Marvel Graphic novel - Raven Banner, a tale of Asgard

At the beginning of 1983, Marvel editorial contracted Alan ("Alien Legion") Zelenetz to work on "the Mighty Thor". The writer was previously affiliated with the character in a couple of annuals, and the bulk of his short run (#329-336) ended up serving to wrap up the departing writer Doug Moench's plot threads. And while he was dealing with the status of Thor's former lover Jane Foster, the writer was also beginning his collaboration with Charles ("Sandman", "Stardust") Vess on a couple of related side projects.

The duo first collaborated in "Marvel Fanfare 13", on a short story featuring supporting characters Warriors Three. The simple dynamic of splitting the three archetypes before reuniting them again, in order to deal with the quest of finding an Asgaridan poet, worked in a much different way than Zelenetz's main superhero Thor stories. Namely, under Vess' inks, the fairy tale stylings came to the front and contributed to a refreshing diversion. It was a given then that the duo's next collaboration, that Vess colored "Raven Banner" graphic novel, would present the creative team in a much more prominent manner.

Restricted from worrying about Thor continuity, Zelenetz was free to craft his Norse mythology story in a way that could provide him with a unique creative opportunity. With a few exceptions, the Marvel graphic novel imprint on the whole didn't provide for a lot of lasting genre classics, making "the Raven Banner" an interesting curiosity to the modern reader, particularly a Charles Vess fan. Perhaps the shift in the industry, with the new publishers open to embrace the non superhero genre work made Marvel a less sought after home for original work, otherwise it could simply be the case of a non favorable contract, even when compared to the rules governing the company's own "Epic" imprint. In any event, by the end of 1983, in Walt Simonson the company has found a new creative force that finally brought Thor back to the forefront of the industry, with Zelenetz relegated back to writing the character in Annuals, while waiting for Vess to complete the artwork on the graphic novel.

In 1985, the collaboration finally saw print as a 60 oversize page European style album, every bit as striking as Vess' work on "Sandman" and Jeff Smith's "Bone". The chief difference being that those early creatively controlled titles allowed for different interpretations, while even the much lauded Simonson Thor stuck for a large part with the Stan Lee/Jack Kirby interpretation of the mythology. For what it's worth, Zelenetz's idea surpasses the limits of a typical "Tales of Asgard" back-up, and functions as a story in its own right, populated largely by new characters that are inspired by the context of the Norse myth.

Despite the cameos of Thor and the Warriors Three, Balder plays the largest role in the plot, having persuaded Odin to let him accompany the hero in training. The quest itself deals with the prophecy concerning the myth of Raven banner, a flag that guarantees victory to the side that wields it, at the cost of certain death of its immediate bearer. Fittingly, the book opens and closes with the red-hued scenes of battle, that suitably portray the gravity of the proceedings and the the grandeur of Norse mythology. Zelenetz's story starts as a valkyrie take the current wielder of the banner to his warrior's reward in Valhalla, forcing on his son, and her betrothed on the quest of retrieving the flag and ending the giants' siege of Asgard. Yet, despite the valkyrie's urgings, Greyval Grimson is content to enjoy the start of his marriage and leave the glory to his cousin Horskuld, who takes the ways of the warrior much more seriously.

It is only when he meets with Balder the brave that Greyval starts seriously considering the quest after the Raven banner, again only to please his new bride. The reluctant hero starts late on his quest, and overcomes his first foe through trickery and cowardice, but even this is enough to win some of Balder's respect. Unfortunately, the physical model Vess uses for both Greyval and Balder differs very little when it comes to facial features. And while the classically trained artist excels at every turn even this early in his career, his lithe fantasy characters are usually alternating between a limited set of expressions. Reading "the Raven Banner", one can't help but think that Vess' strengths primarily lie in his adequate character designs, clear compositions and beautiful backgrounds, which still convey a very rich and vivid fantasy experience.

Interestingly, both writer and artist seem particularly inspired with the introduction of a third cast member, a comic relief anthropomorphic otter Oddbrand, who takes over the increasingly heroic Greyval's former role and provides welcome comic relief. With lines such as "Oh please, master Greyval, I'm an otter of minimum courage", Zelenetz endears the simple creature to the audience, while never allowing him to undermine the plot.

Truthfully, it is only with the visit to Valhalla, where Greyval meets his brave father, that the pace picks up, and by that moment the reader is already at half point in the book. This necessitates a three page montage designed to show some of the protagonist's exploits that the book simply had no space to showcase in detail (while presenting the reader with Vess' redesign of Hela). The atmospherically paced book only then returns to Horskuld's role in the plot, as Greyval's cousin's own voyage to retrieve the banner takes a surprising turn.   The juxtaposition between the two could have provided a book with a much stronger through-line, but Zelenetz decided against it, well aware of the restrictions both Marvel and Vess' elaborate style placed on the page count.

Likewise, a long running plot involving the trolls really starts to compliment the work in the last third of the book, as they confront both Greyval and Horskuld, who react in very different ways. With Balder's exit, Grimson's hero journey is almost complete, as he confidently takes Oddbrand with him to confront the mysteries of the World Tree. In using the most prominent Norse mythology settings Zelenetz provides for a multitude of  lovely images, but at the cost of the plot that almost uses dream logic to connect these disparate surroundings. For a start, only but the most ardent fans of medieval literature will be taken aback by the copious amount of dialogue spoken in the approximation of the archaic dialect, with frequently only Vess' stunning work to tied them over to a more interesting part of the story.

By its climax, the patient reader is awarded a really uplifting sequence of high fantasy storytelling involving Greyven confronting his cousin for the sake of Raven banner as well as his betrothed's hand. Bringing the valkyrie back into the story as a damsel in distress seems somewhat forced at the start, but Zelenetz succeeds in convincing the reader of the importance of the plot point, given Horskuld's previously established affection for the beautiful warrior woman. The creative team even finds a place for Oddbrand to contribute to the adventure with his own brand of heroics, thus by the time of the final battle with the giants, Vess is allowed to brighten up his palette and depicts a clear victory for the forces of Asgard.

The graphic novel comes full circle, and while the high fantasy theme prevents further elaboration about the mortality of its principal characters, the lack of a deeper psychological depth doesn't really hurt "the Raven Banner". Zelenetz and Vess have ended up crafting a very wholesome and satisfying work breaking from Marvel's tradition of using Norse mythology in superhero stories, and it's certainly doubtful that they would have achieved such a creative success by using Thor as the protagonist.

At the time when Simonson was achieving widespread acclaim in integrating the Norse myth with the Lee-Kirby superhero formula, Zelenetz and Vess have likewise opted to trust their own creative interpretation and produce the best possible work, given the circumstances. Of his own additions to Marvel's "Thor", Zelenetz uses but a map featured in the back of an Annual, a monster defeated in passing and Gullinbursti, Freya's pig that features prominently in the last part of the story. Otherwise, "the Raven Banner" is a completely new story, feeding on the mythology and divorces from the writer's brief association with Thor, except for the fact that his role as the scripter probably enabled Zelenetz to be in the position to pitch the project.

It's easy to say that a reader drawn to the graphic novel because of Vess' contribution would tolerate almost any kind of story, but judging from the finished product, it's clear that the artist enjoyed the experience beyond the possibility of showcasing his work. The creative team collaborated once more, working in the same milieu, when they returned to "Marvel Fanfare" for a four part Warriors Three adventure. This time colored by Elaine Lee, Vess' work looks adequate but is employed to illustrate a much lighter story. Following the structure of their original "Marvel Fanfare" collaboration, Zelenetz puts each of the Warriors Three through the same fairy tale scenario, before reuniting them to combat the threat posed by a postponing of the wedding. Full of modern slang and lighthearted, the story spotlights Thor's three companions and provides some wonderful Vess imagery, but otherwise doesn't try to approach the ambition behind "the Raven Banner".

In a way, returning to the Warriors Three and the start of their collaboration, Zelenetz and Vess have come full circle when it comes to presenting fantasy through Marvel's "Thor" brand. Both have since went on to successful careers outside comics, but "the Raven Banner" definitely marks an early creative highpoint. Even if today it mainly maintains nostalgic value, as a reminder of an earlier, more experimental Marvel, that published graphic novels as a concentrated effort in trying out an European flavored approach to form, the Zelenetz and Vess effort reads like a story in its own right, and not merely a marketing ploy attempted to exploit the character's cross-media popularity. To date, only the pair's Warriors three material has seen been brought back to print, while Greyval Grimson and his much more elaborate adventure has yet to be republished.

Flash v2 #152-159 "the Dark Flash saga"

In 2000, Mark Waid's tenure as the writer on "Flash" was slowly coming to a close. Thanks to a large swath of memorable issues that redefined the character for modern audiences, the superhero scribe used the opportunity to pen such acclaimed series as "Kingdom Come", and he must have felt ready to devote more of his time to new projects. The switch in focus is apparent in the latter part of his work on the Scarlet Speedster, as Grant Morrison and Mark Millar got to script a whole slew of issues, before Waid returned with editor Brian Augustyn as a co-writer. Following "Chain lightning", a space/time epic that extended the Flash family well into the future, the writer had only a single plot element to wrap up before he could leave the series, albeit a major one.

Just before Waid got into the super science that explained how the linage of Silver Age Flash Barry Allen got tangled up with that of Cobolt Blue, and how it impacted the family tree well into the 30th century, the writer slyly took Linda Park away from the series. Thus, all the while the comic showed blockbuster action involving Wally West participating in the most expansive plot since the original Crisis on Infinite Earths, the reader was well aware that the fate of Flash's fiance was purposely left to be resolved at another time.

Memorably, the writer had created a plot that enabled even the characters to forget all about her, furthering the intrigue of how the couple that was about to be married will ever find one another. Of course, this being a Mark Waid Flash comic, the eventual resolution was bound to be smart if complicated, in turn mirroring both his original "Return of Barry Allen" story arc, and acting as the finale of the whole 100 issue run. Adding to the ambition is Waid's decision to have the arc star a new character, introduced in the final pages of "Chain lightning".

The Dark Flash, as the mysterious newcomer has quickly come to be known, presents himself as a stocky, laconic force for good, while never stopping too long to make his identity known. Considering that the late 90ies were well after the initial boom of grim and gritty successors of traditional Marvel and DC heroes, Waid is adamant in presenting a sensible portrayal of a character that is first and foremost efficient, and then brutal. The key difference is that the tone of the story stays largely the same, as the rest of the cast duly notes the new speedster's no nonsense mentality, even as they acknowledge his connection to the Flash family. Dark Flash unmasks to select superhero veterans, both in these pages and in JLA, leaving the reader puzzled as to who it was that just gained the original Flash Jay Garrick's trust. Following "the Return of Barry Allen", a longtime Flash reader is unlikely to think that Waid would even tease the Silver Age Flash's return again, especially considering the finality which he retroactively added to the character's Crisis on Infinite Earths demise. If it was Wally, then why would he act so secretive and so unlike himself, never mind Dark Flash being established as ten years older.

Likewise, Linda's abduction by Abra Kadabra becomes the main subplot that seems bound to provide some answers, albeit in a scenario that is similarly protracted, taking several issues to be completely clear. Following her escape from the longtime Flash villain, the lone Rogue that Waid completely villifies, Linda resurfaces in what looks to be like another reality, where she has been declared dead, leaving the corresponding incarnation of Wally West to take revenge on his enemies and the world in the cruelest ways imaginable. Waid's mystery is carefully planned and seeded, with a solution that makes sense only in superhero comics, with their own blend of pulp, mythology and science fiction.

Meanwhile, Waid and Augustyn use modern Flash's second entry in "the Secret Files and Origins" to set up a completely new antagonist, who once again mirrors Wally West. In a lighthearted tale the supervillain tailor Gumbi's son narrates how he grew up near the Rogues, and how following Dark Flash's fight with Captain Boomerang the young man decides to take revenge. Gumbi does this by gaining the abilities of the Rogues he has idolized since he was the child, transforming himself into Replicant, a supervillain dead bent on beating the Flash. Along with the Folded man, who is presented in the same pages of "Secret Files", Waid and Augustyn were definitely offering a year on Flash that was complete and fun in itself, enabling the writer to leave the title in a big way.

Playing coy, Waid humanizes Dark Flash by having the speedster seek out a romance with new character Angela Marigold, with Linda being remembered only by Impulse, so strong was the magic Kadabra used when he kidnapped her. For a while, Waid was writing both "the Flash" and "Impulse" spin-off, thus enabling the scenes involving Bart in this arc to be very charming and a helpful break from the saga's darkest moments. Angela, on the other hand, with her involvement with the police, bears a certain resemblance to Patty Spivot, a one time Barry Allen love interest (revived in the latest Geoff Johns-penned relaunch), and summarily fills in the role of a superhero girlfriend. Except for some initial spunk, she is all to happy to be romanced and wooed away to distant romantic places by Dark Flash, pointing out that he has rescued her from her loneliness.

That this doesn't exactly jibe with Pelletier's rendition of Angela that sports the genre typical idealized female physique. It is not very believable that a gorgeous woman would be lonely in a workplace filled with men, but perhaps Waid and Augustyn amend this by the Flash's decision to make their time together special in every way. It's important to note how during Waid's stewardship of the title, taking such a simple approach, of embracing all that is positive about the superhero genre, and using it as a center piece for a lighthearted title worked so well coupled with smart storytelling and sound recreation of the character's mythology. When even such a troubled character as the Dark Flash uses superspeed to take his girlfriend to a dinner in Paris, it betrays an innate optimism and inventiveness about the genre, that can only be catching when this well executed.

Meanwhile, Waid has Flash confronting Folded man in a two part story that doesn't outstay its welcome, and enables the character to have a complete adventure before tangling up with the dueling menaces of Replicant and Kadabra. Despite the brevity of the conflict, the story works within to provide a diversion during the larger Dark Flash saga, and present the character as a credible superhero, even if the reader's aware that his tenure won't last beyond the solution of the mystery regarding Wally's disappearance and the return of Linda Park.

As for the story behind the character with the fourth dimensional suit, it's suitably modern to provide a techno thriller diversion, but is quickly set aside as Kadabra's subplot and Dark Flash's identity come to the foreground. It is certainly commendable that Waid provides a reveal relatively early in the arc, as the implications alone maintain the reader's interest into how exactly the switch was made and how and when will Wally return to the title. To say that it's a very unique scenario would be an understatement, but at the end of Waid's run it was more than clear that this was how the writer envisioned the title. Basically, he transformed the book into a team title centered around the concept of the Speedforce, which was unique enough that it enabled the title to weather the industry's hardest period. Ironically, it was well after the grim and gritty excesses and the resultant sensationalistic phase that almost destroyed American superhero industry in mid 90ies that Waid introduced Dark Flash to the title, and structured it as a detective story involving alternate dimensions and magic.

In such a scenario it would be easy to get lost, or even worse, to have the audience reject the title due to boredom and techno babble going over their heads, but Waid somehow remains clear even when dealing with Wally West emerging from the Speedforce to fight his other dimensional counterpart over returning Linda to their own continuity. Unfortunately, this scene is also the one where Paul Pelletier somewhat stumbles, as even with one Flash wearing the hood down there is still a confusion during some of the dialogue, but this seems to be the only instance where storytelling is unclear. The artist works in a house style that is familiar, even if a bit exaggerated, and while completely adequate, it never draws too much attention to itself, the way Mike Wieringo, or even Oscar Jimenez did under Waid's direction.

The reader may well be frustrated that the fight with Kadabre keeps spanning dimensions and the whole concept of the spell that made everyone forget Linda before she ever met Wally following her initial disappearance seems mainly designed as a storytelling challenge that Waid and Augustyn use to keep the spotlight on Dark Flash, while relegating Wally and Linda's actions in the main DC reality to a denouement that works to explain how they rematerialized following the escape from the parallel dimension. That Wally remains active even when off-panel works to set up a very fulfilling moment during the final showdown with the increasingly psychotic Replicant. Namely, for a while Gumbi and Kadabra are joined by Professor Zoom, which works almost as a callback to the very beginning of Waid's work on the title, before the truth behind Thawne's reappearance and his imprisonment of the Flash family gets explained in a very clever way.

In fact, seeing Replicant's breakdown besides Kadabra's turn into a major Flash foe seems somewhat redundant, and particularly displeasing given Gumbi's initial portrayal. Then again, when juggling such a large cast of characters and plots that really needed eight issues to be properly set up and executed, it goes without saying that some of the particularities were always going to be somewhat slighted. Yet, the most controversial part happens at the very end, when Dark Flash's proposes to Angela gets subverted by the JLA declaring the speedster a threat. In itself, this is a great, if poorly set up cliffhanger (Waid assumes that the reader was concurrently reading "JLA" where the character made an appearance) that could have served to remind the Flash family and the reader that the newcomer has a history filled with questionable acts that may not be redeemed through his acting as the Keystone city's champion.

Given the background revealed through the Kadabra subplot, such a twist would be sudden, but consistent with the story so far. Instead, Waid  posits the problem around Hypertime, a "Kingdom" concept that was controversial at the time, and since abandoned. Basically, following the Crisis on Infinite Earths, DC has tries to do away with the parallel Earths that featured different characters (and different version of familiar characters) that the editorial felt confused new readers. Yet, the otherwise heavy focus on superhero fantasy, and even history of the genre continually lead fans to bemoan the lack of storytelling possibilities, and just plain disagree with the continuity implants used to explain the inconsistencies. When it came to fans who went on to became writers, all of their favorites were up for re-visitation if a sympathetic editor was to be found.

In Brian Augustyn, whose love for the character and the place "Flash" occupied in a market over-saturated with derivative books, Waid found a collaborator that understood his desire to utilize the full extent of the colorful genre. Thus, the use of Hypertime as a way to explain the need for Dark Flash to leave the mainstream DC universe seems very abrupt to a longtime reader, that has seen at least two major recalibrations of the continuity since. In any event, what's important is that the Superman's speech boils down to Dark Flash having to leave Angela and Keystone city as we know it, considering that his very presence is a threat to reality. Despite an instance of a character calling Jay Garrick Jack in the previous issue, Dark Flash hasn't affected any previous changes to reality, but it's understandable that on top of everything else that was going on during the conflict with Kadabra, Waid and Augustyn decided to leave that particular wrinkle to his final issue.

Much more importantly, the co-writers use provide a complete story in #159, using it as an opportunity to show the effects on the arc on the two couples, Dark Flash and Angela, as they try to come to grips with the separation, as well as Wally and Linda, who are trying to repeat the wedding that was sabotaged by Kadabra. The shotgun wedding proves to be a reaction to what they've both learned about the new Flash's background, and while Waid says goodbye to the characters with an appropriate send off, the other pair of wanna-be newlyweds fairs much worse. Dark Flash's frustration with losing Angela culminates in an ending that quickly changes from heartbreaking to weirdly metatextual. That Waid uses Hypertime to come to a very particular reality is one thing, but to have Dark Flash himself actually experience some kind of closure regarding Angela seems strangely inappropriate to anyone but the reader most charitable towards Waid.

Despite the epilogue, the reader would be unfair if they called "the Dark Flash saga" anything but a fitting end to Waid's run. If anything, the writer had by 2000 endeared the reader to the concept of Flash being a character with a very unique power, that he has went to great lengths to justify as scientifically possible, as well as providing a home for all of the characters connected to him. That the book was effectively taken over by Geoff Johns following several months of fill-ins (by Brian Augustyn among others), who countered with a particularly strong tenure of his own, speaks to the high quality that DC maintained with the brand for more then fifteen years. And while Johns has since advanced to became one of the company's publishers, the Flash entered a particularly infamous period. Following the reinvention of the title as a solo Bart Allen book, the property was returned to Mark Waid for a short run that met with lukewarm response from the fan base, before Johns again took to the book. For many readers, "the Dark Flash saga" remains a true ending to the writer's involvement with the character, the reasons for which are clear when taking into account the strong, competent work produced in concert with Brian Augustyn and Paul Pelletier.

XIII Mystery #2 - Irina

Following up on the first XIII spin-off volume, Mongoose, Dargaud published "Irina" in the october of 2009. Done as the collaboration between veteran writer Eric ("Song of the Stryges") Corbeyran and artist Philippe ("Pin-up) Berthet, the second episode had a much harder task. Considering that the title character is showed up in the other half of the series, as Mongoose's lover and a trained killer who XIII disfigures, the creative team had a very unenviable task before them.

How does one expand an extremely unsympathetic supporting character's story into something gripping and interesting? As a starting point, Corbeyran takes Irina's relationship with Jessica Martin, another late addition, that ended up being co-star for several of the last XIII volumes. The character's bisexuality seemed somewhat forced when it appeared in the main title, and could arguably have been considered a shortcut to update the series into something edgier and more contemporary, but here it provides a key to understanding the character, along with the Eastern European milieu.

Similar to Mongoose, the follow up XIII Mystery volume takes place during the Cold war, this time from the point of view of KGB. And while tying up the series into concrete dates somewhat complicates the status of the continuation of the regular XIII title (considering that XIII should by now by all accounts be a middle aged man well past his prime), the historical context was always one of the main features of the title, and one can hardly fault Corbeyran for finding the inspiration in USSR wet works. The story is framed around a sequence that precedes Irina's role in the Vance and Van Hamme XIII volumes which is clear from the context. Likewise, the album tells a complete story that is entirely accessible to the new readers, especially considering that Irina herself was hardly developed during the parent series albums.

Similar to "Mongoose", the story covers her formative years, starting out in Belarus, when she was 16, and dating back to the horrible event that scarred her life. An incident in the orphanage involving the death of her best friend permanently impresses itself on the young girl's psyche, causing her to obsess over it to the point of literally subjecting everything in her life to the goal of finding the alleged perpetrator of the crime. Following the girl's escape, KGB agents get on her trail and act out on her ruthlessness by offering her to join the organization.

Corbreyan's script is continually narrated by Irina, which manages to puncture her emotional detachment and reveal the bitter humanity behind the gorgeous features. Berthet is given a task to alter between several designs, given Irina's role as the spy, as well as the changes she undergoes throughout the years. It's difficult to judge the consistency of design given the rapid jumps in the story, especially considering that even her final look differs from William Vance's version, considering that he portrayed a more unbalanced and physically scarred woman, which is difficult to connect with the more typically beautiful and understated Irina of XIII mystery, who only seems to come to life in the action scenes, where the focus shifts from her green eyes to the applying of KGB's brutal training.

On XIII Mystery, Berthet opts for a very paired down and classical style, featuring clear layouts and easily recognizable characters, with pages that are dynamic and easy to follow. Yet, the economy of his figure based style, coupled with Dominique David's use of sharp browns and grays, leaves a strange impression. Despite the traditional nine panel oversized format of a European comic album, Philippe's work almost invites to a smaller and denser presentation, with something like a manga digest perhaps being best suited for his work. His work filtered through David's cold colors even reminds of comics formatted for mobile devices. It is certainly in contrast with Vance's labored and detailed style, but despite the craftsmanship involved, seems very much in tune with Irina's quiet melancholy, leaving the reader with a sense of detachment.

Perhaps it's only fitting that the audience should warm up to the protagonist only so much, considering that despite Corbeyran's elaboration of Irina's motivation, she still chooses the role of a trained assassin to get close to the man whom he blames for her childhood's friend's death. The writer doesn't mince words, and he portrays USSR as a poverty stricken military dictatorship, that proceeds to make a monster out of Irina in order for her to survive and get back at her enemy. Her physicality defines each of her executions, as Corbeyran goes one step further then a typical "Nikita"-like narrative, and depicts her seductions as routinely involving sex, and not just the tease, as is typical with the media that employs such modern day femme fatale tropes.

Irina is equally adept at both seducing and killing men that KGB points her towards, but her heart is only in the steps that lead to the eventual capture of her prey. The brief moments of intimacy usually involve women, and even then largely involve manipulation on some level. Otherwise, she maintains complete control of herself, and basically sleepwalks through her assignments while she makes her play to officer that abused her friend.

The resultant story is as cold and efficient as Irina herself, but it still ends up with plenty of distractions. For all the work done in working on the protagonist's appearance, the resultant body type still seems uneven, as Berthet eventually endows her with a body type that simply seems too buxom, particularly given Vance's original design for the character. Likewise, the object of her search is depicted as on the model handsome officer, with little visible signs of aging, which is certainly not a deliberate creative choice, but a clear oversight on the part of the artist. Despite the presence of wrinkles, the elusive KGB officer looks somewhat close to his age only in the very last scene, where he finally confronts Irina on her own terms.

Most commendably, Corbeyran closes of the volume with a flashback depicting young Julia's death in a way that challenges Irina's motivation, and adds a sense of ambiguity to her single minded pursuit. Otherwise, the subplot involving Jessica feels somewhat slighted and mostly exploits the emotional foundation between the relationship of Irina and her orphan friend, that continues to define the protagonist, leading to a logical extrapolation regarding her sexuality. Otherwise, Corbeyran does little more then set up Jessica's role in the wider XIII story, with most of the pages given the two lovers being ultimately plot oriented.

Mongoose likewise appears late in the story, but he at least impacts directly on it, which cannot be said for Colonel Amos, whose role is little more than an extended cameo that could have been used to bring closure to the other most important relationship in Irina's life, that of her and her KGB husband. Colonel Wladimir Svetlanov is presented as a fairly complex figure, a company man who arranges marriage with Irina in order to further his own interests, which bring her closer to the officer that she blames for Julia's death. The complex dynamic between the two characters is somewhat cut short as Corbeyran arranges the Colonel to help her get to America, where she starts receiving orders from another father figure. That the familiar elements of Van Hamme and Vance's XIII eventually take over the story come as no surprise, as Mystery is primarily designed as a series of prequels by different creative teams, and the volume certainly contains a regular the resolution that climaxes the plot, enabling it to work as a story in its own right, its just that it feels like a misstep not to return to a very interesting dynamic that gave a little color to the otherwise familiar revenge story.

Another missed opportunity can be seen in abandoning the angle of Irina's attraction to her quarry, as some of her narration at one point hints that she finds him attractive. This is an angle that could have made the story of a woman as a spy more unique in itself, but Corbeyran ultimately decides to use it to realize the tension in their final confrontation, providing a definite mix of sex and death to the volume that features copious amounts of both.

It should be noted that "Irina" containts two very brutal torture scenes involving female body that serve to justify the protagonist's hatred toward the KGB officer that robbed her off her friend and her childhood, which might seem logical, but still strike the reader unprepared. As for the sexual content, it feels very subdued, despite being graphic. The creators opt to depict sex as the weakness on the part of the characters, but even then they shy away from using it as fan service. For what it's worth, Corbeyra and Berthet's take on XIII Mystery contains about as much exploitative poses as a typical genre representative (with the exception of a hotel room fight that deliberately goes overboard on cheesecake, and thus stands apart in what can hardly be called a light hearted story). For the most part, the creators maintain an even depiction of sex and violence as basically being tools of trade of a damaged woman, exploited by the intelligence agency. Irina goes through with it as long as it furthers her own agenda, but as soon as her relationship with her superiors changes, she chooses to go her own way, which naturally means taking her place as a XIII supporting character, which is how she first came to the attention of the audience.

Red Skull - Incarnate 1-5

Along with Joe Johnston's summer blockbuster "Captain America - First Avenger", Marvel launched a slew of mini-series. Hidden among them was Greg Pak and Mirko Colak's "Red Skull - Incarnate", a project that was the spiritual successor to the writer's previous "Magneto - Testament" mini-series. Pak and Garmine di Giandomenico's 2008 effort garnered some acclaim as an unorthodox Marvel mini-series, exploring the plight of Jews in World War II through the lens of the X-Men's premiere antagonist.

In "Red Skull", Pak sets out to do the same, by writing a well researched period piece looking at the pre-World War II Germany, albeit centered on Captain America's chief villain. On one hand, the Red Skull's lack of superpowers naturally leads to a story without the supernatural elements that come with the mutant metaphor. Yet, where Schmidt differs from Magneto is in that he's a very over the top villain without the benefit of Chris Claremont's measured characterization.

On the face of it, there is a clear need for a somewhat more measured Red Skull story, given the heavy push that Marvel gave Captain America in the face of the movie. It's all the more commendable that the editorial saw fit to support Pak's version, as the writer sidesteps the typical problems by simply focusing on Johann before he became Red Skull, in turn creating a piece of historical fiction that is both accessible and informative.

Editor Warren Simmons, who recruited Carmine di Giandomenico to illustrate "Magneto - Testament" has long since left the company, paving the way for penciller/inker's subsequent engagement on "All-Winners Squad - Band of heroes" (the book that was unceremoniously cancelled after the fifth issue of the projected eight). Despite both "All-Winners Squad" and "Red Skull" being edited by Alejandro Arbona, the original series' assistant editor decided to support Mirko Colak as the penciller on Pak's follow up project, breaking with the painted, European-style look of the 2008 mini.

The change is more then noticeable, as the two minis otherwise act as parallels, and even crossover at one point. "Incarnate" follows the same five issue format, where each episode takes place at least a year apart, as the protagonist slowly comes of age in a time of great turmoil for the German republic. The chief problem inherent in following Red Skull's point of view at any point but from his childhood would have been accessibility. Magneto as a prosecuted boy is inherently a more sympathetic character, while watching young Schmidt come into his own as a psychopath could have been a hideous experience. That Pak manages a nuanced portrayal, one that makes the reader actually care for, and even try to understand Johann speaks for the quality of the characterization, as well as Colak's propensity for drawing children as believable characters.

Young Red Skull is realized as a child with a pageboy haircut, whose dark brown hair rounds out his head in a way that both differentiates him from his friends, and even hints at the man he will one day become. Likewise, Pak could have chosen to simply use the more sensible Dieter as the protagonist, which would both enable him with a real narrator, as well as a device through which the reader gets to know Skull by proxy, which was the technique used by Derf in "My friend Dahmer". Pak bravely sidesteps such narrative crutch and persist in simply using Dieter as a link to Johann's humanity, or simpler, with their bond being the closest thing to a family that two boys share.

Interestingly, where Magneto goes through the horrible ordeal with his whole family, as well as his Gipsy girlfriend, Johann has a much different experience. Chiefly, despite the poverty, he stays in Germany throughout, with the conflict being which side he will chose, or more realistically, how he ended up with the Nazis being his only option. Pak covers a swath of years that lead the country through several governments and great economical and sociopolitical changes, in most issues devoting a single page that narratives some of the key historical points, but the main ideas remain clear.

Even the reader who is largely uninformed of the pre-war history will be able to follow the clash between German left and right, and the rise of extremism. That Johann spends the drab twenties looking for a father figure seems like an obvious plot, but Pak executes it in such a way so as to refrain from the easy choices. The hard, even intentionally cruel man he looks up to still want to teach him a lesson, albeit in the child's eyes it continually boils down to the conflict between the weak and strong.

Considering how easily the subject matter lends itself to cliches, it's commendable that Pak finds realism in simply drawing out the conflict, and letting real world events set the pace. Matthew Wilson's shaded browns violently punctured by reds likewise seem like an afterthought, and certainly have little in common with Matt Hollingsworth's rich blues and purples, that added the painterly feeling to "Magneto". The distinction is notable as the subdued hues over Colak's pencils create a completely different visual. Mirko is a traditional comic book artist in a way that he solidly composes his panels, having his characters act through carefully studied anatomy instead of Giandomenico's exaggerated expressionism.

The effect is a much more subdued and carefully posed work, with clear layouts carrying over the storytelling without the direct effectiveness of Giandomenico's work. As for the crossover, it consists of a scene in the penultimate issue that is completely logical given the context of the story and doesn't in any way penalize the reader who is not familiar with "Testament". Moreover, having made his holocaust story, Pak puts the Jews front and center only in the book's second episode, as a family tries to care for Schmidt as an orphan child find on the streets of Berlin. Of course, throughout the story there is no question that the Jews are constant victims of Nazi's bullying, it's just that the writer opts to present a wider take on the mania that lead Germany to invade Poland and the horrible excesses that followed.

Johann is shown to be bullied child who endears himself to the family through a mix of desperation and trickery, with Pak depicting his actions as stemming out of the survivor's instinct. Despite the blood on his hands, the writer maintains that a ten year old Schmidt is not defined by a malevolent streak, which is at this point still mostly a defense mechanism. Yet, he is continually being shown society in which there is no place for kindness, symbolized by his Jewish caretaker, and more importantly, where there is no direct reward for his own acts of humanity and caring.

In contrast, violence offers an easy answer, and hardens an orphan at a time of depression, where the society slowly devolves into barbarism, paralleling and empowering the growth of a young boy's darkest impulses. The space available to creators helps the story foundation from becoming too simple, and the time frame further contributes to a believable psychological make up that at the same time looks up to authority and seeks to destroy it.

The Skull's chief two impulses thus end up his desire to act like an adult and protect the people he cares about, while still trying to find an authority capable of withstanding his hate and nihilism. His repeated desire to destroy his mentors, whether they be a teacher at the school for wayward children, the local mobster, and eventually the Nazi leaders (culminating in his plot to kill Hitler), speaks out not for the evil in him, but for a world view of a child driven to madness through the collapse of society and the traditional role models.

The realization somewhat falters in the crowded scenes, as the abundance of figures goes contrary to Colak's carefully posed work. It's not that the scenes don't carry out the necessary actions in clear terms, as well as the period clothing, but that the backgrounds still suffer from the need to complete pages in a set amount of time. Colak is simply too young to adopt to Marvel's pace in a way that even his hurried lines maintain the style without sacrificing the quality to improvisation.

Otherwise, a motif of red borders for panels bursting with violence sometimes lead to the unintended effect of scenes seeming like they take the place in the protagonist's head, with the change of coloring seeming very abrupt and unnecessary. Colak's work is distinctive and brutal enough that there is no real need to saturate it in such heavy reds, where the whole series could simply have worked with a more creative choice than Wilson's familiar overreliance on the red.

Perhaps most emblematic of the writer's approach is the way in which he portrays Schmidt's association with the Nazi party. Where a lesser writer would simply jump at the opportunity to marry Johann's obsession with knives and violence into making him a perfect member of the party from the time he could read, Greg Pak chooses to return his school friend into the story. Dieter's presence goes beyond the need to complicate the story for the sake of tying into requisite real world events, once again bringing out the man in Johann and seeing how much he has changed in the intervening years.

At first, Johann is shown murdering a Nazi who was blackmailing his gangster boss, with the young man still weighing his allegiance in the forthcoming battle between the Socialists and the Nazis. As Hitler seizes power, Dieter ends up imprisoned with communists at Dachau, with Johann proceeding to work for the meanest boss around, the Nazi party. As the plot moves to 1933, Colak ages the character believably, with Johann both taller and more confidant, hiding his pageboy haircut with a uniform cap.

Tellingly, the cap falls down in the moment where he squares off against the SS, continuing his love/hate relationship with the authorities. At this point, Schmidt is still the outcast and though his superiors recognize the ruthless streak in him, they still manage to beat it out. He reacts the only way he's thought, by plotting their deaths, and proceeding to carry the insult all the way to Hitler himself. Dieter decides to join in, but it's quickly apparent that Johann's politics are a mess of personal injury and sick ambition, as he sabotages his own plan at first sight of absolute power, as exemplified by the presence of the Nazi leader and the actions of his bodyguards.

As his petty plan breaks down, and instinct takes over, the balding young man is finally confronted by someone who recognizes the cruelty behind his reaction, and simply accepts it. It seems that only by standing on the side of Reich's architect and supreme leader Schmidt finally feels secure, and part of something that is strong and durable. It goes without saying that this is where the series ends, as Red Skull sacrifices his childhood and friendship for the privilege of meting out violence and being protected from life's harsh repercussions.

Everything that follows could be said to deal with Captain America, whose complete absence legitimizes the story. The reader knows that Johann Schmidt eventually becomes Red Skull, but if not for David Aja's striking, propaganda style covers, as well as some of the symbolism pointing towards Jack Kirby's design incorporated into Colak's layouts, the story reads like a little boy's plunge into the negativity that his nation unleashed upon the whole world, which has nothing to do with superheroes. Simply put, Marvel's predecessor published a propaganda American comic during World War II, but Greg Pak and Mirko Colak choose to revisit the pre war years from a historical perspective.

Thankfully, the assistant editor of "Magneto - Testament" saw fit to help its follow-up came into being as an unassuming movie tie-in mini-series, yet despite the creators' success it is very doubtful that another similar venture will be forthcoming any time soon. Alejandro Arabona, former assistant editor to Marvel's EIC Axel Alonso no longer works for the company, as its currently restructuring to further concentrate on their most successful superhero properties. The cancellation of the aforementioned "All-Winner Squad" mini-series after five published issues currently serves as the signifier of the trend that will likely lead to the lack of tolerance when it comes to projects that are primarily a labor of love for the talent involved. In a certain way, the reader has gotten to see both sides to Pak's vision of the conflict that has come to define the 20th century, and hopefully Marvel will keep both books in print long enough to help them connect to the audience that may have missed them at the time of the original serial publication.

Adieu Brindavoine

Before establishing himself as a versatile author either by the pulp adventures of "Adela Blanc-Sec", or the more serious efforts dealing with the war and human condition, Jacques ("It was the War of the Trenches") Tardi tried out his hand with "Adieu Brindavoine", a complete narrative in the style of Herge. Published in 1974 by Casterman, the pre WW1 adventure story was later fitted with an epilogue and linked to the "Adele" series of books, with Brindavoine joining the cast after the fourth album. Clearly, by then Tardi was feeling assured by the success of his new series, which explains the presence of several of the antagonists of "Arctic Marauder" in the climax of Adele's fourth adventure.

The eventual reprint of "Adieu Brindavoine" must have brought Tardi a belated sense of satisfaction, but despite the addition of the somber epilogue, the book still reads differently then the "Adele" cycle. Sure enough, the very beginning, with the mysterious caller coming to a detailed early 20th century mansion, filled to the brim with period objects, feels exactly like his most famous work, but what follows the exposition is markedly different. The elderly Basile Zarkhov encountering Brindavoine's model in full theatrical gear feels delightfully strange and oft-kilter, while his proposition to young Lucien seems as unlikely as the "Flash Gordon" inspired caller's immediate demise. Yet, the abruptness of the introduction imbues enough energy and directness into the plot that the reader feels engaged to stick with Brindavoine as he tries his luck in the Middle East.

Even at this stage in his career, Tardi's boards were meticulously detailed, albeit with a looser inking line, and fewer panels on the page, leading to a more natural and faster paced read then his later comics. Getting to the streets of Istanbul, Tardi uses most of the two pages to slowly zoom in on his arriving protagonist. Starting out with the establishing shots, the writer/artist follows Lucien's walk through the city streets, managing to incorporate some of the landmarks of the Turkey's largest city while never crowding out the page or slowing the plot down to a crawl.

The designated color scheme of reds and browns feels perfectly suited to the subject matter, and Tardi's style feels completely wholesale and integrated, whether depicting down on their luck journeyman, the detailed architecture that surrounds them, or the complicated machinery that they use to travel. Despite 44 pages probably being more than enough to tell a pretty straight forward adventure story, the writer/artists opts for a leisurely pace, deliberately leaving the elements of the plot in a strange balance.

On one hand, this means that even Oswald Carpleasure, the co-protagonist ends up being a delightfully hammy caricature of a bored colonialist Englishman, where there was clearly more then enough space to develop the character into a slightly better realized figure. Interestingly, Tardi is content to leave the moral ambiguity to Brindavoine, who emerges as the only realistic character, to the detriment of the rest of the cast, particularly the bizarre criminals seated in the Iron city.

On the other hand, it's very easy to explain away these kind of details given Tardi's artistic background and training in fine arts. Simply put, he approaches each of the panels as a completely realized sketch for a more expansive illustration, all the while never losing the continuity of the page. The Herge influence is perhaps most apparent in scene transitions, as he employs the device of the characters proclaiming surprise right before the reader turns the page to identify the reason of their sudden nervousness.

Other than this most direct of the story techniques that "Adieu Brindavoine" shares with "Tintin", the rest are present at an instinctive level, as any kind of Franco-Belgian comics narrative that stars a young man going to a different country on the chase of adventure operates from Herge's elaboration of Golden age storytelling. Yet, Tardi's characters speak in a much more natural way and their Middle Eastern adventure is much less meandering then those of Tintin and Haddock.

To show such a mastery of the form at such an early age, and not to receive the audience's attention justifies the talented creator's efforts to get Casterman to move the volume back into print, otherwise it's doubtful that it would still be debated, forty years after it's initial publication.

With the remote desert setting of "Adieu Brindavoine", the writer/artist actually always has a choice of blanking out backgrounds to concentrate on the figures. Again, that he uses it solely during the skirmishes in the desert, and later on, in the fights taking place behind closed doors in Iron city, goes to show the thinking that went behind each of the choices made during the production of the album. The action sequences are perennial fast reads, and additional background details are typically justified only when they are specifically needed for the fight, otherwise they slow down pacing in much the same way as the advent of unnecessary and unnatural sounding dialogue during the proceedings.

For such a commercial offering, with a couple of very long action pieces along several shorter ones, the overall tone is very strange. Tardi details all the equipment, with particularly vibrant vehicles always clearly posed on the page, likewise the weapons being appropriately threatening despite their antique make, yet a note of pervasive cruelty, and the protagonist's ambiguous approach hinting some of the themes the writer/artist will elaborate elsewhere, starting with the epilogue.

Starting with the opening set in France, Lucien is depicted as someone who is a victim of violence, an adventure seeker that doesn't want to hurt anybody and is actually mostly searching for himself, albeit in dangerous terraine, as a part of what eventually reveals itself as another's horrible plan. Given his defensiveness, the cruelty of his enemies seems that much more stubborn and pervasive, and one can hardly think of a more mischievous gallery of characters then ones offered by Tardi here.

After the initial terror fostered by a black assassin, who gleefully and demonically metes out nightmarish punishment, Tardi chooses Olga Vogelgesang as the direct antagonist, leading Brindavoine and Oswald to Iron city. The choice of a crazed German seems deliberate given the proximity of Great War, revealing the intelligence behind the employment of pulp tropes, but this still doesn't prepare the reader for the helter skelter feel of the last act. Simply put, following Lucien's expertly rendered nightmare and the sequence leading to his awakening in the Iron City, Tardi introduces the master plotter behind Zarkhov's mission, and it turns out a very puzzling choice.

It takes an expert stylist to creatively justify the use of intelligent apes and horribly disfigured villains in an otherwise relatively realistic scenario, and it's hard to say that Tardi accomplishes what he sets out to do. In this aspect, "Adele Blanc-Sec" works much better, as the whole work is stylized in such a way that the cast of mad scientists and assorted esotheria lends itself to a variety of strange phenomena, whereas "Adieu Brindavoine" climaxes in a very rushed ending that introduces character after character, each over the top and plotting demise of the other. The cumulative effect is still very problematic, as it breaks from the previously established tone and goes for the high camp, only to emerge back to the somewhat more internal narrative at the very end.

Unfortunately, despite the powerful ending sequence introducing the misguided Brindavoine to World War I, it's hard to imagine the series succeeding as Tardi envisioned it. Utilizing Herge's approach of featuring expressive characters in the dynamic adventures filled with well realized backgrounds, Jacques Tardi simply hasn't brought enough of his own identity and ideas when it came to developing "Adieu Brindavoine". In itself, the album is above average, in fact fairly entertaining and endearing, but despite the considerable technical prowess behind it, it treats the reader to a familiar story.

Thankfully, the epilogue, "La Fleur au Fusil" ("The Flower in the Rifle") hints in a different direction, as it puts the writer/artist's thoughts on Great War center stage. Considering the strength of an offering like Tardi's "It was the War of the Trenches", it becomes clear that the album is all the better for its inclusion. Starting out with an acquaintance of Lucien recounting his last days and the tragic conditions he ended his life in, it's clear that the reader won't be treated to another adventure story, and that the ten following pages aim for a completely different effect.

In many ways, Brindavoine's service shows him the war as seen by Celine and Remarque, as well as Tardi's own grandfather. The reader reconnects with Lucien just several months after the events of "Adieu", but Tardi offers a completely different character. Brindavoine's short hair and previously gaunt stature seems downright sickly and poised for short and messy death, the fate that his companion shares in the opening of the flashback. As the grenade bursts towards Lucien carrying his wounded friend, Tardi illustrates it as a typical comic book special effect, represented chiefly by bright colors and bold type face. What separates the writer/artist's work is the expressionism that the senseless death carries, as Brindavoine emerges from the smoke painted in water colors before coming to grips with the situation.

This short sequence of only four panels makes all the difference even from the rich, if somewhat minimalist  longer story that preceded it. Brindavoine suffers a nervous breakdown right after, which turns the story to another flashback, followed by a long dream sequence depicted with a powerful surrealistic streak. Tardi feels so confident in his abilities that he goes to show his protagonist remembering a brief idyll at the start of the war in Russia (exhibiting the last of his "Adieu Brindavoine" self), followed by scenes of his recruitment before the disillusionment fully set in. These somewhat typical flashbacks are quickly set aside, as the writer/artist links them to his protagonist's earliest happy memory of playing a soldier for his parents' sake, before confronting his last patriotic feelings in a scene that borders on operatic.

To see Brindavoine find solace in a church with other deserters, making friends with the German that the French company proceeds to murder from behind upon entering the premises, exhibits a much more complex worldview then that shown by having Olga Vogelgesang as the antagonist beforehand. Thus, like millions of young men sharing his fate in the Great War, Tardi has his protagonist come of age in a way that damages him for life. Lucien is too smart to accept the reasons given for war and the behavior proposed by military as a way of coping with it, but at the same time powerless to stop the conflict, which in many ways rounds him out as the man cynical enough to confront Adele Blanc-Sec on even ground.

With the addition of "The Flower in the Rifle" epilogue, Tardi felt he could use Brindavoine to help revive Adele from the cryogenic sleep she was put to at the conclusion of "Mummies on Parade". The writer/artist felt that the Great War was no place for a female lead, deciding to preserve her adventures for its aftermath, where she could be joined by his other adventurer, whose colorful youth was cut short by the conflict. Simply put, Tardi's strong feelings on the matter benefited bringing together both of his serials, and contributed to the form by producing some of the most passionate comics art on the subject.

"Adieu Brindavoine", a very interesting piece of genre fiction that ended up serving as a prequel to "Adele Blanc-Sec" was serialized in America in the pages of "Cheval Noir" anthology #24-28, with the English translation of "The Flower in the Rifle" epilogue appearing in the 29th issue of Dark Horse's anthology.

Moon Knight v6 #1-7 "The Kingpin of Los Angeles"

In a time when Marvel books are routinely underperforming, with a wide swath of cancellations affecting the lower tier titles, it’s doubtful what kind of future a title like “Moon Knight” has. Similar to their persistence with Black Panther, whom Marvel have tried everything to keep publishing for the last ten years, Moon Knight sticks to the pattern of volume after volume of new number ones, new creative teams, rejiggerings and a general feeling that the company is really behind the title, and would like it to suceed, no matter the logistic problems involved.

Therefore, employing Brian Bendis and Alex Maleev, the creative team behind a highly acclaimed run on “Daredevil”, and getting them to try and make sense of Moon Knight was a sound decision. In this day and age, such high profile launches are practically unheard of, with Marvel hesitant to keep the high profile A-rate earning pencillers on the art chores of low selling series for very long. Yet, at least for the time being, “Moon Knight” will be kept in the same configuration past its introductory arc, continuing the stance that the character could be as valuable to the company as Daredevil.

In the past, Marvel have tried a variety of approaches, with all of them to some degree following the basic premise of having a psychotic Batman-like superhero with a complicated operation designed to take down the most extreme of everyday threats. The writers were adamant to respect the continuity that came before them, while offering an accessible title with a special flavor. Typically, and starting with Bill Sienkiewicz, the company employed strong artists, but somewhere in the execution, actual stories usually felt uneven, not able to really carve out their own niche, and generally meandered through strange plotlines usually involving mysticism and hyper violence.

Despite all this, modern Marvel seems unable give up on the concept for the time being, despite the character lacking the appeal of the Punisher, or at least the novelty value of Ghost Rider, both of whom have proven valuable to the company outside of the publishing line. With Black Panther, it’s somewhat easier to understand the Marvel’s stance, as the character is by and large the first black superhero, a Kirby original capable of supporting different types of stories, while still operating from a simple functional foundation. Moon Knight has none of these things, and is at best the publisher’s most dangerous vigilante, whose psychosis the company is trying to turn into a selling point without the traditional appeal of colorful villains or a set-up truly unique to him.

In fact, when it comes to his continuing adventures, the company has always been content to head on without a concrete plan. In recent years this meant sticking with the title for a few meandering arcs before yet another cancellation. The Charlie Huston reinvention, trying to update Moon Knight’s operation for a new audience still felt too claustrophobic to catch on, leading to more extensive tie-in with the company’s event crossovers. The character was subsequently relaunched under Rick Remender into an even more Batman-like status quo, which Marvel quickly shied away from, trying to commit to a more thorough revisioning, perhaps the last one before putting Moon Knight to rest until the audience actually starts to miss him.

What Bendis and Maleev propose is a reading of a character as yet another Marvel superhero, integrated in the Marvel universe as a perpetual outsider, inspired by his past as a member of the West Coast Avengers. Thus, his new series is easily grasped by the new reader, as it transports Moon Knight to Los Angeles and a different status quo, where he starts forming a new supporting cast, without any real references to previous continuity. In fact, the creative team routinely comments on the action movie set up of the series’ original incarnation, today a distant past that a very Matthew McConaughey looking Marc Spector is trying to franchise as a TV series.

Clearly, both Bendis and Maleev are fans of the Doug Moench and Bill Sienkiewicz issues, and the parody is only meant as a tongue in cheek tribute. Alex Maleev particularly seems to work in a style that is a more articulate Siekniewicz homage, lending itself more to the feeling of an ongoing Marvel monthly series, while still retaining the chaotic beauty of the original. At the same time, Bendis is substituting each of Moon Knight’s classical neo noir tropes with a detail that would be somewhat more accessible to the fans of the company’s regular superhero titles. Clearly, the writer feels that getting the focus back on New York and Central Park (featured in the fight between Spector and his brother at the beginning of the character’s first ongoing), would be a mistake. Instead, Bendis seeks to avoid turning the title into something too closely akin to “Daredevil”, twisting the premise almost until it breaks.

Now a resident of LA, Spector is cognizant that any kind of superhero work in Marvel universe still works in relation to it’s mainstay Avengers members, leading to perhaps the greatest change in the series, that of substituting his regular alter egos with that of Captain America, Spider-Man and Wolverine. Clearly, this is a huge and very controversial decision, as the original Moon Knight more or less managed to be stay completely away from the dynamics of a superhero universe, (withstanding a fill in issue starring Daredevil and Jester), except for a Werewolf by night two-parter that made sense given the character’s origins. Bendis and Maleev’s outdo even the Tony Isabella written Moon Knight, that featured a nebulous crossover with Spider-Man and Gold Bug, before receiving assistance from Dr Strange to get a better sense of the Egyptian mysticism that haunts him.

Bendis is very aggressive in forcing the subsequent interpretations nods to the broader Marvel universe continuity into the new foundation of the character, one that is completely defined by his status as a C-lister that has stuck around the Avengers. It is a very strange take, dismissing with Khonshu and traditional flirting with the occult, to focus on what at first seems a very random series of circumstances, where Spector even impersonates two well known Marvel characters to further his own investigation.

The basic idea is that Moon Knight leaves New York to fight crime in an environment where he will basically be a hero in his own right, which makes sense on one level but completely fails on another. In Moench and Sienkiewicz’s hands, it didn’t matter that Moon Knight was just another in a series of vigilantes covering the same ground, as for the purposes of his series, he was the city’s only defender. For the duration of their run, the reader was getting the creators’ best, with the wider Marvel universe back drop alluded to, but never at the sake of upsetting the series’ own rhythm.

As long as he is in the shadow of better and more successful superheroes, Bendis posits that Spector is unable to get over his self-defeating personality and the mercenary past. As the long standing writer of "the Avengers", Bendis' solution is to tie the series into his other two ongoing team books, and force Moon Knight to present himself in the better light, so as not be looked won by the more experienced heroes. The cumulative effect is not that of a spin-off, but something akin to "Alias" tying in with his and Maleev's "Daredevil" work. The company's head writer has steadily built up the inter title continuity of his work for the publisher, thereby his featuring Avengers foe Ultron so heavily in the opening issues of "Moon Knight" works to get the attention of the broader audience that he's been teasing the "Ultron war" story arc for at least a year and a half.

Despite his success, the writer is regularly criticized for creating better stories when working on a solo title (as evidenced by his run on “Ultimate Spider-Man” that has been continually published since 2000), with his work on team books regularly coming into question despite the strong sales it has been enjoying for years on end. Bendis and his editors seem to be hoping that once the initial hook of the Avengers tie-in plays out, the readers will stick around for Moon Knight’s more traditional solo adventures.

Yet, by introducing Spider-Man, Captain America and Wolverine as colorful aspects of Spector’s troubled mind, there to debate each of his more complex decisions, as well as positing a long standing Avengers villain as the character’s new arch enemy, it’s clear that at least a semblance of an Avengers spin-off will stay around in his and Maleev’s work, however long the duo may actually turn out to work on the title.

Further complicating things is the addition of Echo, the Joe Quesada and David Mack created vigilante, that Bendis has continued to use outside of “Daredevil”. Serving as almost a more sympathetic version of Elektra, Maya Lopez was even a member of New Avengers during Bendis’ original team, before she fell on the wayside during one of the many reshufflings of the roster (with the actual fight against Elektra marking her last notable appearance). Yet, for all of the good will in giving prominence to newly created Marvel characters such as the Hood and Marvel Boy, Echo wound up being particularly ill-served, introduced as Ronin in a widely ridiculed ploy. Due to fan speculation, Bendis replaced Daredevil with Maya, making the big reveal of the new character’s identity turn out to be deaf vigilante wearing the male body suit, instead of the original idea involving Matt Murdock.

The Ronin controversy aside, Bendis persists in bringing Spector and Maya together, with their disabilities and ex Avengers status to connect them. Again, it’s a very unorthodox choice, but introducing it in the series from the start forces the readers to consider it, especially taking into account the craft behind it.

Simply put, where Bendis actually draws inspiration from isn’t his “Avengers” work, or even “Daredevil” for that matter, but “Jinx” and the creator owned titles that brought him to industry’s forefront, which makes all the difference. Using unusual double page layouts, and vertical panels that commonly feature repeated panels may seem common place to his fans, but seeing these techniques employed on the outside, and in the process of trying to build an entertaining Moon Knight series, creates a very solid new superhero title.

Unlike Maleev’s instantly affecting work filled with gritty details and very characteristic heavy inking, Bendis’ story at first seems meandering and non traditional, but when read as a complete unit, it works as more than the sum of it’s parts. The leasurely pacing and long dialogues attribute hugely to developing new characters, such as Buck the former SHIELD agent (consciously integrating Moon Knight even further into the Marvel universe) that quickly starts having his own identity resists type casting. Thus, Spector’s new technical consultant on the Legends of the Khonshu TV show feels uneasy about his role of moonlighting as Moon Knight’s back up, taking a realistically long time in getting used to the vigilante’s operation.

Likewise, Echo actively rejects the role of a girlfriend and damsel in distress that Marlene previously played. After the faliure of Bendis and Maleev’s long teased "Spider Woman" series, Bendis must be completely aware that Maya would not be capable of supporting anything but the shortest of limited series in today’s market, and considering Marvel’s recent cancelled of their last books starring female leads, perhaps having Echo play such a strong and self determined role in “Moon Knight” might not be a worst case scenario.

In a way, the title’s traditional focus on supporting cast elevates the series to almost an ensemble piece, which it would be if Moon Knight and Spector were one and the same. Such as it is, the book is definitely a solo title, that despite the semblance of reality sticks to the familiar superhero cliches. Therefore, Buck fakes going along with the villain's plan to gain their confidence, the up and coming kingpin obliterates his goons when they fail him after interrupting Echo and Mark's date, with Maya even introduced posing as an erotic dancer, a hoary old cliche that keeps reappearing in genre fiction. Yet, the little touches of humanity, like Echo phoning Carol Danvers to ask her opinion about dating Spector recall the best moments of "Alias" and the Jessica Jones and Ant-Man relationship depicted there.

Throughout Matthew Wilson's relentlessly grim coloring helps carry over the neo noir atmosphere, but fails in restoring clarity to Maleev's inks that routinely lead to a lot of confusion when it comes to the fight scenes, which flow in complete chaos of overbearing lines whenever there are more than two combatants involved. The artist's rendition of Mister Hyde likewise seems bland and uninteresting. The design used in the duo's "Daredevil" run was likewise very primal and savage, but the addition of the cape and shorter cape makes it too generic and uninspired. Hyde's role in introducing Ultron's body to the story could have been played by any villain, which feels like a misstep considering the much more inspired redesigns of the rest of the antagonists.

Despite the odds stacked against Moon Knight and the visual stylings that seem almost tailored made for a horror book, Bendis maintains a tone that forgoes the brooding insanity of the character’s previous darkest moments to have Spector at least try and function by focusing on the positive emotions. Remender and Opena’s previous take on the character helped smoothen out the transition, considering that Moon Knight’s optimism was a major concern during the Heroic age relaunch.

The idea of the main character striving for positivity without a clean bill of mental health on one level recalls the major post Shadowland relaunch, that of Mark Waid’s “Daredevil”. And where that book seems to be getting all the praise and accolades denied the lukewarmly received Bendis and Maleev’s new title, it’s still no reason to ignore the perpetually slighted Crescent Crusader. Perhaps part of the problem is that Daredevil is simply a better executed concept than Moon Knight, with Frank Miller’s run serving as a much better blueprint for dark anti hero storytelling than Moench and Sienkiewicz work, or the readers have simply already seen Bendis and Maleev working in a very similar configuration. In 2011, Waid working with Paulo Riviera and Marcos Martin seems a breath of fresh air, precisely due to the abandonment of the grim and gritty aesthetic, no matter how well executed, for a more retro modern style.

Bendis seems certainly writing a somewhat lighter story than the one Maleev is illustrating, and the readers have seen time and again, most recently on "Spider Woman". What Bendis is doing is actually 

giving the readers a close approximation of what an intelligent, innovatively directed Moon Knight TV series might have looked like, if the producers ended up greenlighting the 2006 proposal. Waid and Riviera seem content to present their work as a classical Marvel comic, integrating the techniques that would work in no other medium, and presenting a very unique experience down to the lettering. On the other hand, Maleev is working with models with the captionless and dialogue-heavy script diverting attention from some the traditional stiff posing inherent with the approach. 

Taking into account “Torso” and other work he both scripted and illustrated, it’s clear to see why Bendis has such an affinity for artists such as Maleev and Micheal (“Alias”, “Manhunter”) Gaydos. They have the talent and the ability to produce the exact kind of work he was striving for when he was still a full time cartoonist. 

Maintaining the kind of layout that carries over his dialogue in the most natural way actually enables Bendis to have such a strong creative voice and command over his comics. When employed in his prolific work set in the shared superhero universe, this technique is exactly what irritates the long standing Marvel fans. In "Moon Knight", Bendis avoids the common complaint of all of his characters speaking in a similar cadence, by maintaining a strong individualistic streak in Marc Spector.

The vigilante spends most of his time obsession with taking down the up and coming LA kingpin, and proving himself to the superhero community symbolized by the Avengers. Yet, unlike Daredevil, he is not above admitting his failings, that extravagantly manifest in the scenes of his consulting with the Spider-Man, Captain America and Wolverine parts of his personality. The character tries his best to ignore the psychosis, but the execution falls short of the supremely demented supernatural excess personified by Charlie Huston's Khonshu. Bendis' troubled protagonist tries his best to drown out the voices of the Avengers, while enlisting allies to help with the plan of using the head of a deactivated Ultron robot to locate and confront the LA’s new leader of the underworld. 

When it comes to the underlings of this elusive figure, the writer employs a wide variety of 1980s Marvel villains, redesigned by Maleev to better play the part of believable henchmen. The book treats the obscure super villains as characters in the story first and foremost, with their previous pasts regarded to plot lines in the other writers books from more then two decades ago. Snapdragon, a beyond the obscure character plays the role of the kingpin’s lieutenant, working out of a brothel and exhibiting both fighting skills and the connections needed to help her recruit muscle to oppose Moon Knight and Echo. In place of standard bodyguards, Bendis places the Night Shift. The West Coast Avengers foes receive extravagant Maleev redesigns that liven up the proceedings. 

Foregoing the usual cacophony of shouted names of the bit players fighting for space during the fight, the writer spotlights Tick Tock, a more intelligent member with interesting superpowers, that still ends up living up to his unceremonious name.When it comes to the actual villain that seeks Ultron’s head to further his plans, his identity is perhaps the one element of marketing Marvel specifically designed to play up as a secret. The immensely powerful figure is actually shown in more detail each time, before actually saying his name in the final part of the arc. By that time, a long time reader had every opportunity to recognize the flamboyant design, which makes for one time that a character reveal was executed in a way that actually makes sense. The character has seen a broad use in Silver Age and has since continually appeared in the wide variety of the more typical superhero stories, yet the fact that he’s new to Moon Knight once again maintains that the uninitiated reader won’t be penalized due to their lack of encyclopedic knowledge of Marvel continuity.

The conflict itself is drawn out, with large portions of the story given to subplots concerning Echo and Buck’s gradual acceptance of the much flawed Spector into their lives, but Bendis finds a way to tie all of the plot threads into the character’s plan to confront Snapdragon and forcing her benefactor out of hiding. The Ultron’s head is used strictly as a McGuffin in these pages, but will no doubt have some wider implications on the upcoming Ultron war “Avengers” storyline.

Having proven himself as a hero in his own right, and forcing his adversary to a temporary retreat, Moon Knight has made his debut in LA a successful one. Despite the presence of a traditional police detective whose disdain for the recent outbreak of superhero violence in LA will no doubt have further consequences, Spector is at present left with a much more direct problem with Echo having stumbled upon one of his secrets. The final scene is not really a cliffhanger per se, as it expands on Maya’s supporting role in the confrontation with the criminal organization, teasing the forthcoming drama in the duo’s unlikely romantic dynamic.

Hopefully, a dedicated audience and the editorial’s continued support for having such a distinctive team of creators working on the low selling book means that Bendis’ and Maleev’s story will be brought to it’s natural point of conclusion. It would be a shame if such an above average book didn’t manage to last a year in the Direct Market, fueling the decision that the company should stay away from their less commercial titles. At the moment, the possibility of equaling the success of DC’s line wide relaunch with Marvel titles starring lesser known heroes seems beyond even the most skilled of the company’s creators. The forthcoming months will no doubt force some of the readers to return to their traditional reading habits, but for now it seems that the massive promotion their competitors have granted their entire line of superhero titles seems impossible to replicate on a smaller case. It seems a missed opportunity when even such names like Brian Bendis and Alex Maleev fail to draw a bigger audience solely for the fact that they are working on a book that is well out of  the fans’ usual consideration, but there is hope that their continued good work will garner further notice and distinguish the effort at least when it comes to critical reception.