The Splash Page: Comics and Wrestling (Part Two)

[A special holiday edition of the Splash Page that has nothing to do with the holidays. Read the first part over at Tim's blog and then come back here for the second half...]

Chad Nevett: What do you think of the matches themselves or the storytelling? The stories are usually quite basic, but have any caught your interest?

Tim Callahan: I'm amused by Sheamus's rise to prominence and this whole notion of whether he deserves the title or not, even though the pretty clear story is that he doesn't deserve the title and that's the whole point. But the other storylines I know of -- the stuff with Randy Orton and Legacy, the rise in popularity of Kofi Kingston, the betrayal/feud between Batista and Rey Mysterio -- these things seem compelling and yet utterly simplistic. I can see why kids can enjoy the theatrics of it, and I can certainly see the connection between wrestling and superhero comics, with the repetition, the clear good guys and bad guys, and the obligatory fights. But for me, wrestling is more akin to travelling theatrical troupes from the middle ages or early Renaissance. Taking their shows from town to town in a caravan. Entertaining the crowd.

And I think I like comics for the art more than anything else. The art of the storytelling. The style of the visuals. I understand that wrestling can have style within the matches, but the acting in the tv skits is just terrible, and the wrestling I saw in Albany was mostly boring. Not much high-flying action, just a lot of headbutts and crawling around on the mat. It was the equivalent of reading a Mark Bagley comic.

In wrestling, have there been any storylines with the depth of the comics of Grant Morrison or Alan Moore. Or Joe Casey or Warren Ellis? Or are they all Jeph Loeb stories, because that's what it seems like from my outsider's perspective?

CN: There have been stories that have gone beyond what's happening now, but not by a lot necessarily. Earlier in the year, the feud between Jeff Hardy and CM Punk was rather good with CM Punk winning the Money in the Bank ladder match at WrestleMania, which gave him a briefcase with a world title contract that he could 'cash in' at any time. He chose to do so after Hardy finally won the world belt off of Edge, which was surprising because Punk was a face at the time and that seemed a dick move. That began his slow turn to being a heel where they used his straight edge lifestyle as his selling point and he brought up Hardy's past drug problems. That was notable, I think, for them being willing to bring those real life personal problems up when a lot of kids probably didn't know about them. A feud between Chris Jericho and Shawn Michaels last year was amazing in its construction and execution. Normally, I don't get too invested in storylines beyond superficial enjoyment, but that one had me. Jericho is, by far, my favourite wrestler and he had me hoping Michaels would win the culmination of their feud, a ladder match for the World Heavyweight Championship. That may not be as deep as some comics, but getting me to hope that the guy I like more than anyone else will lose, that's some damn good storytelling.

I think you're right that it is theatre and not as sophisticated as many superhero comics -- but that's because of the limitations of the medium/genre and that wrestlers use a style of acting that big and loud, which doesn't translate well to quieter moments (which is why backstage segments are often very bad). But, I also think that wrestling does action and violence better than 99% of the superhero comics out there. Even the quickest, most boring matches are more exciting, for me, than almost any fight I've seen in a superhero comic, if only because wrestlers know how to contruct a fight, a back-and-forth contest between two opponents, and writers and artists don't. Or, at least, the experience of wrestling gives them a big advantage that writers and artists seldom have. I guess we disagree there a bit. But, then again, the WWE doesn't often have amazing matches. I got the first Dragon Gate USA pay-per-view on DVD for Christmas and it was the best single line-up of matches I've ever seen. Lots of high energy, high impact matches with wrestlers from Japan and North America. Probably something more to your speed.

TC: Well, fight choreography is about movement, so it's no surprise that wrestling does that better than comics. Though I'd still rather read a Kirby fight scene, or one by Denys Cowan or Frank Miller, than watch a wrestling match, even one that's better than what I might see on WWE.

And since plot and character are less important to me than tone and style, I don't think I'll ever succumb to the wiles of wrestling. From what I've seen, the tone and style only allow for so much variation, while in comics anything's possible.

If you had to choose -- if you could only read comics or only watch wrestling -- which one would be your top pick. Which is more important to you and why?

CN: Comics is a medium, while wrestling is a genre, so I think the answer is obvious: comics. One big plus for wrestling, though, is that I can experience most of it for free on TV. That nearly makes it a tough call. But, no, comics is more important to me than wrestling. That's one thing I've really hated about this whole wrestling/comics thing at CSBG: I have to be far more positive about wrestling than I actually feel. It has a lot of faults like you've pointed out. Its storytelling is limited and relies exclusively on conflict whereas comics can tell stories that go beyond that. I don't agree about your assessment of how each handles the fights (I'd choose the best wrestling over the best comic book fight any day of the week without question), but beyond that, comics can do more than wrestling. Superhero comics can do more than wrestling. Wrestling is a very narrow and limited genre, which is fine, because it's very entertaining. But, it's fictionalised sport -- would you choose football over comics? Some would, of course, just as some would choose wrestling, but you can see my point: I'm interested in stories and how they're told and what they tell, and comics can do so much more than wrestling. Thankfully, I don't have to choose.

To end things, I just want to touch on comics about wrestling. Titan will be publishing WWE Heroes in March and I've got to know: will you be buying it for your son?

TC: God, no. I saw some preview pages of that and it looks like something Malibu Comics would have squeezed out in 1995. Only worse. So, no.

Not because it's about wrestling characters. Because it's drawn with the grace and dignity of wrestling characters.

Would I buy a Quitely-drawn wrestling comic? A J. H. Williams III one? A Chris Ware one? Yes. Let's make those happen.

CN: Most westling comics, particularly licensed ones, are pretty bad. I may pick up the first issue for reviewing purposes -- or if I can get a gig going discussing/reviewing issues, but otherwise, I'm avoiding it as well.

And that does it. I don't know if we actually accomplished anything or shed new light on any subjects, but it was fun.

The Splash Page: The Plot and Characters of "Dark Reign" (Part One)

[We have returned and are trying to become better critics/dudes who talk about comic books. We may not succeed, but it should be fun to watch...

Chad Nevett: Normally, in the Splash Page, our focus is more on how stories are told (technique, style, and other elements) rather than what the story actually is. In discussing reviewing, Tim has revealed that he doesn't really care about what happens so much as how it is presented to the reader. Well, this discussion is going to change that as Tim and I have decided to discuss "Dark Reign" on purely plot and character levels (or try to, at least), talking about what we liked, what we disliked, and, really, let our inner fanboys out a bit. I already kicked things off (without meaning to) with my post on Noh-Varr and Dark Avengers annual #1, which was all about how Brian Michael Bendis has ruined that character in my eyes, so let's use that as a jumping off point: do you agree with my assessment of the use of Noh-Varr or do you like what Bendis has done?

Tim Callahan: Okay, let me see if I can keep this on purely a plot and character level: the plot of Dark Avengers annual #1 was no good. And neither was the characterization. And since we aren't getting into style, I won't bother complaining about the design of "Captain Marvel's" new costume. I mean, everyone has seen it, so I don't need to ridicule it any more.

Back to the plot stuff! Here's the thing: I'm not as proprietary about Noh-Varr as you are. I don't have any overwhelming compulsion to see the Morrison version of the character pop up in the comics of other writers, and if a writer has the character do something that seems out of place (which I guess is more of a character complaint than a plot one), it doesn't usually bother me much at all. I thought the Noh-Varr was dull in Young Avengers/Runaways, or whatever that comic was called, but I wasn't offended by what he said or did there. It wasn't good, but it wasn't the worst thing ever.

Noh-Varr's characterization and the plot of that Dark Avengers annual kind of did offend me, though. Not offend me, really, but annoy me. Because I don't know who that guy is in that comic, but it's not Noh-Varr, and it's not even Marvel Boy. It's some "stranger in a strange world" who's trying to grok the people of Earth -- some dorky, confused space-hippy -- when the character is supposed to be operating on a level that's way ahead of our current processing ability. He's ultra-kick-ass punk rock super-genius spaceboy. Or that's what he should be. That's what he was. Even in his watered-down non-Morrison appearances.

Until that ridiculous annual. That annual that has him somehow contact some version of the Kree Supreme Intelligence (I have no idea how that works within the context of Marvel continuity and/or parallel universes within that continuity). That annual that showed him not as a insect-laced super-scout from space, but a space-puppy. A nice little lapdog who couldn't be with Normy because he was naughty.

Am I even talking about plot and character here? I don't know how to do that without talking about the way the writer used these techniques. Plot and character don't exist without the authorial hand.

CN: Yeah, I know, I was thinking the same thing.

What surprised me most is that the internal logic of the story didn't make sense. Noh-Varr learns that these Avengers are bad guys: wouldn't that make him more inclined to return to his 'take over everything and remake it in Hala's image' plan? Obviously, the system is broken, humanity has screwed up and needs to be taken in hand to improve. I think where Bendis misses the point is that this character sees taking over and remaking the world as protecting it. He wouldn't just play superhero like everyone else, he's here to save us from ourselves. Sadly, the fake spoiler I gave at Comics Should be Good regarding Oubliette returning would have been far better. God, that sounds so sad and lame, doesn't it? "Screw you, Bendis, my version is better! PWND! LOL!" Shoot me now. Is this why we don't discuss plot and character specifically?

Going beyond that, how have you enjoyed "Dark Reign" in general? Have you been interested throughout or has it seemed like a year of kind of okay stories? Do you love or hate Norman Osborn? Ever want to see him in another comic again?

TC: I don't feel anything towards Norman Osborn, because he's a fictional character. But I have enjoyed seeing him play the Jerry-Lewis-as-Darth-Vader role in the Marvel Universe for the past year. I think it's safe to say that "Dark Reign" > Secret Invasion, mathematically speaking. I liked Norman Osborn's appearance in the Joe Casey-penned Zodiac series, and I like what's happening to him in the more recent issues of Dark Avengers. He ain't holdin' it together too well, that guy.

It's certainly the most interesting version of Norman Osborn that I've ever seen -- this guy who took over the Thunderbolts and then became the maniacal Nick Fury of the upside down world. Though Bendis'a Osborn isn't quite as viciously interesting as the character in the hands of Warren Ellis, he's still visibly on the same end of the spectrum. (Unlike Noh-Varr, Morrison version compared to Bendis version.)

I really like the Hood, too. And his role in Punisher has been great.

Overall, I'm pro-"Dark Reign."

You?

CN: I've enjoyed it on the whole. I liked that Bendis made a crack about Osborn going overboard and doing everything in an issue of Dark Avengers to poke fun at him being in every book. I've really liked Osborn when he seems genuine in his desire to make this work and do his job well. He's still a messed up crazy guy, but at least he's trying to do the right thing, which is far more interesting than him just being an evil smarmy bastard all of the time. It's a shame that far too much of the time is spent on him being an evil smarmy bastard.

Some people didn't enjoy the scene, but his first discussion with the Sentry in the third or fourth issue of Dark Avengers is still one of my favourite moments to come out of "Dark Reign" as Osborn half-manipulates the Sentry, but also comes down to his level and says, "I know you have problems, but so do I and look at me, I'm doing great, which means you can get better, too." It was a really humanising moment for Osborn and, again, made him interesting. Watching him struggle to keep it together and overcome the image that some have of him was usually the best stuff for me whereas typical supervillain behaviour left me cold.

[To be continued over at Tim's blog...]

The Splash Page: The Decline of Quality in 2009 (Part Two)

[The first part of our conversation can be read at Tim's blog...]

Chad Nevett: I agree. Something is missing. I don't know what. One thing that I think it may be, and this is just my personal feelings, is that I'm kind of sick of the weekly grind of comics. Every single week, there's more. There's always more. TV seasons aren't year-round every week affairs. Movies are always coming out, but whether or not there's one you want to see is debatable. As well, there isn't that constant need/pressure to keep up -- and, movies aren't serial. Seeing a new movie or two each week doesn't get stale, because it's always something new. With comics, it's the same thing over and over again. Going to the shop becomes a habit, not a joy. Some weeks, it is a joy because of a book or two that's special, but, for the most part, it's habit. I've actually been looking forward to the December 30th skip week, because it means there is one week out of the year where I don't have to care about comics. I love comics, but sometimes it feels a bit much. This ties to the event stuff, I'd argue, where companies have tried to make it more and more like everything they release is important and you must know right away and, as I said, Secret Invasion and Final Crisis both left people unsatisfied and killed that mood, made people less willing to buy that idea.

The quality of the books aside... I'm not sure the quality is less. I genuinely think Bendis and company did great jobs with the Dark Avengers annual and Siege: The Cabal (although my personal feelings towards the treatment of Noh-Varr were kept out of my review as much as possible since that's one of my big biases). Would they have gotten the same reviews a year ago? I can't say, but I think so. I know that it's a sliding scale and is very much of the moment, star ratings not being an exact science, but I think they would have got the same reviews from me.

You bring up Iron Fist, Captain Britain & MI:13, and Ghost Rider, and maybe those are missing: where are the critically acclaimed books that no one is buying except for us? Looking through my box of comics that I'm currently buying, there are the Vertigo books, the Marvel top-sellers, the two Bat-books, some mini-series, and... Secret Warriors. Is Secret Warriors all that's left of the cult books? I know people talk up Incredible Hercules, but I tried it and didn't love it... is what's missing the third-tier books that we point to when people say superhero books from the big two are crap to say "But they publish this!"? Or am I just missing out on these books somehow?

Tim Callahan: I stuck with Incredible Hercules for a while, but I've grown tired of that as well. The art started to become hammy sometime this year, and it's like hitting every joke with a rimshot, which is neither funny nor un-annoying. (Speaking of that, and I don't remember to exact review or message board post, but someone on the CBR forum complained about one of my reviews because I complained about the art tonally matching the comedy of some story, and the poster said something like, "oh my gosh, imagine the art matching the story!" But, yeah, it is stupid when the characters are exaggerated to add exclamation points to the comedy sometimes. Unless you think that the epitome of comedy is watching Jim Carrey ham it up, then you know that sometime -- usually -- it's funnier when the humor comes with the straight-faced delivery.)

Secret Warriors is good, true, though last issue was more of a connect-the-seemingly-unwoven-continuity-threads issue than a real Hickman romp. Speaking of Hickman, his Fantastic Four is damn good. So that's a glimmer of hope in the superhero landscape.

I don't think the weekly grind is the problem -- for me at least. I love looking forward to Wednesdays, still, after how ever many years. Let me calculate this. I've been a regular Wednesday comic shopper since at least 1986. That's 1,196 Wednesdays. I've missed a couple during that time, but I bet I've missed no more than a dozen total in all those years. But it is true that my normal Wednesday visits used to contain more diversity. Now it's pretty much all Marvel and DC, and I get the independent stuff in trades from Amazon or at conventions. Comics may have more diversity than ever right now, but you wouldn't know it from the Wednesday doses.

So, to answer your question about underappreciated third-tier books, the stuff that we can point to as highlights of superhero comics beyond the big-name stuff, well, there's...I don't know. Agents of Atlas is basically done, right? Looking at the stuff that's selling less than Secret Warriors just goes to show how much junk is being published right now. Teen Titans. New Mutants. Brave and the Bold. Magog. Power Girl looks great, but the stories are weak. X-Men Forever. War Machine. Black Panther 2.

The Outsiders. Good thing the dynamic duo of DiDio and Tan are coming in to save the day on that one.

Man, these are some bad comics. We should review more of these bottom-of-the-barrel just to see if they're as bad as they were last time I read them. Maybe they've improved?

CN: I'm always up for reviewing crap comics. Those are the fun reviews to write. But, it seems that a lot of the recently-launched series that aren't selling well aren't getting good reviews either, which is odd. Those books always exist, but there's usually a good mixture of very good comics thrown in for everyone to point to as examples, but recent launches like Magog, Doom Patrol, New Mutants... they've all gotten, what, three stars at best? Even a book like SWORD, which seems ripe for 'cult hit' status didn't really knock either of us over with its first issue. We went through a long period of rather good superhero books going all the way back to 1999 or so with the altered Wildstorm line of books and then right on through to Quesada/Jemas at Marvel and... well, the ride had to end at some point, right? Or maybe it's just a lull. A six months to a year where we all just take a breather before things pick up again. In the past year, Marvel switched their focus to a lot of mini-series (specially the Dark Reign variety) and only one or two of them have been anything more than decent; DC continues to flounder as books come out to sounds of silence as no one cares. I'm kind of curious to see what happens after both of their events are over. That could be the turning point...

I honestly don't know what the problem is. Of course, people will tell us that we're just reading the wrong comics or are wrong to not appreciate the brilliance of Magog, but, come on, this general sense of 'who gives a fuck' isn't isolated to us. The only time people seem to get excited is when it's time to trash a horrible comic like Cry for Justice. Otherwise, it's mostly 'Read some decent books, nothing to say about them really, what else is new?'

I don't know...

TC: I guess the only thing to do now is put out the Callahan/Nevett Creator Challenge, open to all comic book writers and artists. Here it is: "Make really great comics.You know you want to. Enough with the mediocre. We've been through that already."

Um, that's really the extent of the challenge. Winner gets our undying love. Losers get, well, I guess they just keep getting work.

CN: That challenge wasn't in effect already? Why the hell not?

The Splash Page: Almost the Best of the '00s (Part 1)

[We have returned! And we totally aren't continuing from where we left off last time! Why? Because we didn't feel like it. Ah well. Enjoy anyway...]

Tim Callahan: It looks like I'll be doing a big-time two-part "Best Comics of the Decade" festivapaolooza thing at the end of the year as part of my "When Words Collide" column, but the word on the mean streets of Comic Book Town is that you won't be doing any sort of "Best of the 00's" list at all. What's with that? Is your new wrestling column sucking up all your free time? Do you not like any comics of the past decade? Are you afraid that listing ten consecutive Joe Casey comics followed by a few Warren Ellis runs will cause you to lose friends and un-influence people?

Because I'm telling you right now, my Top Ten of the Decade is ALL Morrison. (I may be lying about that.)

Chad Nevett: I don't feel qualified, honestly. I only read comics in a large enough amount during the second half of the decade when I actually had money to spend on them on a regular basis. But, more than that... I don't want to? I really don't feel like doing a best of the decade list. I'm happy to do my regular best of the year list and leave it at that with maybe some variation on the best of the decade post. Besides, it would be a lot of Warren Ellis, Garth Ennis, Grant Morrison, and Joe Casey... and I did top whatever lists of Ellis and Casey's works this past year, so there's a big tip-off. Plus, I just had to do a top ten storylines list for Brian Cronin's thing over at Comics Should be Good. And, yes, the wrestling gets in the way as I need to do lists for best of the year stuff there, too. How many lists must I do, Tim? When will you be satisfied? When?

TC: When we've listed everything. Then, I rest.

But since you're not into the whole list thing, what we need to do is talk about what might have been in contention for a possible list that you would have theoretically made at some undetermined point, maybe. And I can talk about the stuff that made my "under consideration" list, but didn't crack the Top 20, and therefore won't appear in my WWC column.

Because I came up with over 40 worthy comics, easily. And I want to talk about some of the not-making-the-cutters. Like DC: The New Frontier, for example. I enjoyed it upon first release and fell in love with it in its Absolute Edition, but it didn't make my Best of the Decade Top 20. Darwyn Cooke's a pretty powerful force in the comic book art world -- he really made his mark in this decade, but the series is just a bit too light to make the cut. It's a brilliant celebration of the DCU, of the Silver Age, but that's kind of all it is.

Would it have been in contention for your possible list that you refuse to make?

CN: Not New Frontier, which I got the first trade of shortly after it came out and didn't enjoy. Then, I recently reread that first trade and was still unimpressed. A few nice scenes that don't really fit together. Maybe it reads better as a whole, but I'm not inclined to give that shot. That's a bit of a tangent.

Some books that would probably make my list... Transmetropolitan would be there even though its best days were pre-2000. Wildcats volume two by Joe Casey and Sean Phillips would be there -- and, if I didn't combine it with Wildcats Version 3.0, it would rank higher than the subsequent series since it's, well, better. Automatic Kafka would rank high as would Marvel Boy and Punisher MAX and Casanova and many, many others. The obvious suspects, really. See, I don't need to make a list -- people who've been following my writing for more than two weeks could figure it out on their own.

So, I'll throw out a title that would surprise some: The Dark Knight Strikes Again. It's almost become fashionable for online critics to proclaim their love for this fantastic series, but trust me when I say I've been a fan since it came out. I love the insane energy of the book, the sheer balls that Miller displays in fearlessly doing with those characters as he wishes, and just having fun. When people were bemoaning Batman being too grim in his book, Miller just made a fun Batman comic that's bright and shiny and stupid. Hell, I'd maybe throw All-Star Batman and Robin, the Boy Wonder in there as well since I have a fondness for that. (And, yes, it would still rank higher than All-Star Superman... just to spite you...) Would The Dark Knight Strikes Again come anywhere near your list or was it brushed aside?

TC: By the time our conversation hits the eager internet public, you'll know that I just wrote a whole column about Dark Knight Strikes Again for CBR. [Edit: Ooops...] That is, if I ever get around to writing it, which I'm planning to do, um, sometime today, maybe? This is like witnessing time travel.

Dark Knight Strikes Again just misses my Top 20 cut, though. It comes in at #22, just after X-Statix. Is DKSA more important than that Milligan/Allred camp fest? Sure, but I'll take Allred's art over Miller's current style anytime. I do enjoy DKSA for its madness, for its spectacle, for its rambling attacks on liberal America and the way Miller wraps his love for DC's Silver Age icons into a lumpy allegory about more things than an allegory should probably be about.

I need to stop talking about it, otherwise I'll use up all my commentary before I write my column. Anyway, see that for more of my DKSA thoughts.

All-Star Batman and Robin was on my preliminary Best of the Decade list, but it didn't crack the Top 40 when I started ranking things. I miss that comic, though. It was something to look forward too, no matter how awkward and discordant some of the individual issues were. It has gained a kind of happy glow in its absence. Mainstream comics are distinctly lacking in strong authorial voices these days.

Better than All-Star Superman, though? Well, even you must know that such an idea is ludicrous. I'm waiting for the day when you realize what a masterpiece All-Star Superman is. I mean, the Quitely art alone makes it one of the best comics of the decade, surely.

Still haven't read Transmet or Wildcats vol. 2, but I do have a complete Wildcats 3.0 run that I always intended to finish. So those won't make my list out of pure ignorance and laziness. Automatic Kafka I do like, but not enough to crack even the preliminary list. You won't see that on very many Best of lists I'm afraid, which is why you NEED to make one. You need to balance the scales of ignorance and anti-Caseyism.

Here's one that was pretty damn good but didn't make my final list: Umbrella Academy. I think the second arc is even better than the first, but their combined awesomeness still didn't catapult the series into my Top 20. Would it show up on your non-list at all?

CN: I've yet to read it, honestly. It's on the list of things to get, but that list is long, my friend... And Quitely's art on All-Star Superman is indeed great, but there are other series where he does the art that I like a whole lot more.

I couldn't agree with you more about All-Star Batman and Robin, the Boy Wonder (full title, dammit!) and Miller's strong authorial voice. It's one of the reasons I have a fondness for his recent work as he just does exactly what he wants with no apologies. Hell, I even liked The Spirit for that reason. You so rarely see work that uncompromising and pure in its intention/execution. It may falter at times, but it's interesting. And, as Steven Grant said this week, interesting trumps good most of the time.

Automatic Kafka topped my ten favourite storylines list, so it's represented elsewhere by me. And it was on Tom Spurgeon's preliminary top superhero books list.

Here's a technical question in the matter of this sort of list-making: are you including just new works that were released during the past decade or also including repackaged works where the collections came out during the past decade? I've always had a certain dislike for reprints of old material being included in 'best of' lists since they weren't really works from that time period. Then again, when I used to do lists of my favorite albums of the year, I always had a category for albums I bought that year that were from previous years to recognise that that year's music experience was broader than just the new releases. So, what's your view on reprints being included? An example I'd be tempted to include: Absolute Authority, which, of course, collects material that can't make the list since it came out in 1999 (though the last two issues of the Ellis/Hitch run came out in early 2000 -- but, come on, it's a pre-2000 book), but the collection is gorgeous and wonderful. Is it fair to include it in its collected form despite the individual issues (excluding the final two issues) not qualifying?

TC: If the serialized version was in no way published in this decade, I think it's unfair to list it. Which is one of the reasons my list will contain less manga than it should. Not that I've read a whole lot of manga anyway, but Drifting Classroom would definitely be on the Top 10 of the Decade IF it were actually released in this decade. The fact that it was translated and repackaged for American audiences thirty years after its original release doesn't make it a Best of THIS Decade kind of book.

Same goes for the Kirby reprints or the Absolute whatevers. They can get a different list, but it seems foolish to put the reprints next to the stuff that was actually first released in this decade. I mean, you wouldn't just put whatever new Shakespeare or Joyce or Nabokov reprint on the list of Best Books of the Year, so why would anyone do it for comics?

You really need to get on Umbrella Academy. I suspect you'll like it more than I'd like Transmet, though that's totally without basis in fact. But as far as speculation goes, it's a sure thing!

[To be continued at Tim's blog!]

The Splash Page: Final Crisis Aftermath Aftermath Part 2

[In the newest Splash Page, Tim Callahan and I discuss the end of the "Final Crisis Aftermath" mini-series and that leads to other topics... The first part can be read over at Tim's blog.]

Chad Nevett: Yeah, Dance works, because they finally found someone who can follow-up a Grant Morrison idea: Joe Casey. I've been saying for years that Casey is one of the few writers who has the right sensibilities to do Morrison characters justice and here's the proof.

Escape began in a way that seemed like a great continuation of Morrison's ideas... albeit ideas from stuff like The Filth, which seemed more an inspiration than Final Crisis. And I was fine with that, because why not take one Morrison idea of the Question heading up the GPA and throw in the style and storytelling of another, non-superhero, Morrison series? Cool idea. Except it didn't go anywhere, it didn't say anything, and it didn't even really provide a solid framework. Say what you will about The Filth, it does those things: it has a clear point and purpose. I got to the end of Escape and just kind of put it down and went, "Okay, that was a nice read, but what was the point?" It was too much style, not enough substance. Don't get me wrong, I enjoyed the series quite a bit and loved that DC was willing to publish a book that was experimental and did not read like anything else they publish... but it just didn't come together like I wanted. I don't need the big explanation where everything is spelled out, but this book really felt like the first chapter of a bigger story rather than a story in its own right. Whereas Dance can also lead to further stories, but was a complete story, too. Of course, I'm still wondering how Greg Rucka's "Question" co-feature in Detective Comics fits in with the idea of the Question heading up the GPA as established in Final Crisis, and, if she isn't, why do their agents wear the blank face masks? I walked out of Escape with far too many questions -- questions that won't be answered by rereading the comic or working at understanding it like you sometimes need to do with Morrison.

But, were any of these books necessary? Will they be referenced again? I was amused to note that on the sales chart, they all sold relatively similar low numbers, but the numbers decreased over the course of the month -- so Run! sold more than Escape, which sold more than Dance, which sold more than Ink. Weird.

Tim Callahan: Too much of a good thing, I suppose. Or too much of a not very good thing at all.

The Question point is a good one, because it seems pretty clear that she's NOT the head of the GPA in DC continuity and probably never was. It just didn't happen, at least as far as Rucka's story is concerned. So it raises the question: Nine months after Final Crisis, what has stuck?

The Super Young Team is still around.

The Fourth World characters have taken a break.

....and that's about it.

Even Martian Manhunter is back! (Sort of.)

CN: Then why let Morrison make any of those changes? I get so frustrated when companies bring in well-known, critically acclaimed writers to do revamps or events and then ignore everything they did. I don't blame the writers who follow them, I blame editorial. I recently made that point regarding Warren Ellis's Iron Man story where he introduced the Extremis armor, which essentially made Iron Man the Engineer in terms of abilities... and everyone after him wrote Iron Man as Iron Man has always been. THEN WHY HAVE WARREN ELLIS REVAMP AND CHANGE THE CHARACTER, MARVEL? Some blame Ellis for only doing the one story, but that's all he was hired to do and had no obligation to do more -- but, the company had an obligation to follow up on a big change like that. Just as DC has a certain obligation to continue with ideas and characters that were introduced in their big event of the year. How are we to think they matter if, when they're over, nothing actually changes? They seem to want it both ways: they want the prestige of having the Grant Morrisons and Warren Ellises of the world doing their books, but they also want to control everything when those are writers that don't work under strict editorial mandates well and are at the point where they don't have to. When you hire those writers, you either take what they do and treat it with the respect it deserves or don't hire them. What's the point of hiring them and then pretending like it never happened? That doesn't make people want to read what comes next, that just leads to geeky fellows like myself bitching about it online at random times. Why allow Morrison to put the Question as the head of GPA if you're not going to follow through on it? Why not just tell the guy 'no' and when people bitch say that you didn't want it to happen and shut up, because when you own the Question you can make her do whatever you want?

I'm sure there was a point in there somewhere.

TC: Let me distill your point down to its essence: You want the continuity changes made by good writers to stick, and the ones by bad writers not to stick.

I don't see you complaining because Ray Palmer and Jason Todd aren't patrolling the multiverse as they were supposed to do at the end of Countdown. And you're right not to complain. Countdown SHOULD be ignored.

But it is insanely annoying when Marvel and DC are built on super-long saga storytelling in which the little bits matter, but then they ignore the little bits. You can't build a storytelling system out of an interwoven universe if the threads are pulled out seemingly at random every month or two. The whole tapestry falls apart then. All you're left with is little bits of fabric that don't bind together anymore.

Yet you and I both prefer writers to give their own takes on whatever characters they write, so maybe we're complete hypocrites when we complain about lesser writers not following what the best writers have done? Maybe our rule is: If you're good, make changes, ignore stupid things from past continuity. If you're not so good, just follow the lead of the people who know what they're doing.

With all that in mind, what did you think of Jason Aaron's use of Morrison's characters and concepts in the Wolverine: The List issue that just came out?

CN: My point is more: don't hire writers who bring in readers because they are critically well-regarded and then ignore every new idea they bring to the table, especially since you approved of each of those new ideas. But, yeah, screw the bad writers.

As for Dark Reign: The List -- Wolverine, I dug it, as I stated in my CBR review of the issue. It was a fun little action adventure story where Jason Aaron used those Morrison characters well. I don't think he really added anything new or even produced any of those fantastic Morrison lines of dialogue that define each character -- but, most importantly, he didn't do anything wrong. At this point, not completely screwing up a Morrison character is a victory in my book. Are my standards too low?

But, I dug it. Especially Esad Ribic's art, which was absolutely lovely and energetic, obviously influenced by guys like Moebius and Janjetov... I was reminded again and again of The Incal while reading this issue. Even a few panels had Noh-Varr reminding me of John Difool. And since Fantomex comes out of that Franco-Belgiun tradition, I loved that visual style also being represented. How come Ribic doesn't do more interiors? He's great!

TC: I enjoyed Ribic's line art as well, more than his painted work, actually.

I do agree that not screwing up a Morrison character is a victory, but Aaron also followed in the footsteps of what came after Morrison. So he's writing the Morrisonian version of the Bendis version of Marvel Boy, and that's kind of interesting. He didn't just ignore what came before. It's that "include and transcend" philosophy, used wisely, and maybe it doesn't actually get to the "transcend" part, but it's "include and do it right" and that's a hell of a lot better than many Marvel and DC comics these days. Though last week was a particularly strong week for superhero stuff (the newest Detective Comics alone was enough to make it a stellar week), the mass of mainstream superhero comics is floundering in the second half of 2009.

CN: Hmm, I'm not sure I agree with that, but why not save that idea for a future column, leaving our faithful readers hanging? That's right, for the first time ever, the Splash Page has a cliffhanger ending! Oooooh! Lovely.

The Splash Page: Cynicism versus Sincerity? Part 1

[After a short break, Tim and I just couldn't keep away from one another, so we're back with another Splash Page, this time discussing an idea that Tim put forth a week or so back. He explains it pretty well below, so I won't repeat that. Enjoy.]

Tim Callahan: So the other day -- actually, it was a week or two ago -- I commented on one of your CSBG "Random Thoughts" posts and called you out for liking cynical comics more than sincere comics. I don't know exactly what my point was, other than to spark debate, but since I completely forgot to revisit that comment thread until it was too late, I didn't really get the discussion I was looking for. I just dropped a somewhat nonsensical bomb and walked away.

But I suppose my point was, in looking at your list of favorite first issues, that you seem to like first issues that present a kind of cynical view of the world. A kind of story in which things are bad and they look like they're going to get a whole lot worse. As opposed to a story that presents a bad situation but seems to promise some great hope for the future. I termed it sincerity, but I probably should have called it hopefulness.

I'm thinking about your fondness for Warren Ellis comics and your disdain for Geoff Johns comics, and the big difference between the two, it seems to me, is that Ellis presents a cynical worldview through his stories and Johns presents a hopeful one. They both use violence and chaos, but for different thematic purposes. I don't think you can brush it off as, "Ellis is just a better writer," because, well, I won't let you off the hook that easily.

Do you think that anything I'm saying makes sense? Does it seem completely off base, or are you naturally drawn to the more cynical stuff?

Chad Nevett: Sorry, but it has to be said: Ellis is a better writer. Now that I've gotten that out of the way, as I said then, I don't really agree with your take on things, because I don't read Ellis's writing because of its cynicism, I read it because of its optimism, an optimism that feels more real and genuine than what you find in a Geoff Johns comics. Ellis's characters are somewhat bastards who do their best to make the world better, to save it from without and within, not always doing things the 'right' way, but always in with a mind to making sure that tomorrow is better than today. Geoff Johns's books have bastard villains and heroic heroes that don't struggle past personal issues of selfishness and wanting to stay at home but overcoming that to do better. That Johns writes almost all of his work for DC is a big reason for this, while Ellis does creator-owned and Marvel work where you can have more human, more conflicted characters. I'm not interested in a fearless jet pilot who is naturally heroic doing heroic things... that's boring. I'm interested in a chain-smoking bitch who'd rather spend all day getting drunk except that would mean that things would be worse, so she goes out, gets together a group and busts some heads in the name of changing the world for the better -- because no one else is. Ellis's heroes are more heroic because they have to try.

It goes back to this idea that I've always had: if you're naturally honest there's no virtue in telling the truth because it wouldn't occur to you not to tell the truth; but, if your first instinct is to lie, but you make a conscious decision to overcome that instinct and tell the truth, then there's virtue, there's work, there's conflict -- there's drama. Johns's comics lack a sense of drama in their characters, all of whom are either naturally good or naturally evil, and always conform to that standard. His books are black and white, Ellis's are greys...

Now, like I said, that can probably be traced back to the difference between DC and everywhere else, because DC is full of characters that have no internal conflict really. And, yes, before anyone shouts at me, there are exceptions. "Oh, but Johns wrote a Booster Gold book and Booster Gold is totally conflicted like you want!" That I didn't like what I saw of that book simply suggests that we've just scratched the surface of what my problems with Johns are and we shall carry on -- after all, you people like these exchanges to be longer than what we've got so far, right?

TC: But isn't that "chain-smoking bitch" just as much of a one-note character as the "fearless jet pilot"? Does the former really get into areas of grey? Isn't everything still as clear cut -- you know who the heroes are in an Ellis comic, they just act sleazier -- as in a Johns comic?

I'm thinking we need some specific examples here, besides the oblique references to characters and comics. (Not that the references are all that oblique.) But let's take something simple and straightforward from Ellis -- like his Ultimate Galactus trilogy -- and contrast it with Blackest Night. Why do you think the former is better than the latter? Because I know you do!

CN: Well, I read more than one issue of the Ultimate Galactus Trilogy without being unable to read any more... unlike Blackest Night where one issue had me scrambling for q-tips so I could randomly stab at parts of my brain in order to forget the comic I just read (a small exaggeration, of course). But, let's move beyond me just insulting that comic, okay?

One big difference is technical style. Ellis knows how to craft comic pages better than Johns, pure and simple. Ellis may be formulaic in his 'five panel per page, three word balloons per panel' approach, but it's a very good rhythm, one that manages to convey the needed information but also not feel like something you're slogging through. Whereas, Johns overloads his pages with panels and dialogue, a lot of it unnecessary (I don't have any issue in front of me to directly reference), a lot of it just brimming over the top with melodrama. Even beyond that, Johns tries to cram in too many characters and, unlike Morrison in Final Crisis, he doesn't have the skills to juggle that many characters in that many scenes. A lot of the scenes (aka one-off panel appearances) in the first issue of Blackest Night seem like they were put there just so those characters could have a little face time. Going deeper, Ultimate Nightmare is also a horror/superhero comic and, this is less specific, it feels creepier than Blackest Night. Dead superheroes resurrected by magic rings? Not that creepy or scary. Demented, cannibal failed Russia supersoldiers who have been trapped in a secret base for decades? A lot more creepy.

Enough me justifying my views: why is Johns good? I've seen you mention that Adventure Comics is some of his best work ever. Why?

TC: Adventure Comics feels a bit more open than some of his other work. I love his Green Lantern, but except for a few issues early in the run after Green Lantern: Rebirth and before "The Sinestro Corps War" really got up and running, Johns's Green Lantern has been a comic of increased melodrama (in a good way) that becomes a game of, "oh my god, how is he going to top that??!!?" It's about amplification and excess, and it works because he knows how to get the right character beats in amongst all the cosmic bombast, but it's all about making each issue "louder" than the previous one. In Adventure, he's begun slowly -- and I'm just talking about the Superboy parts, not the "Legion of Super-Heroes" backups -- by giving Conner Kent this innocent life in Smallville, a second chance for him to grow into the role of a hero. Johns imbues the comic with earnestness -- this young superhero just wants to make things right, he knows he's got as much Lex Luthor in his DNA as he does Superman DNA, and he is methodically trying to create an environment for himself in which he will grow into the man he wants to be.

That story -- the good man trying to be a better one, knowing the odds are against him -- is much more interesting than the one-millionth iteration of the badass, chain-smoking anti-hero who doesn't play by the rules.

Adventure Comics #3 even plays with the notion of the optimistic hero vs. the cynical one, and presents -- BY FAR -- the best version of Red Robin we've ever seen (which isn't much of a compliment, I know, but it's a really good version here). Part of this series is about Conner connecting with his old friends, and Johns doesn't just throw the old gang back together again as if nothing happened. Conner died and came back, and Johns plays it up as the unsettling, emotionally-confusing situation it is, even while all the characters know that life and death and rebirth is part of the universe in which they live. So when Conner tracks down Tim Drake, now wearing that silly leather cowl in some kind of screwed-up "tribute" to Batman (as pointed out in the issue), there's a real contrast between the two characters -- a reversal of the beginning of their friendship, when Robin was the earnest optimist and Superboy was the badass with the leather and the "cool" hairdo. When Johns has the two meet in Adventure #3, he doesn't play up the pathos, he just gives them a silly villain to "fight" (Funky Flashman, who's easily dispatched by Krypto), and then lets them talk about their situations with sincerity as they investigate a few leads. Leads that Tim Drake thinks might lead to Batman's return, because even in the leather, even with the badass new look, he's still that same optimist he always was.

Yet Johns has proven in his other work that when things go bad for his heroes, they go really bad, and the gruesome violence that exists in Johns's world just helps to make the sweet little character scenes all the sweeter. There's a vulnerability in those kinds of scenes that you just don't see in an Ellis comic.

CN: Can you explain something to me that I've never been able to understand: what does Lex Luthor adding his DNA into Superboy's initial genetic mix actually change -- beyond the likelihood that Conner will go bald? Is Lex Luther so bad that his evilness is passed on genetically or something? I'm not saying that finding that out wouldn't mess you up a little, but isn't there a time where you realize that it changes nothing about what kind of person you are and you just move on? It's always struck me as a very 'comic book/soap opera' idea that this sort of idea would make a person struggle between 'the forces of good and evil' when... no, it wouldn't.

And I have read plenty of sweet scenes in Ellis's comics. The buying back the pawned toy in the "New Scum" story in Transmetropolitan... and, I know there are more, but that I just spent five minutes trying to think of one. Then again, I find the snarky banter between Jackson and Christine in Stormwatch sweet since it's real-sounding. Or, that short story during his short Hellblazer run where John Constantine reflects on his old girlfriends and how he misses them all, even the ones that hate him. Or, the moment between Midnighter and Apollo in the "Shiftships" Authority arc where Apollo is about to try something dangerous and Midnighter just grabs him and says, "But, you'll die." Or, there's the issue of Global Frequency where everything was saved by a lesbian's conception of love. Ellis wrote a comic book where things were saved by love, dammit! It doesn't get more sincere and sweet than that, my friend. If you can't find this in Ellis's work, I don't think you're reading his comics properly. Saved the city from an alien thought virus with love.

[Read the second part on Tim's blog...]

The Splash Page: Batman and Robin #1 and Seaguy #3 (Part II)

[Tim and I continue our discussion of Batman and Robin #1 and Seaguy #3. You can read the first part on Tim's blog!]

Tim Callahan: Since I said "there's very little in the way of subtext" I guess I'd be missing it too, if there were any. But I don't see this comic being about layers of meaning. I see it as a straightforward exploration of a new Batman/Robin dynamic, built on the inversion of the normal roles. It's a chance to tell fresh Batman stories because this Batman is fresh. Dick Grayson has no idea how to be Batman, even with all of his experience as a costumed crimefighter. He's not the crazed vigilante type. Damian is crazed, but not in the way Bruce was. It's as simple as putting those two characters through the wringer by giving them some baddies to fight. Now it's only the first issue, so clearly the stakes will get higher as the series progresses (and the "coming attractions" page at the end was one of the best parts of the issue), but I see this as a more external counterpart to Morrison's internal Batman run.

Seaguy is a mix of both internal and external, but the greatness of that series (besides Cameron Stewart's art, which I might actually enjoy more than Frank Quitely's Batman and Robin art, as I reflect on both issues at this moment) is that the internal stuff is represented through the external. I have a "When Words Collide" column planned that will address Seaguy in more depth, but what Morrison does in that series is to take the subconsciousness and represent it through surface interactions. The Seaguy stuff is the stuff of dreams, the characters and actions the embodiments of hopes and fears, which is basically the core of the superhero genre anyway. Batman and Robin loses that sense because it's too specific. It's too much about these particular characters who live in this particular fictional world, as much as Morrison says he intends to do some kind of David Lynch thing with them. Maybe he will -- maybe the series will ultimately be about these very specific characters regaining their dreamlike roles in the collective unconscious -- but issue #1 doesn't point that way, and I think that's why this comic is slightly disappointing (or as disappointing as a four-and-a-half star comic can be, which is the score I would have given it, too).

Chad Nevett: Actually, four-and-a-half stars is my "objective reviewer" rating. In my more subjective view, I would have gone down to a mere four stars... which is still pretty damn good. Don't get me wrong, I enjoyed the issue quite a bit and my complaint that there isn't as much subtext is a minor one -- but it's also what separates the very good from the great, you know? Batman and Robin #1 was very good, while Seaguy #3 was great. Really just nitpicking.

You mention the "coming attractions" page and that was the only time I actually felt that chill of excitement run through me (okay, the double punch-out of the Toad got me excited). I'm not always a fan of that technique since I've seen it used in the past as an excuse of sorts. "Okay, so this issue wasn't the best, but look at what we've got coming up once we get past all this lame exposition and scene setting!" I didn't get the sense that that's what is happening here, because those four images are very purposeful and work within the context of Morrison's run to this point. The references to his previous work on the book were my favorite parts of the issue... god, have I become some lame continuity nut in micro form, dedicated to Morrison? Damn.

TC: Maybe we're just too entrenched in looking for the layers that it's difficult to appreciate something that's a visceral thrill without much depth. Nah, that's not it -- we both love "Ghost Rider" when its at the level of pure, raunchy fun. We just expect something different from Morrison, I suppose. But then again, you're the one guy left on the internet who's not a big All-Star Superman fanboy, so who knows what you're thinking.

CN: I'm currently thinking about making hot dogs for supper and drinking my coke slushy. And how awesome Queens of the Stone Age are. That's what I'm thinking.

The Splash Page: Final Crisis Aftermath First Issues (Part I)

[The Splash Page is back! And we're discussing DC's Final Crisis Aftermath titles! Read on, people! Read on!]

Chad Nevett: We have returned. Yes, faithful and patient readers, after a short hiatus, Tim and I are back to deliver our unique brand of comic commentary. You have missed us and we're sorry for being gone so long. But, enough of that, let's get to the comics! We thought long and hard about when to return exactly and what to discuss, and, then, it dawned on us that May has seen the release of the first issues to the four Final Crisis Aftermath titles. Four books, all building on ideas introduced by Grant Morrison in Final Crisis? Seems right up our alleys, don't you think? There are four books to discuss, so on with it! Why not kick things off by sharing which of these books you liked and which ones you didn't, Tim? I have a suspicion that our views will be pretty similar, but I may be wrong.

Tim Callahan: I would rank them from best to worst in this order -- based purely on the first issue of each: 1. Dance, 2. Escape, 3. Run! 4. Ink. I liked the concept of Escape the most, but there wasn't quite enough in the first issue -- as far as actual content -- to top Dance, and though I thought the opening to Ink was fine -- and I like the art quite a bit -- Ink not only seemed to take a complete swerve from what we've come to expect from the Tattooed Man based on Final Crisis, but it was like a parody of bad gangsta movies. Because of its cliched dialogue and plot "twists," it has to be the worst, even though I don't really need to see the Human Flame's hairy ass ever again in Run!.

I didn't plan it this way, but I notice that my ranking matches the way I'd rank the writers based on their overall output too. Joe Casey is the best of the bunch, with highlights like Automatic Kafka and Gødland, followed by Ivan Brandon, who has done some nice work here and there and has a pretty good series brewing with Vikings, then Matt Sturges limps along behind, based on his decent-to-mediocre Blue Beetle and House of Mystery work, and then Eric Wallace comes in last purely because I've never read anything by him before so I can't fairly rank him until he proves what he can do.

So it's certainly no surprise that I'd rank the comics the way I did. Better writers write better comics, as obvious as that might sound.

What do you say?

CN: That's pretty much the order in which I'd rank them, too. I may put Run! below Ink, but maybe not... it's more like I'd leave the third spot vacant and have them share the fourth spot. Dance being very good was no surprise, although I sometimes worry about which Joe Casey will show up to a project since he's had his fair share of rather bad comics. I'm glad to see that it's the Casey I fell in love with. Escape really surprised me with how off-beat and compelling it is. Going into these books, I knew I would be buying Dance, had no interest in Run! or Ink and was on the fence with Escape. The preview pages and references to The Prisoner in interviews made me give it a look and I'm glad I did.

When these books were announced, the common opinion seemed to be "Oh, god, why?" (with an exception made for Dance since the team of Joe Casey and ChrisCross is a great one) and do these books really disprove that prejudgment? Run! and Ink certainly don't, but do Dance and Escape offer enough to justify their publishing? There's a certain segment of fandom that seem to think that certain characters don't deserve to star in books, because they're just not 'important' enough. I do think that Dance and Escape deserve publishing by whatever standards I have -- particularly since I don't care what character are in the book so long as the book is good. Is the idea that these characters are too marginal to warrant books a deserved one? Hell, is it smart to launch four mini-series like this at the same time?

TC: It's strange that there's been such a gap between Final Crisis proper and the Aftermath books, but I guess that's because they had to see what Morrison's final script for issue #7 looked like before they started work on what might follow it. I do like the trade dress for the Final Crisis Aftermath comics -- I pulled all four out of my stacks to review them for this column, and they look pretty cool next to each other. And it makes sense to release them now when 2-3 issues of each series will hit before Blackest Night launches. It's a filler mini-event.

With that said, it's far more "filler" than mini-event and there really isn't a need for any of the books. The Super Young Team certainly seemed the most likely to warrant a spin-off, and the Casey/ChrisCross team is a strong one, but why does Nemesis make sense as a Final Crisis Aftermath character? And unless something really unorthodox is done with the Human Flame and the Tattooed Man, we just get these characters who served a narrative purpose in the event book getting center stage when there's really nothing to them. Their comics lend themselves to mediocrity precisely because they are about the Human Flame and the Tattooed Man.

Between the two of us, we reviewed all four issues for CBR, so we probably don't need to get into specifics about each comic and why we liked it or didn't like it, but I do want to talk about Dance and Escape in a bit more detail, because those are worth talking about. And I do have a few big-picture questions, like this one: Do these comics have an obligation to follow the path seemingly outlined by Morrison in Final Crisis, or should the writers impart their own unique voice and direction? (Because Ink seems to mischaracterize the Tattooed Man's world, and Dance seems to portray a different kind of Super Young Team, with different speaking cadences and perhaps motivations. The former felt wrong, the latter felt fine.)

CN: I actually didn't find Casey's version to differ that much, but I also took into account that the team would be changed by Final Crisis. Okay, that's different from Morrison's version, but almost in the way you'd expect Morrison to portray them post-Final Crisis, as a group of characters that aren't satisfied with partying all night. They've gotten a taste of what being a real superhero is like and want more. I think Ink got the Tattooed Man himself right, for the most part, but everyone else wrong. His wife, for example, seemed to have little patience for his villainous ways in Submit, but is highly critical of him now that he's a superhero, while his son is joining a gang? It's like while the Tattooed Man was learning the value of being a hero, his family was somehow getting the opposite message.

[We've got plenty more to say as the column continues at Tim's blog!]

The Splash Page: 2009 Eisner Nominations Part II

[You might not understand everything that follows if you don't read the first part over at Tim Callahan's blog. Not only that, but he provides even more context about this crazy little column that he and I do nearly every week. Except not the next two weeks. Don't look for columns then, because there won't be any.]

Timothy Callahan: I don't know if it really matters. If it's a new creative team and new numbering, then I say let it qualify. But I do find the Marvel numbering system endlessly annoying. I don't mind relaunching with a new volume every few years, but I despise how they go back to the high numbers once it reaches #400 or #500 or whatever.

What about the nominations for "Best Limited Series"? Again, I've read three out of the five: Hellboy: The Crooked Man, Omega the Unknown, and The Twelve. I gave up on Groo about 20 years ago, and though I've heard that Locke & Key is good, I haven't seen it. The three I have read are good, and that Hellboy mini was probably my favorite Hellboy thing ever, and Omega the Unknown was brilliant. I really need to do some kind of essay on that series when I get a chance, because it was one of my favorite comics in the past year, definitely. The Twelve has great Chris Weston art, so that's something, but it isn't much of a story, and it seems to have completely been abandoned for the time being. I wonder if we'll ever see its final issues.

Of course, I thought Final Crisis was one of the best of last year, and I liked Marvel 1985 a lot, even though no one else seemed to. Shockingly, Trinity didn't make the cut. Maybe they're saving that for next year's nominations. (Dear readers, those last two sentences were sarcasm, but the thing with Marvel 1985 wasn't. I can be hard to figure out, I know.)

What do you think about those five nominations? You read Omega, right? But did you check out any of the others at all? Do the nominations make you want to?

Chad Nevett: I've read Omega the Unknown and nothing else. Hellboy is another one of those properties that I've long meant to get into, but just haven't yet. Honestly, the nominations don't make me want to go out and get anything. That's partly my general apathy towards awards and partly the mystifying choices in other nominations. If categories I'm more familiar with make me wonder what the hell they were thinking, my confidence in categories I'm less familiar with isn't exactly high. Given that each year, the judges for the Eisner's is a group of different people, it's hard to actually put much stock in the supposedly prestigious award. For example, how does Ed Brubaker or Todd Klein not warrant nominations despite no noticeable difference in the quality of their work or any general critical consensus that others have risen to overtake them? Is each year of this award its own beast that doesn't actually fit into any sort of continuum of "Eisner Awards?"

TC: That's a good point. We were pretty happy to see CBR nominated, and many of the comics spotlighted deserve to be recognized for their quality, but what does it mean to win an Eisner Award if the judges differ each year? How consistent is the criteria, anyway? It's like the "Best American Comics of ________" anthologies. It's just a collection of what one editor happened to like for that year, and there's almost no consistency from year to year other than "mainstream" comics are not included. With the Eisners, it's a similar problem, helped a bit by having a handful of judges instead of just one, but it's still a problem that it's such a lack of consistency.

Then again, what do any awards for these types of things mean, anyway? And would you want the same five men and women always picking the nominees each year? What if they loved Judd Winick comics?

Questions like these just end up making everything seem meaningless, and I don't think the Eisners are meaningless. They are, for whatever it's worth, the most prestigious awards in the comic book industry. They matter, to some degree at least. So, to that end, I'll highlight a few things that I'm glad they got right (besides All-Star Superman and Omega the Unknown):

I love that Tiny Titans was nominated, and that they didn't ignore Kramers Ergot 7. Kevin Colden's Fishtown got a nod, and that's awesome, and I'm glad to see that Dash Shaw got a nomination for Body World, which will probably end up with greater acclaim one it comes out in a collected edition.

Gabriel Ba is wonderful, and almost all the nominees for "Best Penciller/Inker" deserve the acclaim, and those "Hellboy Library" editions are really nice, indeed.

So as much as the selection process is probably deeply flawed and inconsistent from year to year, at least they got some things right.

CN: Yeah and I don't mean to pick on the Eisner's since all awards suffer from these sorts of problems. The only awards I never disagree with would be ones I give out -- and, even then, ask me what I think of my choices the next day and there's a good chance I'll take issue with the selections. The Eisner's do get a lot of things right and a lot of things wrong, just like every other award on the planet. The thing I like most about awards is the debate they cause. There is no right and wrong ultimately (well, there are in a few obvious places, but you get what I mean), so best not to take these things too seriously. Especially when you're not actually involved as neither of us are beyond a slight connection through CBR. Which does raise the point: can we claim to be Eisner-nominated reviewers now since we work for CBR? Because, if so, I take back all the bad things I've said in this column...

The Splash Page: The Watchmen Movie Part II

[Since I finally saw Watchmen this week, Tim and I decided to arrive late to the party and discuss it. The first part of the discussion can be read on Tim's blog.]

Chad Nevett: Not really, because nothing in it suggests anything but genuine sincerity. It doesn't comment on the tradition of violence in superhero movies or movies in general -- it just continues it. It's not over-the-top enough to make a comment and it's similarily stylised to other modern action movies. Nite-Owl and the Silk Spectre kicking ass in the alley and prison looks like it would fit in fine with other contemporary action movies. There's the odd moment of extreme violence, but mostly just "cool" moves shot in a "cool" way and altered in post-production to look even more "cool." It wasn't realistic, so it can't comment in that way. And, Christ, those constant slo-mo/speed-up effects that Snyder loves so much... I knew they were going to be in the movie, but they still bugged me.

The only way that the violence could be a comment would be the superhuman manner in which all of the non-superhuman characters fight, which is something that happens in action movies all of the time. The regular human that can get his ass beaten for twenty minutes and keep getting up... except, again, there doesn't seem to be a comment here, more just another example of the same old, same old. If anything, it takes some of those feats to more extreme lengths, but does so sincerely. Rorschach doing odd gymnastic moves to break into Moloch's apartment, or jumping through a second floor window, and continuing along as if nothing bothers him. The same sort of stuff shows up in the new Bond movies or Crank. It bothers me here more than anything because, well, I can't separate the movie from the book. Sometimes, I can; others, I can't.

Does this movie disprove Terry Gilliam's claim that Watchmen is unfilmable? On their "House to Astonish" podcast this week, Al Kennedy and Paul O'Brien touched on this with Kennedy saying that, yes, in a technical sense, the movie was made, so it was filmable, but is that what Gilliam was talking about? Wasn't he really saying that it's impossible to make a film version of Watchmen that comes close to the original? It could always be made... if you don't care about the quality. People talk about how faithful the film is to the book, but since we (or, at least, I) think it couldn't replicate the tone and feel of the book, is it really faithful? Personally, I'd rather have a film that changes the plot in an effort to keep the meaning and feel of the book (like Robert Altman's adaptation of Raymond Chandler's The Long Goodbye) than something like Watchmen, which takes the superficial plot points and puts them all in there, but gets the subtext and feel completely wrong.

Timothy Callahan: I do think this movie proves that Watchmen is filmable, not simply because it's actually on film now. It has proven the "filmability" of Watchmen because the movie is frustratingly close to a good movie. It misses a lot of the heart of the graphic novel, but with a better-directed Ozymandias, better old-age makeup and wigs, better pacing and less of the explosive superhero megaviolence, it could have worked, I think. It's almost as if so much work went into the preproduction and postproduction that the actual production, the stuff like acting and getting the physical details right on the day of shooting, was less important to Snyder. And that's where the movie fails -- in that accumulation of details that he just plainly got wrong for this to be a great movie.

I also think that doing this version parodoxically frees Watchmen from ever being faithfully filmed again, but I would expect a remake in 20 years or less. A remake that's made by the next generation of filmmakers who won't make the same mistakes Snyder made, but will almost certainly make their own mistakes. But I'm looking forward to that happening. Not the mistakes, but the remake made with more freedom. There's no need to do the deep focus, superficial attention to superficial detail style of adaptation in the inevitable Watchmen remake. Take the core of the story and spin it at 24 frames per second, I say. Come on, next generation of filmmakers! Start thinking about what you'll do when you get a chance! Reinterpret Watchmen and put your vision up on the screen.

By the way, I'd just like to go on record saying I love the fast-slow-fast approach to fight scenes. It's probably not the best use of it in Watchmen, but it does fit with the overall amped up Snyder style, but in general, that kind of playful approach to time unfolding in the middle of a fight scene absolutely works for me. Anyone who doesn't like it is just a grumpy old fogey. Take that, internet!

Changing the subject back to Ozymandias and Matthew Goode...

Here's something that my local comic shop owner said to me today when I mentioned how wrong Ozymandias was portrayed in the movie. I said that the whole point of Ozymandias -- in the comics -- is that he's supposed to be the peak of human perfection, and he's shown as a super-nice, friendly guy in the series up until the climax. He's not sinister. He's doing what he thinks is for the good of humanity, because he's the only one smart enough to know what's at stake. My LCS guy said, "yeah, but in America we can't ever show someone who's smart AND nice. Think about it." And, yeah, that kind of made me stop and look around at the way genius is portrayed in American popular culture, and it always seems to come with either selfishness, social awkwardness, or pure evil. Smart and nice IS hard to come by in the media, at least in recent times.

What do you make of that observation and how it explains Ozymandias being a sleazy dickhead in the Watchmen movie?

CN: The portrayal of Ozymandias is, actually, the thing I probably hated most. He was a smug douchebag here and, even after saving the world, still seemed like a smug douchebag. Like you said, in the comics, he was a great guy and that's where a lot of the power of seeing his plan comes from: this genuinely nice and caring person choosing to kill so many people to save the world. Some may love Rorschach, but Ozymandias is still my favourite character from Watchmen and, probably, my favourite superhero of all time, if only because he does save the world no matter the cost.

The idea that you can't be smart and nice in America rings true to me. There's a certain fear/hatred of intelligence in the US that I've picked up on. My favourite example of that is a bit that Bill Hicks had about reading a book in a waffle house one night after a show. The waitress comes over and asks "What're you readin' for?" This causes Hicks to pause, because he's never been asked what he was reading 'for.' He's been asked what he's reading, just not what for. (He then adds, to the audience, that he reads probably so he won't end up as a waffle house waitress.) Then, a trucker comes over, stands over him and goes, "Well, looks like we got ourselves a reader." Hicks was mystified as to how reading a book can cause such reactions and so am I. Whatever causes reactions like that, that's why Ozymandias has to be a smug douchebag. I honestly don't understand it.

Beyond that, I think it may also have to do with Ozymandias being the 'villain' of the story. Of course, he's really the hero, with the other characters revealed as small-minded saps who didn't realise that they were trying to stop him from saving the world. Okay, it's more complex than that, but that's how I like to read it. But, is that too nuanced and, well, smart for audiences? I don't think so, but the idea that it could be probably went into his characterisation as well. He's a murderer of innocents! He's inhuman! Yes, he saves the world, but the ends don't justify the means! That the Comedian is presented more sympathetically than Ozymandias is troubling, I will admit.

Or, maybe... maybe, Matthew Goode is just naturally a smug douchebag? I don't know, this my first experience seeing his work. Judging from the rest of the movie, it's obvious that Snyder can't direct actors and seemingly lets them just do what they will, so it's possible that Goode took the character in that direction himself without Snyder meaning him to. But, given Nite-Owl's extremely violent outburst against Ozymandias, I'd guess that Goode did as Snyder intended.

TC: Goode can definitely act. Check out The Lookout when you get a chance. He's a douchebag in that movie, but with a completely different kind of performance.

I think it's safe to say that we found Watchmen, as filtered through Zack Snyder, to be far from perfect, but how does it compare to other superhero movies? Is it even worth ranking it on the list of say Batman and Robin, Superman III, X-Men, and The Dark Knight? I think it's fun to make lists, and I know you do too. So, where do you think this movie belongs? Would it even make your Top 10? By the sound of it, I'm guessing...not so much.

CN: It probably would, only because I haven't seen a lot of superhero movies. I've avoided them in the past for various reasons. The primary one being that I have no interest in seeing another version of these origin stories that I've read twenty million different ways. Another being that I find superheroes look really dumb in real life. Any time I see an actor dressed as Batman walk around, it takes me right out of it, because it just looks ridiculous. But, for the sake of argument, with The Dark Knight and Iron Man at one end, and Batman and Robin at the other, I'd say that I would rank this around Batman Forever, which is towards the negative side, yeah, but has some enjoyable parts. I will say that I plan on getting the deluxe DVD of Watchmen if only to give it a second chance and see what Snyder's "true vision" is. I'm not expecting it to be better. At all. But, who knows, maybe I'll find more to like.

TC: I think the extended cut will be interesting, and I suspect that it may make some of the performances more consistent by placing them in a larger context. Still, there's no excuse for Ozymandias. None.

I'd rank Watchmen as #6 on my all-time comic book superhero movie list, right after X2 and right before Mystery Men. It seems to belong between those two, somehow.

Splash Page: Battle for the Cowl #1 Part I

[After spending so much time discussing Grant Morrison's Batman run, it seemed fitting for Tim and I to take a look at Batman: Battle for the Cowl #1 this week. Gee, will we like it? I don't know...]

Tim Callahan: I have to admit that even though I came home with a big stack of comics on Wednesday (and a Jack Kirby hardcover), the first thing I read -- the thing I ended up being the most eager to read -- was Batman: Battle for the Cowl #1, written and drawn by Tony Daniel. I just couldn't wait to see how Daniel dealt with the post-"R.I.P." post-Final Crisis aftermath. I'm not the biggest fan of Tony Daniel's art, but I certainly didn't go into this book with any negativity. I went into this comic with a completely open mind, and I absolutely...

Well, I'll let you go first. What did you think of it?

Chad Nevett: I also read it first out of all my comics. Unlike you, I went in with all sorts of negativity. Tons of negativity. I went in expecting a comic that can only be described as "godawful." And I was disappointed, because it's just regular old bad. Not very bad, not the hoped-for godawful, just bad. (Oh, and to answer the obvious question of why I would buy a comic I expected to be godawful: for this column.) It's not a good comic. The art is typical Tony Daniel work, which is among some of the better heavily Image-influenced work out there right now, but it's still heavily Image-influenced, so... The writing wasn't nearly as bad as I expected, but it wasn't anything special. A rather mediocre, predictable plot, some moments of odd characterisation (Damian in particular stood out as bearing no connection to previous portrayals), and, really, an utter lack of drama. I was bored reading it, honestly. It didn't make me angry or ready to come online and trash it, it just made me shrug, put it aside and continue on with my other books. I think I'd be a bit harsher if I was a Bat-fan, but since I'm just waiting for June to arrive with Batman and Robin, I can't muster up the energy to care about Battle for the Cowl.

Beyond discussing it with you, of course... What did you think?

TC: I thought the art looked a bit better than it did on "Batman R.I.P." which made me think that he probably rushed to meet deadlines on that title, but he had a little more lead time here so it looked fine. I'm not a fan of the style, but except for a few jarring storytelling moments (like when the Arkham gang is all of a sudden out of the bus from one panel to the next), it was a decent version of that mediocre, post-Jim Lee style of art that some people seem to like.

But I thought the writing was absolutely terrible.

It reminded me of early Todd McFarlane writing, circa Spider-Man. It was all sentence fragments and on-the-nose descriptions. It was like reading Twitter messages from the most inane people imaginable. "This is what I'm doing now. I am doing it."

And though the plot may have been editorially imposed -- I don't know how much of this is actual Tony Daniel's story, and how much this is just connecting the dots established by DC higher-ups -- it's too packed with characters at the expense of story. And it has that Countdown feel to it, too. That feeling of, "oh, Grant Morrison's going to pick up with this new status quo in a few more months, so let's be really obvious about how we're going to get there, step by step."

One of our colleagues at CBR gave it 3 1/2 stars, but I would have given it maybe 1 star. 1 1/2 at the most. It's weak, and the only thing that saves it is the use of the Black Mask (who isn't used well, but I've always liked the Black Mask) and the way the Third Policeman Batman is tearing up the city. At least, I assume it's the third Batman doppelganger from Morrison's run who we see at the end of this first issue. I could be wrong.

CN: I think the solicitation for the third issue says that it's Jason Todd. I thought it was the Third Policeman when I first saw the teaser image for Battle for the Cowl, but, yeah, I remember the solicit saying that it was Jason. I figure if it were the Third Policeman, he'd just keep wearing the same costume from Morrison's run -- although, it's hinted that he may be the new Azrael or something.

I can't believe you hated the writing more than I did! I think we hated it equally or thereabouts, but my low expectations made it seem not quite as bad, while your neutrality made it seem worse. Yeah, it's bad, but it's that workmanlike going from point A to point B sort of writing. I think that because it so utterly lacks in ambition, I can't fault it too much for being so bad, because I don't think Daniel was shooting for anything beyond this (aside from thinking it's good). I don't think he's trying to be anything but obvious in dropping obvious hints and insultingly basic narration. While Todd McFarlane's writing always had a hint of pretention, like he thought he was a great writer, Daniel's work almost screams, "Hey, I know this isn't up there with Morrison, but I'm not trying to be that good! I just want to write an action comic that ends with someone as Batman!" Not good, but it could be worse. I would have probably given it two stars...

One element of the writing that really bothers me is just how messed up Gotham is despite there being so many costumed vigilantes. I get that Batman is the goddamn man and all, but considering he kept the city under control alone, are we to believe that his not being there is having such an impact despite the dozen or so people that have stepped up in his place? Was the terror of the Batman that strong, or is this just a lame attempt to make the idea of Batman more important than it really would be?

TC: And, really, how long has he been gone? He was gone for 12 freakin' months just a couple of years back, and Two-Face totally cleaned up Gotham pretty much on his own during that time. Now, Batman's gone for three hours and the city is overrun by baddies? Yeah, that's silly, but I don't have a problem with it because it's the whole basis for the story. (But it is a silly contrivance, given recent Gotham history.)

[To be continued on Tim's blog!]