Author: Luke M.

Story and Art by John Byrne

After our intrepid heroes are separated and flung backward through time, they find themselves fighting their way through some of the most brutal periods in human history. The focus of this most recent issue is Tony (who’s stuck in the Civil War-era south), given a chance to exact vengeance on the slave owner responsible for the unspeakable acts of trauma inflicted upon her in previous issues.

The issue opens with some of the most needless exposition I’ve seen in recent comic books. Tony spends much of the first several pages explaining every act she takes, even going so far as to offer open color commentary of every moment in her planned escape. Not narration, mind you: she’s actually speaking out loud.

The absurdity of the dialogue in these opening pages continues unabated as she is joined by the slave-owner’s granddaughter, who has decided to run away from home and joins Tony in her exit. Verity’s dialogue is a different style of frustrating: a stilted southern-speak that – while possibly accurate – comes across as overdone and campy. The addition of Verity to the party does give Tony someone to explain every little movement to, whether that’s a benefit or not.

After a lackluster opening run only slightly absolved by a few interesting twists, I was hoping that John Byrne’s Next Men would be on a path toward redemption. Issue 6 takes a giant step backward. It feels like Byrne couldn’t really figure an intriguing way to get from point A to point B, and just cobbled together a series of random events requiring extensive explanation. His writing is simultaneously insubstantial and heavy-handed, creating a fluff piece that serves no purpose but to lead into an unsatisfying punchline.

Story by Mark Waid
Art by Peter Krause

Irredeemable started as the story of the most powerful hero on Earth gone bad, and the stories of how his companions, his enemies, and the world react and adjust to his shift. The last few issues have taken a turn; a solid fly ball into left field. Issue 25 follows Plutonian and his newfound partner-in-escape as they fight their way through the multi-tiered-super-asylum-in-the-center-of-a-star where they’ve been imprisoned, paired with the story of Qubit and Modeus’s attempts to find where the Vespa have taken him.

The current storyline feels out of place, and this issue maintains that status quo. Modeus spends the first five pages explaining Plutonian’s powers, seemingly spurred by the notion that “No humanoid form of that size… is capable of storing enough energy to do what the Plutonian does.” While an interesting conversation that toes the line between science and fiction, I have to wonder if it was really necessary.

As the two discuss, Tony fights, and we see that the interdimensional sanitarium is filled with creatures easily as powerful as he is. In spite of the explanation of Plutonian’s powers (and his true knowledge of them), I can’t help but feel disappointed that Waid introduced us to this place and its inhabitants. Much of the mystique of Plutonian – everything that made him a unique threat – has either been explained or made commonplace.

It feels like the purpose of Irredeemable #25 was that explanation. While it adds a layer of tension to Tony’s mental state, it doesn’t feel like enough to drive the story forward. Tony, Qubit, Survivor and Modeus’s intersecting storylines are interesting in themselves, but are hampered by the outlandish setting they’ve been placed in. I only hope that Waid can drive the book back up out of the mire into which it seems to be sinking.

Story and art by David Petersen

Mouse Guard: The Black Axe is a prequel tale, telling us the origins of the beloved Celanawe and times long before he became the savior of Lockhaven. Issue two picks up as he and Em, a long lost cousin, travel to Port Sumac to procure travel across the North Sea in search of the legendary – and missing – axe. There they meet Conrad, a boat-mouse of questionable honor, but one whom Celanawe is able to lightly manipulate into bearing them across the unknown free of charge.

Petersen’s dialogue flows easily and gives an unquestionably noble air to his rodent characters, adding depth and richness to the world they occupy. This comes across especially well with Celanawe’s narration: you can envision the aged hero curled in a rocking chair in his twilight years, regaling the younger guard-mice with tales from his youth. The time spent in Port Sumac in this issue is some of the most interesting in the Mouse Guard series, presenting us with this world’s version of a pirate’s cove that comes across as dangerous, but never as seedy as in more human portrayals.

As always, Petersen’s artwork is beautiful, sometimes fitting of a more permanent display than sequential storytelling. Since Petersen creates both the words and the art, it is apparent that he is able to more successfully pair his scripts with his images than most creative teams are capable of. If I have one knock against the book it has to be the lettering. Although stylistically interesting, the script used for Celanawe’s narration is sometimes aggravatingly difficult to read.

All told, The Black Axe #2 is a fun and engrossing continuation to the tale of Celanawe’s history, and I can’t wait to see where he, Em, and Conrad end up after their journey across the North Sea.

In April of 2011, IGN Comics began allowing MyIGN users to submit articles for their weekly review roundup. Any that live up to IGN’s editorial standards are be published alongside IGN’s staff reviews. Any that I write, I’ll post here, whether they get published or not.

This review was published, and included in the April 27th IGN Comics review roundup.

Story by John Rozum
Art by Frazier Irving

Having never read the original run of Xombi in the mid ‘90s, I wasn’t exactly prepared for John Rozum’s particular brand of whack-a-doo adventure. The first issue caught me off guard with its witty dialogue, offbeat humor, and goofball characters.

The second book picks up with David Kim in the grip of a deadly Snow Angel, waiting on a young nun-in-training-with-religious-super-powers named Catholic Girl to save his ass by blowing off his left arm. Not to worry, though: nanotechnology in David’s cells will rebuild the arm by pulling raw materials from his environment.

Rozum’s characterizations and dialogue take a front seat once again, quickly drawing you into a setting and story so absurd that – if handled even slightly incorrectly – could dip into laughably ridiculous. The writing strikes very close to the perfect balance with that absurdity, though, absorbing you into the setting and never dropping the pace. The action beats are fun and the interactions are interesting, driven by comic timing that drew out honest laughter in me more than once.

Frazer Irving’s artwork is a nice compliment to Rozum’s script. His choice of angles does wonders to enhance the dialogue and action, and his facial expressions add that extra bit of punch to the comedic beats. I’m not a fan of the way the book is colored, though: each environment is bathed in its own monotone, which changes occasionally depending on the action to depict specific events. It’s an interesting stylistic choice, but I’d really like to see Irving’s line work with a more natural coloring style.

Xombi is an off-the-wall title for DC, and I hope the series has a healthy run. If you like your books fast-paced and funny, with a heaping dose of weird, give this one a shot.

In April of 2011, IGN Comics began allowing MyIGN users to submit articles for their weekly review roundup. Any that live up to IGN’s editorial standards are be published alongside IGN’s staff reviews. Any that I write, I’ll post here, whether they get published or not.

This review was published, and included in the April 27th IGN Comics review roundup.

Story by Cole Haddon
Art by M.S. Corley

Alternate literary history is a difficult genre to boil down for mass consumption. It’s creators must walk a fine line, conjuring stories that are both referential and understandable. The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen comic books are an example of how to do this well, while the movie version shows us exactly the opposite. The Strange Case of Mr. Hyde, while solidly evocative of the former, never quite finds a firm grip on its appeal.

We open on the familiar story of Dr. Henry Jekyll and his infamous serum, introducing us to the origins of the titular character before skipping ahead five years. The book then takes on the story if its narrator, Scotland Yard Inspector Thomas Adye, as he attempts to unravel the the crimes of Jack The Ripper. Upon finding frightening evidence of a killer with superhuman abilities, Adye (an amalgam of several of the Ripper’s real-life inspectors) realizes he is overwhelmed and seeks the counsel of the secretly imprisoned Jekyll, thought long dead by an ignorant public.

Hyde never finds its pace, becoming bogged down in excessive (if modestly interesting) dialogue. It just plods along, hoping that hooks so obvious as to be laughable (whether intended to mislead or not) will keep readers interested. Although plenty of side references may make the literati chuckle, Haddon’s script never finds an entertaining balance. Unfortunately, Corley’s artwork is similarly flat and uninspired. The final action sequence entirely lacks motion, feeling like a series of poorly posed mannequins and failing to elicit any feelings of tension, even at its climax.

The Strange Case of Mr. Hyde is an interesting concept that’s full of almosts, but misses the mark in almost every way. Fans of this style of alternate literary fiction may find nuggets of interest, but overall it left me completely underwhelmed.