Brian C. Poole (Writer Guy)

Is ramping up new collections of old material the key to the survival of the comic book industry?

https://bpooleauthor.medium.com/archives-to-the-rescue-35f57354bb54

Over on Medium, I ruminate about my path to discovering the work of Joni Mitchell.

Over on Medium I consider the legacy of one of the most crucial comic runs of the early ‘80s, Wolfman and Perez’s New Teen Titans.

https://bpooleauthor.medium.com/legacy-of-the-new-teen-titans-54cc4d4a21aa

There’s a lot wrong with comics. But a few key books have issues that, if addressed, could make a big difference.

Kate Bush is enjoying a much deserved renaissance thanks to the new season of Stranger Things. Let’s take a look back at her 1985 classic “Hounds of Love.”

Over on Medium, I take a look back at the late ‘90s/early ‘00s DC JSA franchise, now that the Justice Society has finally made its comeback to DC’s line.

It’s well past time for Marvel to fix one of its worst decisions of the past few years and restore the status quo of Magneto as the father of twins Quicksilver and Scarlet Witch.

In the early ‘80s, Marvel firmly established Magento’s paternity of his former protégés, as had been hinted at for years. The characters had a long history already, from the days when Magneto had forced the twins into his original Brotherhood of Evil Mutants. After Quicksilver and Scarlet Witch became genuine heroes, having a father regarded as one of the Marvel Universe’s biggest villains provided a potent family dynamic that would fuel years of dramatic plots. It also served as a crucial link between the Avengers and X-Men franchises, whose adventures over time had begun to seem like they took place in completely different worlds.

However, a few years ago, the otherwise forgettable event series AXIS revealed that Magneto was, in fact, not the twins’ father. A subsequent Uncanny Avengers arc established that the twins’ powers were the result of experiments by the dependably opaque High Evolutionary. In her short-lived solo series, the Witch seemingly connected with the spirit of her deceased birth mother.

The thing is, no one really liked this twist. It did away with a powerful, complicated family connection that united different corners of Marvel’s shared universe and drove substantial drama over the years. The twist wasn’t especially exciting and the explanation that replaced Magneto’s paternity was never utilized effectively. And it also served as a blow against character diversity, retroactively negating Quicksilver and Scarlet Witch’s longstanding status as mutant characters.

The move struck many fans as less a creative decision then a business dictate. In the days before the Disney/Fox merger, the movie rights to certain characters became a bone of contention for the two studios. Quicksilver and Scarlet Witch became a particular lightning rod. They were well-established Avengers, but their father was a central character in the X-Men movies. Competing versions of Quicksilver appeared in movies released only a few months apart.

Cutting Quicksilver and Scarlet Witch’s longstanding ties to both Magneto and the mutant corner of the Marvel Universe seemed like another salvo in what fans perceived as Marvel’s campaign to bury the X-franchise as part of its publishing line. The move seemed to directly contradict Marvel’s official stance that the needs of its successful, high profile film series would not drive changes to its comic books.

Those issues have gone away in the time since Disney acquired Fox’s movie and television assets and brought all rights to the X-Men back in-house. Indeed, the X-line has received a high profile re-launch under the guidance of superstar writer Jonathan Hickman that’s been highly successful.

So why not re-establish the ties between Magneto and the twins? Magneto is a central part of the new X-landscape. Exploring the familial element with his estranged children could only add to the appeal of the new status quo. Especially given that the Scarlet Witch is often deemed a pariah, if not an outright villain, by other mutant characters, following the climax of the House of M series. Injecting her into the new “separatist mutant state” scenario could be fascinating. And the reality that one of the symbols of the new mutant status quo has non-mutant grandchildren could be another fertile plot avenue.

At this point, it just seems like smart drama. Fans disliked the retcon anyway, and given that the High Evolutionary has never been known as a trustworthy character, revealing that he lied as part of some long-term mind-game involving Magneto and the twins would be a fairly easy solution.

Avengers: No Road Home is an entertaining sequel to the successful weekly Avengers: No Surrender.

When every sun across the universe suddenly goes dark, the reformed Voyager gathers Hercules, Hulk, Vision, Hawkeye, Rocket Raccoon, Scarlet Witch and Spectrum to investigate. Spinning out of a family tragedy for Hercules, the Avengers face Nyx, the ancient goddess of night, driven mad by centuries of imprisonment. With her twisted children at her side, she’s bent on revenge and remaking the universe in her image. The Avengers race Nyx and her family to recover three talismans of power, traversing time and space, where the barbarian warrior Conan joins the struggle. In the heart of the creative spark of the universe, a rejuvenated Vision faces off with Nyx to determine the fate of the galaxy.

Much of the creative team behind No Surrender reunites for No Road Home, managing to pull off another weekly comic with a certain amount of style. Writers Al Ewing, Jim Zub and Mark Waid have wisely streamlined the sequel, not only reducing the issue count to 10 (from 16), but focusing on a smaller core group of characters. The writers waste little time; by the end of the first installment, the primary cast has been assembled and their respective status quos established, the major threat and prime villain have been introduced, and they’ve already uncorked a couple of shocking moments.

Focusing on a smaller cast allows the authors to dig into their characters a bit more, making good use of their various personal issues and challenges. They continue the recent characterization of Hercules in a smart and agreeable way and exploit the dramatic impact of other characters’ crises (Spectrum fearing for her humanity, Vision facing his possible mortality, Voyager’s desire to become a true hero). Hulk serves as an effective wild card; not only does he push events in unexpected ways, the simmering tension between him and Hawkeye creates an element of dangerous instability among the heroes. Conan makes for a wild addition to the heroes, teaming especially well with the Scarlet Witch in a compelling spotlight issue. While her children come across as standard-issue threats, Nyx herself is a fascinating villain, her motivation very relatable, leaving readers with the sense that maybe she’s not entirely in the wrong. By the story’s end, the characters have been shaken up and positioned for their next steps.

The climax could come across as a bit of a deus ex machina, as Vision and Nyx face off in the “House of Ideas” and Vision essentially out-imagines the villain. Aside from the meta-references to Marvel’s own self-mythology, the sequence works better than one might expect, with a nod to the climax of the “Kree/Skrull War” saga and what’s essentially a love letter to decades of Marvel stories and characters. If you can check your cynicism at the door, it’s a fun and entertaining wrap to the series.

Paco Medina and Sean Isaakse anchor the art team, with Carlo Barberi stepping in for one issue and a team of talented ink and color artists providing excellent support. The art has a clean and classic feel to it, but spiked with modern touches that make the visuals contemporary and relevant. It boasts strongly choreographed action storytelling, with opportunities for the artists to render some quiet character moments and then swing to outrageous action sequences. The artists get to produce some memorable moments, such as Hulk sitting astride Nightmare’s demon horse, Conan’s dramatic entrance to the action, various shots of the imposing Nyx from a variety of dramatic angles, and a series of two-page spreads that pay homage to decades of Marvel characters. All three artists have a similar approach and aesthetic, so there’s no significant lurches in the stylistic direction of the series. They all do expressive, dynamic character work and keep the action moving briskly and cogently, without sacrificing flair or whimsy. Given the logistical restraints of producing a weekly book, it’s really a best case scenario.

Hawkman: Awakening brings a fresh spin to a venerable character with a tangled history.

An encounter with a mystic artifact causes archaeologist Carter Hall, a/k/a Hawkman, to come to some crucial realizations. He knew he’d reincarnated many times across history, but now discovers that he’s also reincarnated across space and dimensions and that his original life well pre-dates the time of Ancient Egypt he’d long associated with his origins. That sends Hawkman on a quest through his past lives, moving through Egypt, Monster Island, Thanagar and even the Microverse on the trail of clues he’d left for himself in the past to help prepare him for the arrival of a menace that could threaten the entire universe.

Hawkman can be a difficult character to get a handle on, both for creators and fans. Various attempts to “straighten out” his origins over the years often have only made things more confusing. Writer Robert Venditti succeeds by leaning into that inherent obstacle and making it a strength. By embracing all of the disparate versions of Hawkman spun out over the years and using them to create a historical jigsaw puzzle for the hero to unravel, Venditti honors the past, but does so in a smart way that’s accessible and entertaining, providing narrative momentum that helps illuminate the strengths of the character.

Venditti’s Hawkman is heavily rooted in a pulp, or neo-pulp, aesthetic. Indiana Jones is the obvious touchstone here, as the writer shrewdly blends the superhero aspects of the character with his vocation as archaeologist and scholar, using both halves of his persona as part of an inspired jaunt through time and space. Venditti also borrows from the old Doc Sampson stories, including the globetrotting adventures and that Hawkman has an extensive support network comprised of the descendants of people he’s helped across his various lives. It’s a smart idea that provides an elegant solution to the logistical support the plot calls for on occasion. Venditti effectively demonstrates how Carter’s past lives inform and interact with his present incarnation, making the most of his checkered past but in a manner that’s sensible and opens up the character in a way that’s rarely been seen in recent years.

Venditti’s character work is strong, making Carter as relatable as he’s ever been. For a character known more for his physicality, Venditti deftly demonstrates how Carter’s intellect is as big a piece of his puzzle. He tones down some of the more strident aspects that other writers have focused on, instead making Carter intellectually curious, more thoughtful and far more likeable. He can still be impetuous, willing to jump into dangerous spots with little hesitation, but it’s all harnessed toward the goal of Venditti’s long-term plot. The writer also gives Carter some quality interpersonal reactions, whether it’s connecting with members of his network, interacting with suspicious past selves, or bouncing off guest stars, like colleague Madame Xanadu or best friend Ray Palmer (a/k/a the Atom). It’s the most human readers have seen Hawkman since Geoff Johns wrote him.

The series significantly benefits from having superstar Bryan Hitch on pencils, working with a small team of talented inkers (himself included), plus ace colorists Alex Sinclair and Jeremiah Skipper. Hitch’s style is a great fit for this approach to Hawkman, providing a deft blend of superhero dramatics, with action/adventure, sci fi and fantasy elements tagged in as needed. Hitch gets to construct some high impact settings, giving him the opportunity to let his imagination run wild as he designs fantasy vistas like a subterranean tomb, a palace in ancient Egypt, the soaring cities of Thanagar, the jungles of Monster Island or the bizarre planetscapes of the Microverse. This is a story that calls for the dramatic splash pages that Hitch does so well, with a  two-page spread of Carter “falling” through his past lives, set against an array of older characters flying across the background, being a particular standout. Hitch also does some first rate character and design work. He leans into the Indiana Jones reference, making Carter resemble a young Harrison Ford, giving him a more streamlined and graceful depiction than the hyper-muscled maniac that’s become common in recent years. Hitch’s take on Hawkman’s costume does a nice job of paying homage to the character’s classic look while updating it in sensible ways that make the hero’s visual presentation modern without sacrificing familiar, favorite elements. Hitch clearly has fun with crafting the different looks for Carter’s various incarnations over the centuries (the Kryptonian look is especially notable). The colorists do an excellent job of giving Hitch’s work depth and feeling, wrapping the art in a warm glow that’s inviting and attractive. The art is just what you’d want for this kind of story and the book was lucky to not only land Hitch but actually keep him around for the first year.

All the King’s Men, Robert Penn Warren’s Pulitzer Prize winner, is considered a modern classic for good reason.

First published in 1946, it intertwines the stories of Willie Stark, a fiery populist based on real world Louisiana politician Huey “Kingfish” Long, who rises from obscurity to become a controversial state governor, and narrator Jack Burden, an ex-newspaperman from a “good” family who becomes Stark’s closest aide and confidante. Moving fluidly back and forth between eras (mostly in the 1920s and ‘30s), the story charts the dramatic intersection of the men’s lives, as events lead to a seemingly inevitable tragedy.

The two things most people will note about All the King’s Men, that’s it’s a story about Willie Stark and American politics, are perhaps not quite as central to the book as they would appear. Certainly Willie’s rise to power and controversial political career are the engine that drive much of Warren’s plot; he looms over the proceedings, even during the long stretches when he’s not on the page. As for politics, the complexities of that world are certainly a key part of the overall mix.

But All the King’s Men is just as much Jack’s story as Willie’s, if not more so. As the narrator and gateway to this world (Warren went out of his way never to actually say the book was set in Louisiana, though all indications point to it), readers get a deeper insight into Jack than of any of the other colorful characters populating the cast. The author spends a lot of time tracing Jack’s path from his privileged childhood to his role as the right hand of the most powerful man in their state. Lengthy, beautifully-crafted digressions explore various eras of Jack’s life, particularly his relationships with siblings Adam and Anne Stanton and wary co-existence with his complicated mother. Willie has a significant impact on Jack and Jack’s ruminations are the mechanism for the viewer to learn key information about Willie’s life and rise to power, the two men’s lives eventually becoming inextricably intertwined. Various plots turns provide some high class soap opera moments, but much of the lengthy page count is far from plot-driven, exploring Jack’s contrary psyche and Willie’s subtly encroaching influence. It’s a well-balanced character study that requires both Jack and Willie, and their difficult connection, to succeed.

And while the world of politics provides the backdrop, with several scenes of shrewdly observed details about the ups and downs of the sometimes unsavory political lifestyle, the novel is about much more than that. Its stories and characters transcend their specifics to sketch a portrait of the American South at a key turning point in its history, when the region was still trying shake off the ghosts of its infamous past but hadn’t quite yet made the jump to modernity. Warren’s elegant prose crafted a vivid tableau that gave readers some crucial insights into a particular time and place, subtly dramatizing the tensions between a past whose dark underbelly was unavoidable and a future as yet not clearly defined.

And the writing is gorgeous. The late Warren was a gifted crafter of sentences, never rushing the pacing or failing to stop to shine a light on intriguing corners of a very specific corner of the world. The overall effect of the writing is rich and enveloping, making the author’s frequent digressions into the past or the lives of minor characters welcome developments and not distractions.

Its stature and reputation notwithstanding, it’s not difficult to understand why All the King’s Men has frequently found itself on banned book lists. The book’s rather straightforward approach to matters of sex, including adultery, were surprisingly frank for the time of its initial publication and would be enough to give pause to some parents of younger readers. More troubling for others would be the book’s period-accurate depiction of racial attitudes and free usage of various epithets that are understandably hurtful to many readers. But those elements are necessary to provide an accurate portrait of the time and place dramatized, and to show that the region Warren was exploring still had a long to go in terms of evolving into modernity. While awareness of elements that readers could find problematic is appropriate, they’re also necessary to understanding the characters and their environment.

Ms. Marvel: The Woman Who Fell To Earth

Ms. Marvel: The Woman Who Fell To Earth collects the remaining stories from the first phase of the heroic adventures of future Captain Marvel Carol Danvers, culminating with one of the most controversial stories of the early ‘80s.

Feeling more confident in her role as a heroine, Ms. Marvel tangles with the amphibious villain Tiger Shark, unaware that the shape-changing Mystique is targeting her, setting her against the armored threat Centurion, an encounter she survives thanks to new allies the Avengers. A confrontation with Kree agent Ronan the Accuser reunites Carol with Mar-Vell, the original Captain Marvel. Ms. Marvel adopts a distinctive new costume in time for an encounter with a society of lizard people in the New Mexico desert, then has a re-match with alien powerhouse Deathbird, before she teams with Vance Astro to deal with a mind-controlling villain and the return of an old friend she’d feared dead. Carol is embroiled in an adventure with Spider-Man and Doctor Strange to face the threat of the Silver Dagger. Poker night with the Thing, Nick Fury, Beast and Wonder Man leads to a confrontation with a renegade military unit. Ms. Marvel confronts the lethal Sabretooth, before a personal tragedy puts her on the trail of Mystique and her new Brotherhood of Evil Mutants.

Ms. Marvel’s successful stint as a full-time Avenger ends with a bizarre “pregnancy” that arises out of nowhere and comes to full term within a couple days. Her “son,” Marcus, grows to adulthood in hours and reveals he’s the son of Immortus, the master of Limbo, who had transported Carol to Limbo, romanced her and implanted his essence inside her so he could be reborn on Earth. After the machine necessary for Marcus to stay on Earth is destroyed, Carol impulsively elects to go back to Limbo with him. But only a few months later, the Avengers learn Carol had returned to Earth without telling them, when Spider-Woman rescues the catatonic Carol from a plunge off the Golden Gate Bridge. That puts the heroes on a collision course with Mystique and the Brotherhood, including the power-stealing Rogue who accidentally absorbed Carol’s powers and memories permanently. Partially recovered, Carol lashes out at the Avengers for not having realized that Marcus was using mind control against her and had violated her. A mid-80s coda saw Carol, now reborn as the space heroine Binary, learn of Mar-Vell’s death.

Writer Chris Claremont really hit his stride with the character in the stories collected here. In her own book, Carol/Ms. Marvel grew into a commanding, confident hero, able to stack up against some heavy hitters in the Marvel rogues gallery. Claremont kept some tinges of the self-doubt of earlier stories, but showed Carol working past it. Even as she became more comfortable in her heroic role, Carol’s career and romantic prospects experienced ups and downs, combining for an entertaining series. Of particular note for X-Men fans is the debut of Mystique. Claremont teased a personal hatred Mystique bore for Carol/Ms. Marvel, but that wasn’t resolved in the initial run.

Because just when the book was finally on track, Marvel abruptly pulled the plug after the 23rd issue. The already completed 24th issue sat in the archives for well over a decade, before Marvel ran it in one of its anthology series. Marvel even commissioned Claremont to write a proper concluding chapter (an unofficial 25th issue for the original run), where he tied up some loose ends and provided an explanation for Mystique’s vendetta against Carol.

After her solo series ended, Ms. Marvel became a full-time member of the Avengers cast. And despite meshing well with the team and drawing positive fan response, Marvel editorial decided that, as the company moved into the ‘80s, the ‘70s style feminism with which the character was identified was dated and mandated her removal from the book. That was a disappointment, not just for losing a strong character, but because Claremont and other writers really had moved away from the “straw man” feminism of the earlier issues of the series (for the most part). But worse than losing the character was the way that she was written out.

Industry vets Jim Shooter, David Michelinie, George Pérez and Bob Layton all got “credit” for the plot that outraged fans. The Marcus story had been intended as some kind of “grand romantic” plot, yet the various men involved in writing and editing the story failed to realize that a sequence where Marcus “won” Carol via abducting her, subjecting her to romantic and psychological pressure and finally giving her a “boost” via mind control wasn’t romance, it was rape. Worse, the “happy” ending saw Carol leaving her life behind to run off with her rapist.

Claremont, who’d put so much effort into developing Carol’s character, channeled his outrage and his clout as the writer of Marvel’s top-selling book to demand the next Avengers annual to address the injustice. It’s notable as the first appearance of Rogue and for broadening the Brotherhood of Evil Mutants beyond the X-Men sphere. It’s also the genesis of the close friendship between Carol and Spider-Woman Jessica Drew (a bond that’s gotten a lot of play in recent years). Claremont did some fantastic work with the story; the Avengers/Brotherhood battle was exciting and unpredictable, while Carol’s anger-fueled confrontation with the Avengers was some of Claremont’s best dramatic writing. He thereafter reclaimed the character, making her part of the X-Men’s supporting cast and remaking her as Binary.

The artists represented in the collection are a mix of Marvel bullpen regulars of the era (Jim Mooney, Carmine Infantino, Mike Vosburg) with some notable heavy hitters. Claremont’s Uncanny X-Men collaborator Dave Cockrum contributed two issues, but more notably re-designed Ms. Marvel’s costume, debuting the black one-piece with the lightning bolt emblem that became the character’s iconic look for many years. Detours into Marvel’s various team-up books brought contributions from legends-in-the-making Howard Chaykin and Frank Miller. Pérez brought his flair to the time-bending Avengers story that was intended as Ms. Marvel’s swan song, doing some strong visual work even for a tale with a flawed premise. The team of Michael Golden and Armando Gil contributed some jaw-dropping work for the Annual, conjuring up some amazing pages that brought out the drama and emotion of the story. It’s a good cross-section of where Marvel’s house style was as it moved from the late ‘70s into the ‘80s.

Justice League Odyssey gets off to a much stronger start than its troubled launch might have suggested with The Ghost Sector.

At the conclusion of No Justice, a collection of planets that had been miniaturized and hidden on the destroyed planet Colu were restored to normal size and pushed into a tight cluster, dubbed “The Ghost Sector.” Green Lantern Jessica Cruz guards the quarantined sector and follows when the heroes Cyborg, Starfire and Azrael go barreling through the radiation zone surrounding the sector. The trio had been lured from Earth by an irresistible impulse that leads the heroes to the reborn Darkseid. He insists he wants to save the endangered multiverse, but proves elusive. The heroes make a rather startling discovery about their connection to the Ghost Sector and get enmeshed in local planetary skirmishes. Darkseid manipulates them from the shadows as the heroes discover the secret reason these planets had been locked away.

The launch of Justice League Odyssey had been delayed by several months when editorial issues dictated that the creative team scrap a significant amount of already-completed material and start over. That could give potential readers pause, but with The Ghost Sector, writer Joshua Williamson makes the most of an oddball “Justice League in Space” concept to produce an appealing first arc. The book benefits from the friction of its random cast, a non-intuitive mix that winds up working better than it has any right to. This series provides a more natural leadership role for Cyborg and, in a nod to pre-New 52 history, acknowledges his long-time friendship with Starfire, who’s matured into a warrior in touch with her compassion. Out-of-his-element Azrael provides an agreeable X-factor, while Jessica Cruz has developed in a solid, steadying rock for this misfit non-team. Williamson devises a clever connection to the Sector that jolts the heroes, while deploying Darkseid as an operatic manipulator whose shadow looms over the quartet of heroes, even as his motivations emerge only slowly. This is a nice example of taking an unlikely group of characters and mixing them in a way that makes them a compelling whole. With new concepts and threats in the mix, Williamson is doing enough to keep the proceedings worth watching, with some potentially significant impacts for other books.

One aspect of the delayed launch that has a significant impact is on the artists involved. Stjepan Sejic had been lined up for the entire first arc, but following the re-start was able to complete only two issues (providing his own inks and colors) before having to depart. And while this may not be peak Sejic, he’s always an interesting artist and sets the right visual tone for the book, getting the mix of horror-tinged sci-fi and space opera just right. His character work is expressive, even if the cast is prone to dramatic posing, and his design ideas are imaginative and mine Williamson’s plot for some fun visual riffs. Philippe Briones, working with colorist Jeremy Cox, plies a similar aesthetic on the next two issues, though not quite with the flair of Sejic. Carmine Di Giandomenico rounds out the arc, leaning more into the sci-fi aspects, which gives colorist Ivan Plascencia the opportunity to expand the issue’s palate beyond the darker, more muted colors of the earlier installments. The artwork is all interesting, but given the necessity of bringing in pinch hitters after Sejic’s departure, readers can’t help but wonder what the long-term look of the series will be.

Are comic book release delays inevitable?

With a steady flow of delay announcements in the industry in recent months, especially from the Big Two, it certainly can feel that way. Over at Marvel, in addition to the frequent problem of the concluding issues of its event series coming out late, several high profile ongoings have experienced delays, some more than once. Titles such as Iron Man, Captain America, Ms. Marvel, Black Panther and Fantastic Four have all fallen victim recently.

Over at DC, a few much-publicized series launches had to be pushed back at least a couple months, including Justice League Odyssey, Batman and the Outsiders and Shazam. The first two were due to editorial issues that mandated scrapping already produced material and starting over, while Shazam has already seen multiple additional issue release delays in its short lifespan. An even bigger problem for DC are delays for its limited and event series. The capper to Dark Nights: Metal was pushed back several weeks and Heroes in Crisis saw one issue be a couple weeks tardy (though quickly got back on track), while the concluding issue of the much-discussed Batman: Damned is facing setbacks that keep piling up.

And then there’s Doomsday Clock. The 12-part series, part Watchmen homage/sequel and part capper to the mega-story begun with Rebirth, has become the poster child for release delays. Launching in November 2017, it was supposed to roll out over the course of 14 months, with two scheduled “skip” months, before concluding in December 2018. But only a couple of issues in, the creative team was already falling behind and DC announced the book would release on a revised bi-monthly schedule. Except that even that proved unworkable. Nine issues have made it out to date, with the tenth notoriously pushed back multiple times. Previously slated to hit stores in March 2019, per the revised bi-monthly release plan, issue #10 is now tentatively penciled in for early July, with the 11th issue (once expected in May 2019), now solicited for the end of August, with the series capper not on the calendar at the moment. DC has announced two collections for the book. Volume 1, covering the first six issues, should hit its October 2019 release date. As for the January 2020 date for Volume 2? That very much depends on issue #12 seeing the light of day before year’s end, a scenario that’s by no means guaranteed.

Release delays seem to be a vicious circle for the industry, especially for the big two. There will be a phase, like now, where delays seem to run rampant, causing unrest for fans and retailers that risks alienating them. So eventually the companies will crack down and commit to getting their books out on time. Often that requires the use of substitute or supplemental creators to produce pages that allow an issue to make deadline. But if that happens often enough, while a book may release on time, fans then grow restless that anticipated creative teams aren’t around for an entire arc. And then publishers over-correct back the other way, starting the whole cycle again.

Ask fans if they’d rather have issues come out late but with the preferred creative team or come out on time, but with additional/different writers and/or artists and you’d probably get a different answer every time. But do delays have to happen at all? Can’t companies remedy the issue?

To an extent they can. Look at Image. After its splashy early ‘90s debut, the company became ground zero for egregious release delays, especially outside the books published by the founding partners. Image would strike a deal with whomever the hot talent of the moment was and make a big announcement about their creator-owned project. But as happened frequently, those series were lucky to produce an issue or two before lengthy delays set in. Many never produced more installments.

Whereas Image had previously prided itself on not being like a traditional comic book company, within a decade, the publisher put more structure in place to help mitigate many of the issues that had plagued it. Especially when it came to books not produced by one of the owner/partner studios, Image would expect a certain percentage of a series or arc to be completed before announcing it and soliciting orders.

In part, that desire to announce projects from high profile creators is a big part of the eventual delay problem. Publishers want the headlines that come from trumpeting that a blue chip creative team is doing a project for them, but often those announcements are unworkably premature, as sometimes not a single page has actually been produced. That’s a big risk, especially with creators who are either heavily scheduled or not known for their speed.

Both of those issues seem to be part of DC’s recent problems. Geoff Johns, writer of both Doomsday Clock and Shazam, has a lot of demands on his time, especially given his involvement with various movie and television productions. Both series also feature fan-favorite artists who are particular “go to” collaborators for Johns (Gary Frank for Clock, Dale Eaglesham for Shazam), but who aren’t noted for their speed. For a series like Doomsday Clock, which is packed with characters and also uses a throwback nine-panel grid outline for most of its pages (as part of the Watchmen homage), that can further bog down the process.

The question then is, can DC really find allowing a series to come in nearly a year late to be preferable to tagging in additional help to finish it sooner? After all, Doomsday Clock is expected to have a significant impact on DC’s entire line. The longer the finale is delayed, the further DC has to punt that down the line, affecting any number of other books in the process.

The dirty little secret of the industry these days is that no matter how often senior execs talk about the importance of the monthly periodical business, that segment has become a low priority for most companies. Collected editions have become a bigger driver of profits, especially in the age of multimedia content deals. DC would rather Gary Frank draw the entirety of Doomsday Clock, however long it takes, because they have every reason to expect the collected edition to be a perennial strong seller. The kind of series that remains in print, in one format or another, indefinitely and moves units reliably each year. Whatever short term losses the company may experience from disaffected fans drifting away from the release of individual issues they expect to make up with long-term trade sales. And long-term trade sales benefit from having a single, superstar artist on the book.

The Magic Order unites A-List creators Mark Millar and Olivier Coipel in the first series from the Image/Netflix collaboration.

The Order is a secret organization with long roots; protecting average people from mystical threats, its members hide in plain sight. The Moonstone family is prominent in the group. Leonard, a well-known stage magician, is the current leader, a flawed father to his adult children. Daughter Cordelia is the black sheep, a rebellious escapologist whose decisions constantly exasperate her father. Loyal middle son Regan has a fiery temper, but is devoted to his family and its cause. Eldest son Gabriel, possibly the family’s most powerful member, has fled the world of magic in the wake of an unbearable tragedy. A renegade from the Order begins killing its members, using a mysterious assassin, in the pursuit of the most powerful, and most dangerous, book of magic in existence. If the Moonstones can’t unite as a family, the world might be overwhelmed by dark magic.

Millar appears to have a great deal of fun with this series, mixing Shakespearean-inspired family drama with outlandish magical conceits. The Moonstone family are a strong anchor for The Magic Order, providing a vehicle for building out this fictional world while also providing a compelling focal point for the character drama. That Millar handles the interpersonal drama deftly is no surprise, and the complicated, contrary Cordelia emerges as the crucial part of the mix. Millar comes up with some inventive concepts for this world (the location of the Order’s headquarters, a special hotel for magicians) and mixes in solid action concepts and a few well-crafted twists that should more than hold a reader’s interest throughout.

Coipel, a long-time Marvel exclusive, thrives when given the chance to stretch his wings. His trademark style is evident and he tackles the big ideas of the story with flair and imagination. Working with ace colorist Dave Stewart, he crafts a suitably shadow-edged environment for these darker characters, presenting the quiet character moments with as much dynamism as the big ticket action sequences. He contributes some first rate design work and whips up imagery that the Netflix adaptation would be wise to just borrow wholesale. Coipel takes a more classicist approach to page construction, eschewing the trend of overly complex panel design when a more traditional approach serves the storytelling quite well. Stewart’s intuitive sense for the tones that enhance the pages is on full display, giving the whole proceedings a shimmer and glow that’s inviting and attractive, with carefully placed color effects that add interest and dramatic urgency. It’s beautiful, expressive work from the art team, one of the better looking books in recent memory.

This is rated Mature for a reason. There’s some adult content, as well as imagery that might shock some sensibilities; the sequence that opens the series is especially shocking. For all that, nothing here feels gratuitous; the creators are making a book for an adult audience and don’t water down the material, but never feel like they go over the top, either.

The other side of Brian Michael Bendis’ vision for Superman is laid out in Action Comics: Invisible Mafia.

With his family mysteriously absent, Clark Kent endures rumors and speculation about the state of marriage. As both a reporter and Superman, he pursues a string of mysterious fires that leads him close to a Metropolis criminal cabal using strict, subtle methods to operate under the Man of Steel’s radar. Lois Lane’s return and the debut of a dangerous and lethal villain called Red Cloud are steps along a path leading to a significant new threat.

Bendis has indicated that while the Superman title is devoted to universe-spanning superhero action, his Action Comics run is centered more on Clark Kent as a reporter and the cast of characters at the Daily Planet. Not that the Superman persona doesn’t get plenty to do in this arc, but Bendis has come up with a good way to distinguish the two books, also allowing him to spend a little more time focusing on the man behind the superhero identity in Action.

The focus on the Daily Planet is welcome and Bendis cannily uses the current state of traditional newspapers as a potent background element for Clark’s work life. Staples like Perry White and Jimmy Olsen are front and center, but Bendis also works in several new characters (co-workers, allies and adversaries), giving Clark/Superman a lot to bounce off and illustrating how both sides of the character balance out. Red Cloud is an intriguing new enemy, though the “secret” of her identity won’t be much of a surprise.

More interesting is how Bendis elects to handle the Kent/Lane marriage. Before Bendis began his run, there was much concern among fans about the apparent de-emphasis of the family dynamic that had been so appealing in the Rebirth era. And while Bendis takes a different approach to the relationship, it’s still a crucial element of the mix. He plays into Lois’s strength and independence, devising a scenario that has the couple very much still together, even as they’re pursuing separate paths for the moment. Overall, Invisible Mafia shows Bendis effectively blending the kind of grittier crime comics that helped make his reputation with mainstream superhero action. It gives Action Comics a distinct identity and purpose and that bodes well for where the writer is taking the franchise.

Invisible Mafia sees the work of three A-list artistic talents. Patrick Gleason, Yanick Paquette and Ryan Sook take similar approaches to material, so the shift from one to another as the arc progresses is fairly smooth. They all produce clean, bold work with some unexpected stylistic flourishes and compositional choices that enhance the storytelling and effectively communicate the intentions of Bendis’ plotting. Each comes up with an expressive interpretation of the book’s star (as both Clark and Superman), that’s the best melding of classic and modern. Color artists Alejandro Sanchez, Brad Anderson and Nathan Fairbairn tackle different parts of the arc and contribute significantly to visual appeal, nailing the contrasts between bright, dazzling moments, dark, shadowy corners and some crucial shading choices that surround important elements of the story (Red Cloud’s appearances, a bout with Kryptonite).

The New Teen Titans Volume 10 found the franchise in a transitional phase after the departure of co-creator George Pérez.

After parting ways with Lilith, the Titans learned the background of new ally Kole, coming into conflict with her mad scientist parents who were certain environmental doom was imminent and were willing to take extreme measures to survive it. A child’s ghost put the team onto a fifty-year-old murder, while a flashback detailed an encounter with a bizarre alien team called the Vanguard and one of Superman’s biggest foes. Then the Titans became enmeshed in Crisis on Infinite Earths, while the winged alien now known as Azrael was gulled by the Church of Brother Blood, as Arella’s search brought her closer and closer to her daughter, Raven. After a lengthy exile, Starfire was called back to her home planet Tamaran to reunite with her parents (with Nightwing and Jericho in tow), unaware that her vengeful sister was lurking in the shadows or that she’d be expected to fulfill a duty that would rip apart the life she’d built on Earth. Meanwhile, Changeling’s adoptive father, using the helmet that gave him the powers of Mento, became unhinged and promised to be a major threat.

After the second New Teen Titans series opened with the one-two punch of the finale of the Raven saga and the impressive Olympians spectacle, most of the issues collected in Volume 10 found the book treading water, gestating plots that wouldn’t pay off until a bit further down the road. Writer Marv Wolfman was, of course, embroiled in the massive Crisis series at the time, suggesting he was stalling until the new order that the climax of Crisis ushered in for DC. There was still plenty of good characterization, as the cast navigated romantic ups and downs, family drama and other personal preoccupations. The early focus on Kole was well done (even if the environmental message of the story was delivered a bit hamfistedly), setting her up as an interesting addition to the cast and making Wolfman’s decision to kill her off not too much later in Crisis all the more puzzling. Other characters (notably fan favorite Wonder Girl) seemed to drift along without much going on.

The Crisis tie-in issue itself was disjointed, with half of it devoted to the cast’s personal issues and much of the rest of it a re-hash of the team’s involvement in the main series, with only the sequence showing Cyborg’s initial recruitment into Monitor’s strike force being of note. The ghost story and the introduction of the Vanguard felt like filler of differing degrees of success. This stretch doesn’t really kick into gear until the final two issues collected here, exploiting the building romantic drama between Starfire and Nightwing against the backdrop of her unstable home planet, while also dramatizing Mento’s emotional breakdown. Raven remained an ethereal background presence nearly a year after the climax of the first arc, but both she and Azrael loomed to feature in the return of Brother Blood.

A hodgepodge of artists featured in a relatively brief a run. José Luis García-López delivered only two more issues as regular artist, but they were absolutely gorgeous, as he took a softer focus, more impressionistic approach that fit the horror elements of the Kole story quite effectively. Eduardo Barreto came aboard as the regular artist, consciously aping Pérez’s style, but without as significant an impact. In between, Stan Woch, later to be known for his horror and fantasy work, contributed a surprisingly mainstream issue that added some interest to the ghost story. Veterans Ed Hannigan and Mike DeCarlo did their usual clean, professional work on the otherwise forgettable Vanguard story. Series staples Romeo Tanghal on inks and Adrienne Roy on colors provided some continuity, but the book couldn’t help but miss the innovation that Pérez had brought to it. Still, there was no bad work here.