A Shotgun and a Wedding Dress: The Strange Talent of Luther Strode #2 Review

On Friday night, Amanda and I were having a conversation about decompressed storytelling versus old-fashioned serialized storytelling in comics. Because that’s how we roll here at the Crisis On Infinite Midlives Home Office: a little wine, a few lit candles, and deep conversations about the esoterica of comics writing… okay, actually more often it’s shotgunning Buds, arson and screeching, “This book sucks, Lobdell! And that’s why we’re burning down your house!” but we’re trying to expand our horizons.

Anyway, the agreement we came to is that the problem with decompressed “writing for the trade” is that writers are all-too-willing to make the story beats in each individual issue subtle and slowly-unfolding, to the point where in some of those issues almost nothing seems to happen. Whereas serialized storytelling understands that, yes, there may be a larger story that the individual comics issue is serving, but that the issue should be a story in and of itself, with enough of an arc and satisfying action to be worth owning on its own.

And we wholeheartedly agreed that when it comes to regular comics, we vastly prefer serialized storytelling… And further, we agreed that we should leave poor Scott Lobdell alone… at least while Rob Liefeld’s walking around a home that isn’t primarily comprised of cinders and regret.

The one exception to all rules that we agreed existed was the self-contained miniseries. In the spirit of the old “Lady, you knew I was a snake when you picked me up” parable, a miniseries almost by nature must be told in a decompressed manner, because on its face each issue is part of a larger story. It is what it is, and whether you like decompressed storytelling or not, you know what you’re getting with an issue marked, say, “2 of 6”. And then, because we were feeling generous, we gave Liefeld an exception of his own. Mostly because we found we were out of kerosene. But I’m digressing again, which is stupid because there actually is a point to all this yammering.

That point is that The Strange Talent of Luther Strode #2, despite being part of a self-contained miniseries, meets all the needs of a good serialized story, and a damn good one at that.

The Man of Tomorrow, Tomorrow: Action Comics #3 Review

EDITOR’S NOTE: Yes, it’s Superman! Strange visitor from another planet! With spoilers and ruined story notes far beyond those of mortal men!

I was initially skeptical about Grant Morrison’s take on the new early days of Superman in Action Comics – the only attractive thing about an urban hipster blogger with a mad-on for corporations and a Justin Beiber haircut is that when he’s also Superman you won’t do any time if you hit him in his John Lennon glasses with a fucking pipe.

And truthfully, the concept of a Superman who takes on slumlords and capitalists is a wonderful idea, provided it’s 1939 and nobody’s invented Brainiac yet. Even a partially-depowered Superman against, say, a CEO is like deploying a fuel-air bomb against Cookie Monster. As a power fantasy for the unemployed it might be fun, but from a storytelling standpoint, it presents the same problems as a 12 to 2 Red Sox / Brewers blowout: fun, but sure as hell not exciting. Particularly when you stop for a second and realize that you can kill your average American CEO by putting a plate of prime rib at the top of a flight of stairs.

It turns out that Morrison seems to realize this, so in just a couple of issues, we’ve transitioned from Superman as hippie anarchist to Superman as fuckup.

I Never Thought This Would Happen To Me: Red Lanterns #3 Review

EDITOR’S NOTE: This review contains spoilers. It also contains at least three euphemisms for male ejaculation, several vulgar terms for female genitalia, and more than one filthy joke. With the entirety of Red Lanterns #3 being one of those filthy jokes. You have been warned.

I’ve read three issues of DC’s Red Lanterns now, and having done so, I have one obvious question: who hurt you, Peter Milligan?

What was her name? Sit on down, crack open a beer and tell Uncle Rob aaaaallll about that cooze. Get it out of your system. And then maybe you can get back to writing a superhero book that makes some fucking sense.

Red Lanterns #3 opens with a bat chick with big knockers (You remember Bleez, right?) inverted, look of terror on her face while she chokes on thick, viscous liquid, while Atrocitus narrates:

With luck, the pain will be intense.

That’ll mean it’s working. the gelatinous liquids of Ysmault entering her brain.

Sure, Atrocitus. I call mine “Old Sparky,” but “Ysmault” works too, I guess. Seriously, Peter: where’d you salvage that narration from? Your letter to fucking Penthouse?

I Love You, The Check’s In The Mail, and a Marvel Character is Dead: Bucky’s New Book

We’ve talked a lot here at Crisis On Infinite Midlives about the formula of event comics: new costumes, giant battles, and the death of at least one character. Some creator boasting that the event is so big it will “change everything” and will “break the Internet in half” remains optional. For now. Rob Liefeld still has to submissively piddle at the end of each event. Rumor is it’s in his contract, along with the whole “coprophagia” clause. But this is no time to be making up stories about Liefeld, this is serious business. We’re talking about death here.

One of the two big deaths in Marvel’s Fear Itself event was the death of Bucky, Captain America’s old World War II sidekick who took over Cap’s mantle after Steve Rogers was killed in (say it with me!) a big crossover event in 2007. Bucky, who was also killed during World War II, was the victim of the new Red Skull, who tore his arm off… probably at the direct order of Joe Quesada, who figured out that it would probably be a bad idea to have a different guy as Captain America in the comics than in the multi-million dollar blockbuster movie of the same name. He apparently realized this several months after the movie was released, and several years after most of us understood that “Bucky Cap” sounds like euphemism for some kind of French Tickler-type device, but that’s not important right now.

What’s important is that Bucky is dead. He is bereft of life. He rests in peace. His metabolic processes are now history. He’s kicked the bucket. He is an ex-Bucky. And he’s been an ex-Bucky twice. That’s pretty final. Right?

Sure it is. This is Marvel we’re talking about:

No Knife To The Eye – The Goon #36 Review

EDITOR’S NOTE: This review contains spoilers. Such as the fact that burlesque dancers will apparently show off their tits. This review also ruins at least one of the best jokes in the book. Such as how burlesque dancers can sometimes drive men to try to write their names on the elderly. Plus, it spoils earlier Goon stories. Like how Franky has a knife. Which I guess we spoiled with this review’s title. Ah, nuts. 

In 2009, Eric Powell announced Goon Year: a year when he upped his production schedule to once per month to tell the epic tale of The Return of Labrazio, which featured The Goon learning that he was literally doomed to unhappiness, followed by watching the love of his life die while we readers learned of a son that The Goon would never know he had.

It’s 2011. This month’s Goon features Franky wearing a fake moustache while peeing on an old woman’s head.

I love The Goon.

Down At The End of Lonely Street

It is Wednesday, as occurs every week, and as with every other Wednesday, this…

…means the end of our broadcast day.

And if I were you, I might complain, but if you’re a regular reader of Crisis On Infinite Midlives, you too went to the comic store, and therefore also have a new issue of The Goon! Plus Action Comics #3, and The Goon! And the first issue of the rebooted (But Marvel doesn’t reboot! Or publish The Goon!) Uncanny X-Men, not to mention The Goon! Plus a parody of Fear Itself! And the Red Lantern blood shower girl, underneath The Goon! Not to mention new The Goon!

Hard to say what we’re looking most forward to reading, but we must take the time to read them so we can review them for you, and – holy shit! Is that a new issue of The Goon?

See you tomorrow, suckers!

Crisis On Infinite Midlives Podcast Episode 6: The Justice of Winky Von Browneye

It’s, err… a day (We’ve just about given up on a regular schedule for this thing)… which means that it’s time for another exciting episode of the Crisis On Infinite Midlives Podcast!

Brought to you, as always, in crystal-clear Drunkard Digital 2.0 surround sounds (2.1 if Rob burps into the microphone! And you don’t want to know under what circumstances it becomes 2.2!)

Discussed in this week’s program:

• Monthly Comics: Holding The Line at 20 Pages plus House Ads and Shilling for Harley Davidson!
• Looney Tunes, or: The Diagnosis of Super-Villains (Ooh! I vote Tertiary Syphilis!), and:
• Our unreviewed books of the week: Deadpool, Dead Man’s Run, and the conclusion of Spider-Island!

And you can follow along at home with these links, kids!

• Who the hell wrote Astonishing X-Men 43, anyway?
• Our Spaceman Review
• Psychiatrists Call Out DC On Depictions of Mentally Ill
• Putting the Caped Crusader on The Couch
• Batman Villains Psychoanalyzed by Mental Health Experts
• Broadcast Thought
• What the hell is The Psychopath Test?

Podcast: Play in new window | Download (Duration: 45:54 — 42.0MB)

Subscribe: Apple Podcasts | Android | Google Play | Stitcher | TuneIn | RSS | More

As always: wear headphone when listening at work unless you’re tired of your job!

Enjoy the show, suckers!

…Dressed Up With A Lot of Flash and Thunder: The Flash #2 Review

EDITOR’S NOTE: This review may contain spoilers. Or it may just contain my suspicion that “The Speed Force” comes in powdered form. You are warned.

Here’s the first problem I have with Francis Manapul’s and Brian Buccellato’s New 52 reboot of The Flash: it’s not Mike Baron’s and Jackson Guice’s 1987 post-Crisis reboot of The Flash. To me, that book is the definitive reboot.

It put a new guy in the costume. It completely rethought how the powerset worked – to my knowledge, Mike Baron was the first person to make the mental leap that moving at that speed would require a lot of food and sleep to maintain… something he probably extrapolated from his prodigious use of cocaine. In short: it changed everything, and in doing so, it made it fascinating.

So when I read Manapul’s and Buccellato’s Flash, I kept wishing that I was actually reading Baron’s for the first time… and not just because it would mean that I was 17 years old and 175 pounds again. But also because this book, while beautiful, is completely uneven.

Contact Dermatitis

If you’re anything like me, you’re sitting there all a-quiver, wondering who Kim Kardashian dressed up as for Halloween… actually, that’s bullshit. If you’re really anything like me, you’re wondering who was up Kim Kardashian’s dress for Halloween. And how many times she opened the front door and offered a trick. Which actually is something that you don’t probably need to wait until Halloween to wonder.

Well, for good or ill, we here at Crisis on Infinite Midlives have the answer for you (Let’s call that Fair Warning): Kim went out as a famous maneater covered with a virulent infestation of malignant fungal growth! And she did it while dressed as Poison Ivy! Your need for Brain Bleach is after the jump!

Dracula Can Has Cheezburger? Crisis On Infinite Midlives Halloween Theater

It’s Halloween, and that means one thing: blasting your enemies with shaving cream. Or, if you’re from my family and your Mom responds to your request for shaving cream for Halloween shenanigans with a can of Edge gel, dribbling blue-green gack down your forearm while the other kids hose you down with Foamy. My childhood was fucked. But I digress.

Actually, Halloween means horror flicks. And, since this is a comics related Web site, we’ve got a doozy for you, in its glorious entirety: a Toei Animation anime adaptation of Marv Wolfman and Gene Colan’s classic 1970s horror comic The Tomb of Dracula!

You know, provided Marv and Gene had ready access to some primo Afghan hash.

This movie has it all: Dracula! Satan! Aggressive and detailed stonemasonry work! An airport in Boston with parking spaces! And the line that will chill your bones: “Hail Dolores, Pride of Satan!”, which I will be shouting whenever I have an orgasm from here until the end of time.

And, best of all: Dracula eating a cheeseburger.