Overstimulated, Exhausted Children: Avengers Vs. X-Men #3 Review

EDITOR’S NOTE: This review constitutes a confirmed extinction-level spoiler.

I don’t have kids myself, but many of my former drinking buddies do, which has in turn made me decide I can never have kids. Because I just can’t talk to them. You ever try talking to a little kid, particularly after they’ve had a shitload of candy? Candy you gave them in the hopes they would take it, go away and stop trying to talk to you?

You can’t make any sense of it; they spin wildly from point to point, with no real logical gristle connecting them, with weird exaggerations that beggar belief to hear (“Wait, wait, little Billy… you’re saying Deathstroke rode his pony… sorry, his My Little Pony… to Cybertron? To fight fucking Voldemort? Who plots your shit, Billy? Rob Liefeld?”). After a while, it starts to hurt the mind to keep track of what’s happening and why, because if you stop and think about it for even a minute, it doesn’t make any sense at all.

In that same vein, if I told you that the plot of a story was, “You know what would be cool? If the Avengers battled the X-Men and Phoenix – no, not some redhead in a green body stocking, but the actual giant flaming bird, like the one from Battle of The Planets – on – get this – the fucking moon,” you would think that you were overhearing a schoolyard monologue by some kid who was on the first step of a road that’s started with Ritalin and will eventually end with methamphetamine extract.

Welcome to Avengers Vs. X-Men #4: where every plot point was written with a prefix of, “And you know what else would be cool?” regardless as to whether it makes any Goddamned sense at all.

Avengers Is A Dish Best Served Super Sized

I don’t know if you heard, but there’s an Avengers movie out! You know how I can tell? No, not the big Nikki Frinke articles about the eleventy billon dollar box office or the rumors that Joss Whedon won’t be returning for the sequel or the disturbing knowledge that you can’t drink a Dr. Pepper between now and the release of The Dark Knight Rises without putting your mouth disturbingly close to a picture of The Hulk’s crotch.

No, I know because when I walked into my local comic store, where they know me by name and ask me to remember that just because I call it Mjolnir doesn’t stop it from being felony indecent exposure, I saw at least four comics with the word “Avengers” in their title. There was plain old The Avengers, Avengers Vs. X-Men, Avengers Vs. X-Men: Versus, and Avengers Academy. Next week I will look forward to Avengers Beach Party, Desperate Avengers, and Avengers Jovengers Banana Fana Bovengers.

But that is (theoretically) next week. This week, the fact that I saw that many Avengers books means new comics, which means that this…

…means the end of our broadcast day.

But it’s a sweet looking week for comics. Not only is there a metric plethora of Avengers Vs. X-Men books, but a new Brian K. Vaughn Saga, Garth Ennis Shadow, Jim Lee back on pencils for Justice League, and a bunch of other cool stuff.

But as always, before we review them, first we need time to read them. So for the moment: see you tomorrow, suckers!

When Exposition Is A Four Letter Word – Review Of Deathstroke #9

I must admit I’ve been dragging my heels on this review of Deathstroke #9 all week. I’ve been pretty clear about my feelings on the subject of Rob Liefeld’s take over of Deathstroke. Liefeld certainly has his fans and his detractors. While I wouldn’t go so far as to say I’m in the “I Hate Rob Liefeld” club, we here at the Crisis On Infinite Midlives home office have been more than willing to use Liefeld’s name as an easy punchline, the same way Tim Allen might make grunting noises into a microphone instead of telling an actual joke. But, honestly, in the 90s, if I was looking for ridiculously silly, overblown art, I read The Tick. At least the silly had a purpose in that. Liefeld has never done much for me art wise. However, I’ve never read his actual writing. I’m aware he’s created a number of characters for which such comics luminaries as Alan Moore have written spectacular stories. I mean, he must know what he’s doing if he keeps staying employed in the business and Alan Moore has played in his sandbox, right? Or does he just have some incriminating photos of Bob Harras somewhere?

After reading Deathstroke #9, I’m inclined to believe it’s the latter.

Read all about Deathstroke and his new playdate, Lobo, after the jump!

White People Problems: Mind The Gap #1 Review

I’ve read Mind The Gap #1 three times now, and I don’t yet know how I feel about it. From one angle, it’s a story populated by either thoroughly unlikeable rich-folk or entitled hipster children of privilege, with the only middle ground between the two occupied, literally, by the hired help. From another angle, it’s a competent whodunit with a dozen suspects, a solidly-plotted attention to detail, and a supernatural hook, albeit one that immediately made me think, “Huh… this guy’s read Midnight Nation.”

I’ll start with the single undeniable positive about this comic book: you get one hell of a lot of story for your money. This book is 46 pages of advertisement-free story for $2.99. And those pages introduce no less than twelve primary characters, establish that almost any of the eleven who aren’t the protagonist – slash – victim are possible suspects, and reinforces that if any of them winds up being the assailant and gets the needle for it, the only tragedy will be that the other ten will be allowed to live.

Seriously: these people suck just that much.

Big Dumb Fun. With Pussies: Avenging Spider-Man #7 Review

In a spring season loaded with Batman battling to save Gotham from the Court of Owls, and The Avengers trading punches with the X-Men with the fate of the world hanging in the balance, sometimes Event Fatigue sets in. And sometimes you want a change of pace from the ongoing Superhero Apocalypse, and as you look at your normal alternatives – the Zombie Apocalypse in The Walking Dead or the Zombie Apocalypse in Crossed: Badlands are normally pretty much it – you maybe start wishing for a nice, fun, and maybe a little goofy one-and-done to cleanse the palate as a change of pace.

Or maybe you just have a thing for cats. Maybe your house smells like cat litter and ammoniac urine, the Internet doesn’t give you enough other cats to fill in the gap, and where the rubber hits the road, you’re despondent that you just can’t hug all the cats, despite oodles of free time with which you can pursue this goal thanks to the aforementioned ammoniac smell. Either way, Avenging Spider-Man #7 is the book you’ve been looking for, and between it and Versus, it is living proof that, from the standpoint of just plain fun comics, Kathryn and Stuart Immonen should be allowed to do whatever the fuck they want, ever.

Subculture Shock: Waltham Steampunk City 2012

Didja know that wristwatches were invented by Tiffany, sometime in the early 1900s, and that they are therefore inappropriate for a Victorian steampunk costume? Me neither, until earlier today when I went to the Watch City Festival – AKA Steampunk City – in Waltham, Massachusetts.

We here at Crisis On Infinite Midlives are not Steampunkers, we’re inveterate comics geeks. However, it is Mother’s Day, meaning that Amanda is laboring to make her mom believe she is still worthy of her meager inheritance, and I needed something to do for the afternoon other than go directly to the bar from where I am writing this (I said, “directly”). And since Steampunk City is literally a hop, skip and a jump from the Home Office, I figured I’d take a gander.

Teaser Poster For Sin City 2 Now Out

Did you know that mixing chardonnay, two kinds of beer, some cider, and a 12 year old single malt will result in a vicious hangover? Yeah, I did too. But I did it anyway. So, until it abates and I can write something more coherent than “BLEEEEAAAARGH!”, I offer you this tidbit posted by Bleeding Cool – the first teaser poster for Sin City 2, with director credits for Robert Rodriguez and Frank Miller.

Now I’m going to find some Vicodin and a sauna and go all Marv on this hangover. Later y’all.

Roger Langridge Gonzo From Marvel, DC

If you’re a casual comic book reader, you probably have no idea who Roger Langridge is. Here at the Crisis On Infinite Midlives Home Office, however, we are big fans, mostly due to his work on Boom Studios’ The Muppet Show comic back around 2009, when a Muppets movie revival was only the bulge in Jason Segal’s BVDs, and when reading a comic based on a childhood favorite TV show was a pleasant diversion from our constant morning joint pain.

(Digression before the meat of the story: if you are a Muppet Show fan, you owe it to yourself to find those issues. I don’t know how Langridge did it, but he distilled a visual show with a heavy musical element into a standard comic book, and he captured the tone flawlessly. Disney buying Marvel, meaning Disney suddenly had their own comic publisher for the Muppets and therefore could pull the license from Boom, has been, to us, the biggest tragedy of that merger to date).

Since that book folded, Langridge has been doing some work for Marvel on their John Carter books (See? Goddamned Disney merger fucks up all kinds of shit…), but no more. Following in the footsteps of Chris Roberson and announced, via the Internet, that he will no longer be working for either Marvel or DC due to “individual conscience”:

Everyone Is The Hero Of His Own Story: Stan Lee On Creators’ Rights

History is written by the victors, and Stan Lee is nothing if not a winner.

At least co-creator of Spider-Man, The X-Men and The Avengers and a fistful of other lucrative and profitable properties (as I’m sure they are referred to in the Disney front office), Stan started as a simple editor, moved into writing, somewhere along the line in the 1970s became the head cheerleader for Marvel Comics, both in the comics themselves in his Stan’s Soapbox column and in the mainstream press, and wound up making himself a deal skimming fat bank off of Marvel for not doing much of anything at all… probably because no viable corporation wants their head cheerleader to start yowling “Marvel fucked me without lube!” in the public prints.

So Stan lucked out, put himself into a good negotiating position and Got His. And while I stand by my continuing opinion that any comic creator – hell, any human being – who doesn’t want to get fucked by a major corporation probably should make sure their contract contains an anti-fuckery clause before signing it as opposed to bemoaning it afterwards, I have always wondered how Stan feels about guys like Kirby and Colan and Ditko, who were at the very least in the room when these icons were created, and rather than winding up with cameos in the multimillion dollar movie adaptations instead wound up humping an empty table at Artists’ Alley, a premature coffin, or worst of all, an Ayn Rand novel.

Well, wonder no more… or at least, wonder no more how Stan would kinda deflect the question if he was asked. Because Alex Pappademas did an extended piece that includes a short interview with The Man for Grantland. And that interview includes a question to Stan how he feels about the recent uproar over creators’ rights:

Finally Forward Thinking: Avengers Assemble #3 Review

Editor’s Note: There was an idea to bring together a group of remarkable people, so when we needed them, they could spoil the comics that we never could.

Put as mildly as a foul-mouthed, cynical, long-time drunken comic reader can put it, comic publishers almost never handle the release of a movie based on one of their properties well. Put less mildly and more baldly accurately, they generally seem to take the opportunity such a cross-media exposure provides for attracting new, enthusiastic readers to their comic books to grimly set their jaws, strap on their cleats, and stomp hard on their own dicks.

It happens over and over, so predictably that it might was well be a Cylon plot. The Dark Knight is poised to become the biggest movie of 2008, you say? What a perfect time for DC to kill Batman and put a new guy in the suit! Thor looking to open large? Awesome! Kill him! Iron Man breaking bigger than anyone thought in 2008? Sweet, let’s make him a government bureaucrat! It’s like the front offices of the Big Two, prior to the release of a comic book movie, go days without sleep, subsisting on amphetamines, trying to figure out how to convey to potential new readers, who wander into a comic store to learn more about the character they just fell in love with, that it would be in their best interests to fuck off and just keep right on walking.

So imagine my surprise when Marvel, not five days after the release of Avengers in American theaters, put out an issue of a comic book written and drawn by one of their A-list talent teams that looks like the movie, has the same characters as the movie, that is not only action-packed and imminently accessible to anyone who saw the movie, but also goes about answering one of the key unanswered questions from the movie that I have been asked repeatedly since last Friday: “So, that guy in the scene in the credits… who was that guy, exactly?”