As a teenager in the 90s I ended up seeing Jim Carrey’s movie version of The Mask before Arcudi and Mahnke’s version, and they are two VERY different beasts. This Mask is brutal, violent, horrific, and yes, still very funny at times. In the first story, The Mask turns a poor schlub into a creature that is vicious and violent with incredibly poor impulse control, getting revenge on anyone he thinks has done him wrong. Sounds a little like the movie, but this guy goes WAY too far, and what was first a kind of fun revenge tale starts going horribly, messily wrong.

In the second The Mask turns a loose-cannon police officer into a vigilante, and I found this a little easier to enjoy, but that’s kind of the point: it’s someone doing horrible nasty things to people who are generally horrible and nasty, which is easier to stomach than someone taking revenge to terrible extremes. The action scenes are incredibly violent, verging on gory, but made almost beautiful by the art. It’s really interesting to see early Doug Mahnke’s work after falling in love with his work on Seven Soldiers: Frankenstein which was published over 15 years later. He’s developing as an artist as he draws this series, and it is really cool to see the progression from issue to issue. You can tell that it’s his work based on the lines, action scenes, and facial features, but I think I also see a little Richard Corben influence in it as well. It’s not easy to read, but it’s fun in a twisted way, and the art is teriffic. A must-read for comics fans or for people who want to see the twisted mirror image of the movie romp.

I only read this because I had heard that it was really good to look at, and that the story was good for Mark Millar. I am not a Mark Millar fan; he’s written a number of critically acclaimed books, but I only actually like one of them (Red Son), and most of the rest I actively dislike. I wasn’t holding out much hope for it.

Overall I thought 1985 was interesting, and the art was very good, but I honestly felt let down by the story. Marvel supervillains showing up in the real world in 1985 is a great concept, but I don’t think Millar carried it out that well. Seeing villains be villainous is cool, particularly in a world where there’s nobody that can hold them accountable, but there was just so much of it, and it seemed to be there just for shock value or to show off, so the story kind of stalled as we kept seeing another villain killing, maiming, and destroying. The last 3 issues were good, when the story started winding up, I just wish they had trimmed an issue or two out of the series. I think Millar could have gotten the story done more effectively with less issues and fewer “shocking” moments.

I don’t exactly love The Flash, but I like the supporting Flash cast (Jay Garrick the Golden Age Flash, Max Mercury, Impulse), and I like Grant Morrison (less so Mark Millar), so I picked this up for 50% off and gave it a shot. Overall, it’s not bad. There are a lot of cool moments in here, mostly in two Morrison/Millar-style high-concept stories (a suit who swears revenge on The Flash, The Mirror Master’s mind-bending setup), which were both both very cool. I particularly liked one stand-alone story that gave Jay Garrick a chance to shine. There was one issue that was the last chapter in a three-part story with Green Arrow & Green Lantern, set in a courtroom, that fell really flat for me. I could have done without that issue (or maybe it would have read better if they had collected the Green Lantern and Green Arrow stories that preceded it), but that’s a minor nitpick. Overall this collection didn’t make me fall in love with The Flash, but it’s certainly full of some good superhero stories.

This was interesting. Characters from various different walks of life – and even different worlds – visit a mysterious bar, where the price of a drink is a story from your past. The bar is part of a house, the original House of Mystery, somehow plucked up and removed from its original location. The twist – or one of the twists – is that some of the people at the bar can’t leave. They don’t know why, and it’s never explained; they can go wherever they want within the confines of the house, but they can’t escape. Then, enter a mysterious newcomer, who seems to be intimately familiar with the house…

It’s written by the people who bring you Fables & Jack of Fables, which are some of my favourite comics currently being published, so yeah, I was intrigued. The art was very cool; Luca Rossi’s art kind of reminded me of Justiniano, which is a good thing as far as I’m concerned. Plus, there are some amazing guest artists (Steve Rolston, Jill Thompson, and more), who illustrate the stories that the bar patrons tell. I found some of it a little hard to follow, not knowing exactly who Fig was talking to, or who the mysterious “Collective” was, but otherwise the story was very interesting, and I eventually grew to enjoy the mystery. Looking forward to more tales of mystery and horror in the upcoming editions!

This was a cool little book. I have a weakness for Occult Westerns (yes, there are such things as Occult Westerns), and this one was a lot of fun. It told a three-part story with adventure, mystery, and some great plot twists that I didn’t see coming, some great characters (I love each and every one of the MacGregors), and the art is pretty great too. I found the lettering to be a little small, it might have been nice to have it reprinted with another inch or so of page height and width, but that’s a minor nitpick. Really, all that matters is that there were crazy adventures, horrific battles, and much more humour than I was expecting. I hope there are more High Moon stories coming in the future, because this really whet my appetite.

I had put off reading this for a while, and I’m sorry I dod because, WOW, is it eve good. I know some people didn’t like it – the characters didn’t act the way they’re “supposed to,” it’s too bleak for a Batman story, the Johnny Frost character is supposedly “unnecessary” – but I think those aren’t terribly legitimate complaints. After all, it’s not a Batman story. It’s a Joker story. And a truly chilling story it is, exploring who The Joker really is while keeping his origin a mystery, through the eyes of someone who thinks he gets it – just like we all think we do until it’s too late. The story is strangely familiar, looking at Gotham city through a cracke dmirror: we meet characters we think we know, and it’s fun to re-discover them through Aszarrello’ eyes. The art is BRILLIANT; the disparity between Bermejo’s finished and Mick Gray’s inks is used to great effect to advance the story, and Patricia Mulvihill’s colours are understated but really beautiful. And if you REALLY have a problem with the continuity? Just think of it as an Elseworlds. Or not. The Joker and I don’t care.

I’ve been having a hard time coming up with a cohesive argument about why I didn’t love this book. It’s okay. It’s just not good, and definitely not worth me keeping it in my collection. So I’ve decided to make a list. Here are my problems:

1. I don’t care about almost a third of the characters (Hawkgirl, “Red Arrow,” Red Tornado, Geo-Force). That’s honestly not entirely Meltzer’s fault; he was given the keys to the Justice League, which basically gives you access to all your favourite characters. I think that if I was going to write the Justice League, I would probably have a couple of characters on the team that most people would not get behind. But that doesn’t mean that, just by including them on the team, Meltzer’s favourites automatically become mine. He has to MAKE me like them, through his writing. And in these issues, he doesn’t.

1a. Sub-problem: because Meltzer didn’t make me care about Red Tornado, and because he’s the focus of this first storyline, every bit of pathos that he tries to squeeze out of Red Tornado’s story rings hollow and makes me more frustrated.

2. I cannot STAND everyone calling Red Tornado “Reddy.” And I mean, EVERYONE does it. You’d think Batman or Superman would call him “Tornado” or something.

3. I don’t like the multiple-plotlines-that-eventually-tie-together angle the story takes. This is the Justice League; they get together, they fight, they be awesome. I don’t need six issues of "some people sit around deciding while other people randomly stumble across the major plotlines and somehow they all get together and realize, ‘Gee, maybe we should just team up and fight the badguys’ "

4. It’s not FUN. I mean, really. Justice League should be fun. It can be serious, and thought-provoking, and has been in the past. But it should ALWAYS be fun. It’s your favourite superheroes getting together and kicking ass.

5. It doesn’t feel so much like a story as an excuse to have three or four “big” moments per issue. I have no problem with “big” moments. Some of my favourite parts of comic books are the last page reveals, the “HELLYEAH!” panels where your favourite character does something terribly badass. But with this story, it kind of seems like that’s all there is.

6. Meltzer writes dialogue for a lot of different characters (there are ten different heroes in his Justice League), but they all have pretty much the same voice. And that’s not okay. I don’t think Black Canary’s inner monologue should have the same tone as Superman’s or Red Tornado’s. (Although to be fair to the man: he writes Green Arrow/Green Lantern banter very well.)

7. Too many narrative boxes. Part of Meltzer’s style is to show the characters’ inner thoughts through narrative boxes, and I like hearing their inner thoughts. But often there are so many narrative boxes that it clutters up the page. Comics are the melding of pictures and words, but sometimes Meltzer’s words don’t quite meld smoothly.

8. And, look at this! A non-writing problem! Now, I have no problem with cheesecake art, but Ed Benes’ big shots of the supeheroines tend to be hyper-obvious. Like, to the point that it distracts from the dynamism of the scenes. Again, this is not me putting on my prude hat – I absolutely ADORE Amanda Conner, and she does some DAMN fine superheroines – but while Conner makes it part of the scene, Benes almost shoehorns it in there. It doesn’t always fit, and that’s distracting.

And really? A lot of the problems are the same things that bothered me when I read Identity Crisis, but while I ended up liking that series because of the strength of the story and the characters, this one doesn’t really hold up. I am glad I re-read this story, but ultimately, it’s nothing special. And certainly not anything I need to keep around.

(This is a review of both the original and the re-coloured version of The Killing Joke.)

Initially, I was against the recoloring/re-drawing of The Killing Joke that Brian Bolland did for the new hardcover edition. Bolland wasn’t happy with the original colour and wanted to make it a little more subtle and not as reflective of the time of its creation. “But the colour is PART of it,” I thought. “It’s an artifact of the 80s; the whole point of Joke is that it’s NOT timeless.” But I have to say that, upon reading BOTH versions, I’m torn. On the one hand, I am attached to the old colours, because that’s what I first read. And the garish quality of the original really helps for some of the more intense/insane parts. But the new colours add an important storytelling component, especially in the flashbacks, that I can’t dismiss out of hand. Sure, I may not like the alteration of the Batman symbol, or the tweaks, but in general…I don’t know. I’m keeping both versions, but I don’t know which one I’m going to re-read first.

As for the story? Well, it’s brilliant. Not in the same way as, say, Watchmen or Swamp Thing or even Son of The Demon. But I love the story of The Joker trying to prove that anyone could be as crazy as him, given one bad day. And I love the juxtaposition of Batman and The Joker and Commissioner Gordon. Alan Moore is, of course, the god of comics since the 80s. But Bolland…man. The Joker’s eyes. Batman’s jawline and perpetual frown. Gordon’s gamut of emotions. And some of those Joker reveals, the last panel reveals or the mid-page reveals, they just stop me cold and I have to pause, really take it in before I go on to the next bit. It’s iconic, and brilliant and striking. But maybe just because I know the icons. Anyhow. It’s not just Moore, that’s for sure.

I know Moore doesn’t really think it’s a very good story, and there are other fans who agree it’s just not up to snuff. But what can I say? I’ve been obsessed with those last two pages since I read excerpts of them when I was nine, and I still love them. Can’t deny the power of those last few pages. And the fight scene. And the funhouse ride. So many great moments, the whole is LESS than the sum of its parts. But it’s still really good.

Aside from an initial “HELLYEAH!” moment, I didn’t really care for the “Secret Invasion” event that permeated Marvel Comics in 2008, but the “Sacred Invasion” storyline that it spawned in Incredible Hercules was definitely worth it. It is almost unbelievable that I like Incredible Hercules as much as I do – I had no connection to the Marvel version of the character before this series – but Greg Pak and Fred Van Lente (and the rotating crew of artists) have done an amazing job. I love Herc, I love Amadeus Cho, and I love the situations they get themselves into. Plus, this storyline ties into Alpha Flight, one of the high points of my childhood comics reading. How could I not love it?

This is a tough comic to like. Yeah, a lot of the characters are horrible people, and most of them become even less likeable as the series goes on. But there’s an interesting story here, I think, and it’s definitely being told in an interesting way. Lapham crafts a compelling mystery by giving you just the essential background information, and then fleshing it out with flashbacks in every issue. And just when you think you know what’s led to this point, you get a little more information, and everything’s changed again. The art is solid: turning from mundane to violent to sexy to horrible quickly and with ease. I’m really looking forward to following the strange and twisted direction this series is taking me.