer when they see their way past it.

Moral of the Story: It's not about the fall. It's about the climb back.

Stuff I Read This Week: March 5, 2014

Jupiter's Legacy #4: Mark Millar sure takes his time getting a book out which is probably what loses some of his readers. Be that as it may, many of his books tend to be worth the wait in the long run....most of the time, anyway (sorry, Kick Ass 3). In the case of Jupiter's Legacy, I think I can find a way to forgive him.

This issue picks up nine years after Walter Sampson orchestrated an epic coup against his revered superhero brother, the Utopian. The fast forward gives an abridged tour of a more totalitarian sort of world in the wake of the "supers," also introducing yet another generation of hero to Millar's saga. This installment makes the lofty generational sprawl he's shooting for obvious, mirroring that of ancient Roman mythology. There will be readers familiar with his previous work who will be somewhat unimpressed by the deconstruction of superhero culture since Millar seems to have practically made his own genre out of it at this point. However, Jupiter's Legacy seems to hold up pretty well if you don't hold his other books against him.

Though Millar's plot might be divisive among some readers, Frank Quitely's artwork is beyond undeniable. Anyone who's read All Star Superman will tell you that Quitely is king when it comes to broad landscapes, broad shoulders and viceral battles among godlike beings. His rendering of a brave new world under the rule of the supers is absolutely beautiful and takes up a good deal of the issue which works well in it's favor.

Bottom Line: If you're not burned out on Millar's brand of superhero story telling, this is definitely a gorgeous book worthy of consideration. 7.75 out of 10.


Uncanny X-Men #18: Brian Bendis' run of All New and Uncanny have received a lot of praise from me over the past year and rightfully so. With the years of backstory to sift through and team rosters that rotate more than Taylor Swift's dating schedule, it's nice to have a set of X-books that are accessible to anyone who wants to dive right in and get a decent read without consulting Wikipedia every ten minutes. They're funny, relatable and easy on the eyes. Having said that....

...this issue isn't Bendis' best work. It has the best of intentions, trying to be equal parts chronicling the some moments in the arrival of the Original X-Men to the New Xavier School, catching awkwardness between Young Cyclops and Old Cyclops, and catching Old Scott's reaction to the disappearance of the Kitty Pryde and the original five. The flashbacks and flashforwards just aren't as tight here as they should be. The issue meanders with little direction, dipping out of one plot point and into the next almost randomly. Still, there are some instances in the story that makes this very random rollercoaster worth the ride. Watching Kitty and Cyke hash out their guilt over the death of Charles Xavier was an intriguing piece of reading. And Emma Frost's Jean Grey issues are always nothing short of hilarious. However, this issue in particular doesn't leave a whole lot of air in the room for the young recruits which is weird considering they're a man short as of the issue before.

The art in this book has been eclectic to say the least and Marco Rudy seems to keep that tradition going very well. Using Cyclops' recently uncontrollable optic blasts as borders between panels is a stroke of genius. And every unorthodox panel seems to jump right off of the page thanks to Rudy interchanging inks and watercolors.

Bottom Line: A wonderful, good looking concept....that feels really rushed in execution. 7 out of 10

In Defense of Darkman or....Superhero Movies Hollywood Could Learn Something From

With this year in superhero films wrapped up, Marvel ready to shove out their new batch and DC getting everyone's mouths watering with Arrow being a breakout success (despite mixed reviews from fanboys) their Flash television pilot, and of course the several rumors and announcements behind the casting of Man of Steel 2: The Steel Strikes Back, I thought I'd pull a few movies with cult success (despite questionable box office numbers) out of the vault and take a brief look at some of the lessons modern comic book cinema could take from them

Darkman: It sort of saddens me that we're quickly approaching (if we're not already in the midst of) a generation that will never know the glory that is Darkman. When you watch Sam Raimi's first jump into the superhero genre, it's actually a big insight into why he got tapped for the Spider-Man series in the first place. Even though, at first glance, it comes across as a teenager's ultraviolent fantasy, it's actually very indicative of what many comics were at the fringes of early comic culture: melodramatic pulp adventure. A psychotic, disfigured scientist returns from "death" to take revenge on the mobsters and crooked officials responsible? If Darkman had originated as a comic book hero, the story itself would have been more of a horror story than anything and Raimi has a far better understanding of the comic book genre than anyone gives him credit for. The movie made absolutely NO apologies for the fact that Peyton Westlake was more or less just a really demented guy who a). wanted his face back and b). wanted to kill a lot of people (basically what would happen if someone set Kanye West on fire).

Moral of the Story: The lesson that Current Hollywood can (and should but won't) take from this movie is that every superhero film doesn't have to be one of virtue because not every superhero is a virtuous one nor should they be. This is where the Punisher and Ghost Rider movies went wrong (well, they went wrong a LOT of places...Nic Cage being a notable one....but virtue was prime among their sins).


The Phantom: Now, here's a movie that holds a very special place in my heart while many others have forgotten about for understandable reasons. The 1989 Batman was something of a game changer for superhero movies. When Jack Nicholson's Joker uttered the line "Where does he get those wonderful toys?"....his reaction was one that turned out to mirror the audience's. I mean, for the time in which it was conceived, watching a hero swing onto rooftops, lob smoke bombs and evade the law in a tricked out car was pretty goddamned exciting. Then, you find yourself watching a period piece about hero you mainly only know from the comics section of your newspaper. So, needless to say, Lee Falk's jungle hero had the odds against him right out of the gate. He was an Indiana Jones-type hero at a time when moviegoers had decided they were pretty much over Indiana Jones.



Having said that, there's a lot to learn from The Phantom. First of all, there's Billy Zane's performance. With a period piece like this, it's importance not to take yourself too seriously. Zane went a different way than what would be expected from a story about a mythical hero who lives in a secret jungle surrounded by tree people who revere him as a living ghost protector. Let's face it...if you go dark and play the Phantom like a guy He dashed to and fro, punching and shooting with a wink, a smile and a "pardon me, ma'am" at every turn. We call this kind of shit "cheesy" and "hamfisted" nowadays, but it's also the sort of thing that makes us smile and induces a feeling of escape which is what we commonly go to the movies for in the first place.

One of the best "quiet as kept" scenes is when Phantom is chasing thugs who've kidnapped Kristy Swanson (By the way, Diana Palmer's awesomeness dwarfs pretty much EVERY incarnation of Lois Lane except maybe Amy Adams in Man of Steel), bumps into a woman by mistake, stops to pick up her purse like a gentleman and goes on to leap from car to car in traffic, steal a cop's horse, riding off in hot pursuit....LIKE A FUCKING BOSS.

Moral of the Story: The thing that should really translate well here for Current Hollywood is that every hero doesn't have to be edgy and dark. Granted, Ghost Rider really should be which is why that failed, but there's no reason modern day swashbucklers can't be fun.

The Rocketeer: For a movie that doesn't really get the credit it's due, maintaining a 63% rating on Rotten Tomatoes isn't exactly anything to sneeze at. Unfortunately, it suffered from the same societal epidemics as The Phantom where a). if a movie didn't open and sellout in every theater worldwide like Dark Knight or The Avengers recently, it's automatically dismissed as a failure (keep in mind that several failures have done very well in the box office in the same way as when you go home with the guy at the bar who seems to mean well only to wake up once you're sober and say "What the fuck was I thinking?"....I'm looking at you, Transformers 2 & 3) and b). was portraying a sort of bare bones "everyman" hero in the era of Batman.

In many ways, this was a movie that Hollywood, in fact, may just have learned something from for better or worse. I mean, honestly, Rocketeer was the epitome of a period-piece hero epic. A douchebag test pilot finds Howard Hughes experimental jet pack, battles "G-men", the mob, and Nazis all for the love of Jennifer Connelly's boobs? That pretty much sums up American propaganda heroes of the 1930's. For all intents and purposes, this was something of a blueprint that would later make the way for asshole superheroes like Robert Downey Jr.'s Iron Man. One of the big highlights from this movie that deserves consideration (aside from a delightfully fun Timothy Dalton villain) is the dialed back usage of special effects. Don't get me wrong; it's not like they tied Bill Campbell to a big rope the whole time and told him to holler in front of a house fan the whole time, but Peter Travers had it right when he referred to it's movie magic as "the kind that charms us, rather than bullying us, into suspending disbelief."

Moral of the Story: On one hand, when you have movies about gods with magic hammers, giant green beasts, asshole space cops with magic wishing rings and....well, Superman...it's hard for visuals NOT to be a contributing factor to their success. On the other hand, special effects don't have to subtract from the story's personality. Joss Whedon understands this pretty well. So does Rocketeer director Joe Johnston which is probably why Marvel ended up tapping him to direct Captain America, which, in addition to being a pretty damn good origin story, ended up being a terrific send up of old Republic serials.

The Art of Snapping or Maybe Cyclops WAS Right.....

I'm apologizing in advance because I have to talk about Ghostbusters II for a second. In Ghostbusters II, Bill Murray and company had to fight a demonic overlord trapped in a painting who was dumping slime into the sewers that turned all of New York into assholes who are awful to each other for no reason (though I'm still not sure how he did that from inside of a painting). Basically, he meant to take over the world by turning NYC in the center of all evil. In other words, Dallas. Watching this movie as a kid has clearly affected my state of mind now because it is my genuine belief that comment sections online are basically the focal point of all digital evil on the World Wide Web. Having said all that, sometimes, when I'm on the internet reading articles and I'm feeling very adventurous, I'll put on my hazmat suit and dive into random comment sections. Why, you ask? Because fuck it, that's why?

Anyway, one of the biggest criticisms I've read this year in comment sections and message boards is about the direction in which Marvel has taken Cyclops and it got me thinking about why. I mean, Marvel's whole thing is that their characters tend to live a little closer to the human condition of the everyman while a lot of DC characters tend to be more static archetypes. Even though Uncanny X-Men is, thus far, serving a purpose similar to Dark Avengers from a few years back during the "Dark Reign" event, Cyclops didn't " go bad" necessarily.

You're Scott Summers. You haven't looked anyone in the eye since you hit puberty. You've been raised by a kind, well-meaning man who wishes for peace between humans and mutants while training you to fight giant robot death machines since you were 15 years old. You're basically the quintessential All-American captain of the football team for mutantkind. As time goes on and you grow into an adult, people from the future you've been taught to fight for come to the present day and basically tell you that you eventually fail. You watch your wife (who is basically your high school sweetheart) silently fawn over your hairy, homicial teammate. That same wife died, came back to life as a world-swallowing space god, died and came back to life and died AGAIN. Eventually, the race of people you're sworn to protect are magically dwindled down to barely enough to reach full capacity at Chick-Fil-A. Now, you're an endangered species living an island that's pretty much a reservation. At some point, that same world swallowing space god possesses you and you convince yourself that you're righting your dead wife's wrong by healing the world. Then, it drives you power mad and you kill Charles Xavier, your only father figure, in cold blood and you're thrown in jail. Cyclops didn't "turn evil." He snapped. Plain and simple.

It's not even a new phenomenon in Marvel. Take the Ultimate Universe, for example. Early on in Ultimate Spider-Man, Nick Fury confessed to having a file on Peter Parker because with everything that had happened to him and his family over the years (father killed in a Hulk attack, father's best friend's son becomes Venom, Uncle Ben, Norman Osborn, etc.), he was the most likely to snap and become the next big supervillain. Of course, Ultimate Peter Parker didn't snap. In fact, he went on to die in the service of not snapping and being exactly the kind of guy Uncle Ben wanted him to be (although I can't help but wonder if that's because Black Fury also said "When you turn 18, you're mine"....turns out that guy's a lying piece of shit in EVERY dimension). Meanwhile, Ultimate Reed Richards had endured equally fucked up circumstances (piece of shit father, being responsible for unintentionally wiping out another dimension, turning his best friends into a monster, his girlfriend being an indecisive ass, Doom, etc.) and, while nobody was looking, turned into the next big supervillain, almost wiping out humanity at least twice. You don't necessarily like or forgive the character for it, but you get it.

The same thing applies for others like the Norman and Harry Osborn, whose Green Goblin incarnations are completely about regular people just plain losing it in the face of bad shit happening. Brian Michael Bendis' run on Daredevil, which has turned out to be one of the most definitive eras in DD history other than Frank Miller's, is entirely the story of what happens when Matt Murdock has pretty much the worst time of his life (unable to cope with his girlfriend's death, secret identity outed to the press, Bullseye's return, declaring himself Kingpin of Hell's Kitchen, disbarred and thrown in prison, etc.) and being utterly unable to cope with the black hole his life had become.

You see it in real life all the time. Kanye West's evolution is pretty much the best real-life example I can think of when I think about what a hero-to-villain transformation looks like, but that's a whole other post.

Have you ever known someone before a relationship and seen them AFTER a breakup? After the death of a loved one? Post-traumatic stress is more present in America than its probably ever been. Often times, soldiers come home from war changed by their experiences and understandably so. Their job is literally to get shot at so you don't have to. Now, compare that to "superheroism." People who get shot at and attacked by all kinds of unthinkable supervillain shit every single day are bound to be deeply affected and changed in the wake of what they've seen.

No, seriously....WHY hasn't Marvel made
these shirts? You're leaving money on the
table, Marvel.

Having a major character go through a major change like that isn't necessarily always a perversion of who he or she was meant to be. Sometimes, it's the next logical step. It's evolution. Sometimes, people just snap. Comic book characters shouldn't have to be immune.

Stuff I Read This Week Episode 12 or You Don't Have Superpowers Because You Wouldn't Do Anything Constructive With Them....

A Note From the Writer: I am more than grateful that my little dog and pony review garnered the attention of such a writer as David Mack. However, I am thankful, first and foremost, to you all for continuing to read it. It was really just a side project (at first) that decided, through force of will, to stick around. To thank you all, I wanted to do deviate from the usual schedule for Free Comic Book Day. Doug E. Fresh would call this "crowd participation."

Basically, send me comments, requests, questions on all things comic nerd and I'll talk about them. You can ask them here in the comment area, inbox them, email me or....you know....whatever. I'll try to keep this as fun as possible. Thanks in advance. :-)

Email: letsgetfree13@gmail.comTwitter: @letsgetfree13



And Now.....To The Reviews!!!

Uncanny X-Men #5: I'm just going to start off with the simple truth of what I've gotten from the past two issues. This book is getting weird. Since the events of "Avengers vs. X-Men", Magik has become the wild card of Cyclops' outlaw revolution squad. We haven't seen the full extent of what's she capable of since the Phoenix screwed with her abilities, but it's been suggested for a while that she's the Uncanny team's Thor. Here is where we see her dealing with the ramifications of her unpredictable abilities in a fashion not too unlike how the Scarlet Witch went wrong (or, depending on your point of view, how she was never right to begin with). Brian Bendis, while not making too much of a detour from the ongoing plot, is making a bit of a rest stop to flesh Illyana Rasputin out since she hasn't gotten much focus aside from the occasional "I might be batshit crazy" one liner. We are reintroduced to an old unexpected villain which seems like a "make-up appearance" after a semi lackluster third act battle during Bendis' run on New Avengers. Here, he is given the "holy shit" factor that a baddie of his caliber deserves. One of the high points for this book was the S.H.I.E.L.D. meeting in which Maria Hill groans in the wake of the the X-Men "dropping the mic on the Avengers like it's 8 Mile." I have to appreciate Bendis' ability to make the Avengers either look like jackbooted thugs or spoiled punks who tuck their collective tails between their legs and "don't feel like talking about it" when they get owned. It's good to be able to handle characters realistically while still letting the reader know who's boss in their book.

Frazier Irving's art come across as a sudden, slightly out of place change for this book. The switch itself is already a bit distracting, but his style feels a little messy and too all over the place for my tastes. I also take issue with nobody being able to decide on a baseline set of characteristics for Cyclops' face with the mask off.

Bottom Line: This book suffers no illusions in the fact that it's semi filler. But it's good filler. 7.5 out of 10

Jupiter's Legacy #1: I was going out of my way to not pick up a mainstream superhero title when I bought this and winced when I figured out it was one. But I shouldn't have. Mark Millar has an interesting penchant for being able to introduce superhero archetypes into a world closer to the one we live in. It's a theme he seems to have gotten progressively great at as times goes on and this title, thus far, is the proof. 

Whereas Spider Man will break off a date to go fight crime with little remorse, many of the superpowered people in this world are more likely to wait until their iTunes download of Scandal finishes before running off to beat up on the alien would-be conqueror. And let's face it. That's about right. How many times have you asked someone to do something first thing in the morning and received "Not until I've had my coffee" as a reply? That's just taking out the trash or putting WD-40 on the door hinge. I shudder to think how fucked we'd be if a planet sized meteor were hurtling towards Earth.

This book centers around a generation of Golden Age heroes with a stiff moral code that seems to be getting left in the dust. The setup seems to be leaning towards questioning whether or not the current generation will be up to the responsibility of fighting for good. So far, Millar's answer seems to be a "No" so big, The Rock couldn't lift it. To his credit, doesn't just judge the Twitter era from the cheap seats like an old codger shaking his fist from his porch. He goes behind enemy lines and asks, "Can you blame them? You guys had Hitler to deal with. They have Justin Bieber." Frank Quitely's artwork is, as usual, a godsend to compliment Millar's story appropriately, stirring realism and a powerful sense of the unbelievable into an alphabet soup that's hard to ignore. Though it seems to make you wish for a slightly stronger action beats, it seems to do everything right as far as inaugural issues go.

Bottom Line: Mark Millar is definitely at the top of his game while making you wish you had superpowers and hope your roommate never does all at the same time. 9 out of 10.


East of West #2: Jonathan Hickman is certainly swinging for the fences with this one. He brings a fresh, unapologetic voice to the pantheon of dystopian future visions with his unconventional saga of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse. War, Famine and Conquest are still on a bloody tear through this brave new world, jumpstarting the end of civilization as we know it. Meanwhile, Death, their fourth, goes on a similarly bloodlustful revenge run. This is the kind of sci-fi/fantasy work Hickman was born to do and the kind of quirky, badass characters he was born to write. The body count's still pretty high, but the story seems to be getting slightly more coherent as pieces of the endgame peek out from under the cracks of maiming, mauling and lush environments that keep your eyes bulging out from their sockets thanks to Nick Dragotta's masterful artwork and shrewd coloring. The first issue was ambitious and slightly experimental, but the sophomore effort is coming across more of a uniformed venture.

Bottom Line: All there was to appreciate last time has been magnified more as the plot begins to come together. 8.5 out of 10.