The Self-Contained Adventures of the SuperFisters
Our theory goes something like this: good stories, ones that people can really enjoy, start with a beginning, experience a middle, and wrap up with an end. Call us crazy, but when a comic book (supplied, we hasten to add, by the awesome kids at Isotope Comics) leaves off that last part, it's hard to come away feeling fulfilled. Such is our lament for The Birthday Riots by Nabiel Kanan, an initially engaging tale about a wistful political aid and his family on the brink of teenage disenchantment. Ten years ago, Max turned his back on his optimistic lefty ideals to take a job working for an up-and-coming member of Parliament. His daughter Natalie feels like he turned his back on her around the same time; as her 15th birthday approaches, she bitterly recalls her own optimism of ten years ago. Meanwhile, the government has adopted a new tough stance against hobos and gypsies, and as tensions rise around them, both Max and Natalie look the the Me-Of-Ten-Years-Ago to decide where they stand.
Sounds great, right? Yeah, we were totally into it up until the last three pages. You know that feeling you get at a movie, where you know the closing song is playing but you're still not satisfied; like nothing's been resolved and the story still hasn't made up its mind what its message is? And you're like, "oh man, if the credits start rolling now, I'm going to be so angry"? Yeah, well ... that. Max's malaise seems to get the best of the entire story; as he comes to realize that he no longer holds any beliefs, he seems to resign himself to inaction. And the plot just sort of drifts away, leaving you with two excellent first acts and a dustjacket.
After the jump: dinosaurs, and a job for Superman.
Doug TenNapel's Creature Tech failed to totally win us over, but he's gotten much closer with Tommysaurus Rex, an easygoing story about a boy who obtains a pet dinosaur and learns a valuable lesson about forgiveness. In contrast to the previously reviewed book, Tommysaurus Rex is such a complete ecosystem it's almost unnerving. Everything that could possibly need closure gets it: the forlorn character Act One fixes a broken heart in Act Three, while the broken heart's owner learns a lesson taught in Act Two, and offers a callback to a line from Act One. It's hard for a story to keep a grip on you when it's gripping itself with such thoroughness, but Tommysaurus Rex is also huge fun, with TenNapel's trademark silly touches like a doofus mayor and a crotchety grandpa. With nearly all its energy being expended on closing all the plot and character arcs, there are few surprises -- the whole story is very by-the-book. But it's a fun book.
How long did you think before we'd get around to reviewing the "Infinite Crisis" books? Every so often, the DC universe gets a little bogged down; all those heros, and villains, and mythical this and galactic that -- pah! It all needs to be grabbed by the hips and shook up and down like an Etch-a-Sketch so that all the extraneous junk can settle away and we can get back to the basics. And holy Mother of Pearl, is there a lot of extraneous junk to sift through. Maybe -- MAYBE -- a non-comics geek could get through the 7-book series if it was annotated. Each page would require several volumes of supplemental materials to explain, "ah, yes, that's Superhero So-and-so, who in the 1994 subplot of such-and-such obtained the power to, I don't know, excrete cheese. And that's why he's just been devoured by mice."
There actually is an excellent story buried under all the cameo appearances and in-jokes: a dispute between parallel universes, and the superheros thereof, over whose universe is the most ligitimate. Our favorite aspect relates to a one parallel Superboy named Connor Kent; he's a little too timid to take up the mantle of heroism and we find that fascinating -- what's up, Connor? What's holding you back? Aren'tcha gonna join in with all the biffing and socking? What's troubling you? And can we give you a hug, because your tortured shyness is incredibly sexy?
Even more than Tommysaurus, Infinite Crisis burdens itself with closing every single concievable story arc to be found in the DC universe -- years and years of them. It's gotten rather crowded, so we'll be glad when the dust settles and the clutter's been cleared away. Simplicity is cool. But for now, we're still in the midst of Spring Cleaning (issue 4 of 7 just came out) which is turning out to be an explosive unpredictable orgy of excess. And that's cool too.