Vengeance of the Moon Knight #7-10 "Killed, not dead"

With the conclusion of the "Shadownland: Moon Knight" tie-in mini-series, Marvel have officially ended the Greg Hurwitz run on the character, while announcing the plan to continue with the character in a different direction. This comes on the heels of breaking up the creative team following their first arc on the title, with artist Jerome Opena getting employed to assist with the relaunched "X-Force".

At the time, the editorial had only announced that #7 and 8, guest starring Deadpool, would feature the fill in art of Ten ("Ghost rider") Eng Huat. Following the dwindling sales results for the title, Marvel have no doubt hoped to attract some of the attention by featuring the comedic Merc with a mouth, content that the "Vengeance"'s focus on broader Marvel universe would make it somewhat more creatively justified. This approach ignored that now, at the peak of his popularity so far, Deadpool has been overexposed to the point of absurdity. Therefore, his presence alone certainly doesn't help the two-parter turn into a novelty factor for an already too jaded audience. Even if it did bring in those new readers, what little "Killed, not dead" had to present itself certainly did Moon Knight no favors.

This tale of the two anti-heroes' conflicting interests over a hospitalized criminal, and his right to live, does appear to at least continue Jake's character arc under Hurwitz' authorship, but that's the extent to what it does to separate it from the underlying Silver Age of the Marvel Universe. Deadpool is, like always, completely over the top, but the end result is neither funny enough for the reader to be entertained, nor is nuanced in such a way to convincingly lead one to empathize with the wrong woman whose grief is at the center of the story. Amid Haut's stylish angular anatomy, and energetic points of view is nothing less than a missed opportunity, teasing the reader with the premise of juxtaposition between the mercenary pasts of the characters, only to abandon the subplot in the second issue.

Having just such a throwaway story between two more ambitious arcs in an ongoing title would be a much more reasonable decision, providing the regular penciller with a headstart on the upcoming issues. As it stands now, Marvel's B-titles such as "Vengeance of the Moon Knight" are essentially so unsuccessful that the publisher gains more from the stop and start tactics of constantly relaunching and cancelling the series (with the added benefit of rethinking the brand in-between), than by the continuing publication of a traditional ongoing title, where one creative team follows on the heels of another. Trying to make the best of a bad situation, all the editorial could think to do was use the final two issues as a training ground for introducing new artistic talent to the company's pool of freelancers.

Hence, Juan ("Black summer", "No hero") Joze Ryp makes his debut for Marvel in an over-sized issue, teaming up Moon Knight with Spider-Man, after the company's flagship mismanaged cameo appearance in the opening arc. Once again, the story has little bearing on Jake's new Batman-like status, being decidedly lighter, and focusing on a cliched interpretation of both leads. Hurwitz's story seems to draw as much inspiration from Moon Knight's classical appearance of a superhero being flown around on a helicopter, as well as "Spider-Man 3", hoping that the reconfiguring of the title past it's Marvel Knights phase will endure such a lighthearted approach. In practice, "Collision" becomes an instantly forgettable diversion, seemingly aimed solely at testing the penciller's storytelling skills.

As such, the museum heist perpetrated by the Sandman certainly bring to the fore Ryp's kinetic and detailed style, alebeit rendered more universal, than his Avatar press work. And by abandoning horror and gore as his trademark subject matter, the artist still manages a story that feels much richer, and interesting in appearance than the regular, serviceable work offered in Marvel's less popular titles. That said, Juan has much more trouble rendering Moon Night's new body armor as lean as Opena, as well as spending far too much time on splash pages in an issue that's already stretched way past the limits of it's simple story.

The heavy Geoff Darrow influence is still hard at play, but Ryp somehow makes it his own, with superhero fans traditionally favoring just such an intensively realized version of New York, and the chaos on the streets in the hero/villain scenes. Just like Eng Huat, his commitment to the title covers one more issue, albeit that being a new story, clarifying Moon Knight's place in the Avengers franchise. At the time of the solicitations, there was still some doubt whether the title would continue past #10, but all was made clear soon, when no new "Vengeance" material was being announced past the "Shadowland" tie-in mini series.

Thus, the title proper ended it's run in another generic story, imitating the style of Ed Brubaker and Mike Deodato jr.'s "Secret Avengers", albeit with the Moon Knight as the spotlighted character. Such a slight distinction makes for a very unrewarding reading, particularly when the team title the protagonist has been included in still hasn't found it's own voice. Hurwitz finds his niche in showing the team protecting an ancient artifact from falling into hands of a rather over the top Captain Barracuda and his crew, ostensibly dusted off from the archives of Marvel's decades old filler material.

It goes without saying that just such an issue serves as no recommendation for the Secret Avengers title, neither is it a proper Moon Knight tale, by any stretch of the imagination. In returning the character to his West Coast Avengers phase, Marvel is simply following the tradition, of cancelling his solo book, and keeping the property in the minds of fans by having him play a role in one of the satellite Avengers books. As for the artistic contribution, even Juan Joze Ryp can do little to elevate such a silly story, and be inspired to make it stand up as an enjoyable superhero romp. Working under heavy coloring of Andres Mossa, his art becomes indistinct and blurry, brining forth the rawest parts of his style under the nightmarish sky and murky tanker walls. This is particularly off putting, following the open and lighter colors of the artistic team's collaboration in the previous issue.

In many ways, this issue hardly makes a case for it's existence, except by acting as a clear signpost of where the fans can expect to find the character next, now that "Vengeance of Moon Knight" has been cancelled.

Looking at the four issues following Opena's departure, it becomes clear that Marvel has rushed it's new ongoing series into existence. Following so quickly after the previous volume's conclusion, the publisher would have perhaps been better of by soliciting the 6-issue "Shock and awe" Dark Reign tie-in as a mini-series. Thereby, judging by the success of it's performance, the editorial could have made a more sensible decision regarding the start of a potential ongoing follow up.

Still, their entrust the creative team with a monthly series doesn't seem so misguided, when taking into account the general tendency of mini-series to underpeform in today's market. North American comic shops are simply overflowed with superhero books, and launching a new series starring a character that can at best be considered fan favorite, by employing a creative team that still has to find sizeable following, would have always been a risky proposition. That eventually, the work itself proved only adequate, certainly did the title no help in at least attracting the positive reviews that could have potentially helped the title stay afloat a little longer.

Yet, this was still not the end for Hurwitz's take on the character, as a last minute "Shadowland" event tie-in mini-series ended up providing something resembling a true ending towards a few of the main themes set up in his and Opena's opening "Vengeance of the Moon Knight" storyline.

Blueberry Fort Navajo 2 - Thunder in the West

"Thunder in the West" is the 1966 follow-up to Charlier and Giraud's western debut, originally serialized in Franco-Belgian's seminal "Pilote" magazine. Continuing directly from their "Fort Navajo" debut, the creative duo comes back with a story that is much more clearly in line with the overall lieutenant Blueberry saga. By dispersing with the ensemble cast scenario of the debut album, they put Mike Steve Donovan first and foremost as the hero on a quest of vital importance. Still, this decision feels very much like an organic progression, and is all the while fully integrated into the historically inspired setting of the looming war between the US army and Indian tribes.

In a lot of ways, "Thunder" is a much more wholesome entry in the series, despite being the second of the five volumes in the cycle. Charlier accomplishes this by having the background plot continue around his hero's mission that takes him away from the direct involvement in the events in Fort Navajo. The expensive setting of the Apache wars lends itself neatly for just such a treatment, in turn dividing this second volume in roughly three acts. When all is said and done, Blueberry's solo adventure takes up only the middle third of "Thunder", but despite the important events plot-wise taking place before and after his ride to Tucson, it forms the heart of the story.

At the same time, this fictional episode provides for a much more mythic portrayal of the journey, as if the temporary diversion from the historical canon of Apache wars inspired Charlier and Giraud to imagine Blueberry as a western Ulysses of sorts. Yet, despite the all around storytelling innovations in the "Thunder in the West", this early entry in the lieutenant Blueberry saga still has all of the hallmarks of the Fort Navajo story arc.

And although later editions have somewhat softened up the garish coloring of the original, the whole of Fort Navajo remains a very complicated and laborious beginning, with a very rigid plot, and a much more formulaic realization than the later, more freewheeling Blueberry adventures. This is not to say that the exposition heavy volume is solely of historical importance, but that it's hard to view it as something other than the training ground for the massive loose story that follows it up. Because, genuinely, the many twists and turns the Fort Navajo saga offers are very interesting, with "Thunder in the West" particularly being a good example of both creators doing extensive work to get the reader to invest emotionally.

Once again, the plight of the Indians, wrongly accused, and forced to defend themselves, forms the emotional core of the story, with a very important exception. Due to special attention given to Blueberry, the reader is drawn to start sympathizing with his efforts, beyond the casual attention given to whether one of the introduced US soldiers will live or die, that must have been a common reaction to the plot-heavy "Fort navajo" debut. And, Blueberry is not the only one to benefit from continued focus in "Thunder in the West" - lieutenant Crowe particularly displays a complex morality only hinted in the previous album, quickly becoming a major factor in Charlier and Giraud's depiction of the conflict.

Interestingly, the major plot point achieved at the close of "the Thunder" feels perfunctory for just that - the lack of extra care taken to fleshing out the particular concern. As for the chief impressions beyond the characterization, most of them involve the more practical concerns, voiced in the many action scenes. Once again tying in with the "Fort Navajo" debut, the creators extensively spotlight Blueberry's abilities as an experienced hunter and tracker. Giraud is called upon to time and again illustrate with clarity one of lieutenant's tricks, improvised at the moment, that usually serve to help him stack the odds in his favor. In a very real way, by slimming the cast of Fort Navajo to one clever soldier, the creators abandon all semblance of objectivity and focus on symbolizing a hero's plight, albeit illustrated with all of the realism that they can muster.

It is important to note that despite the storytelling approach of the day, favoring large doses of dialogue, broken only to be replaced by the captions, Charlier and Giraud still manage to provide a very suspenseful in "Thunder". The creators' sense of timing is impeccable, and most of the twists manage to be both entertaining and, in retrospect, logical. Likewise, when the stakes feel too much to convince the reader of Blueberry's survival, Charlier wisely introduces, and in one case, reintroduces, a companion to even the odds against the lieutenant.

Most impressively, the duo's compatibility achieves a stylistic highpoint in the scene depicting Blueberry's approach to the Diamond ranch. This single page is so brilliantly laid out and executed, that the reader is kept feeling every step of Blueberry's approach. As the point of view switches around, the scene reaches the climax of it's tension just as the reader is about to turn the page, and discover the truth of the matter at hand. By utilizing such a thrilling approach, Charlier and Giraud almost approach the horror atmosphere and keep it going just enough to get their point across and then continue with the plot.

In many ways, the best parts of the album as a whole mirror the experience of the Diamond ranch scene. The creators cover a lot of plot, albeit somewhat less epic parts of the conflict, with inspiration and a lot of ingenuity, and still eventually leading to fairly important story points, as signified by the final chase that finishes of the album. "Thunder in the West" remains a transitory chapter, a more personal one that fits well into the over action oriented fictional representation of the Apache wars conflict. Yet, by giving Blueberry the requisite spotlight, Charlier and Giraud slowly start working towards making him a character broader than the Fort Navajo epic, and capable of continuing in the other West-oriented adventures, that have come to define him much more definitely than his military days. The end result is, of course, one of complete success, in that by trusting their instincts and refining their craft, the creators have eventually created the complex and definite portrayal of the essential Franco-Belgian western comic, one whose fame far outstrips it's somewhat humble Fort Navajo origins.

As with many a long-form serialized story, there is simply no point in going back and bemoaning the lack of the familiar level of competency as shown in the title's mature phase. What's important is that "Thunder in the West" was deemed interesting by it's concurrent audience, and that support has helped Blueberry's up and coming creators work their way to the more memorable tales. Today's readers will no doubt be drawn to the Fort Navajo saga by recognizing it as the beginning of a long run starring a popular character, and looking at the work like that, it's best to take it as an engrossing genre story that equally serves as a showcase of the evolution of style of Charlier and Giraud, with the latter being of particular importance considering his eventual medium transforming influence and productivity.

Lieutenant Blueberry "Fort Navajo"

In 1963, French premiere comics outlet "Pilote" started serializing "Fort Navajo", a western publication by the magazine founder Jean-Michael ("Buck danny") Charlier and the newcomer Jean ("Jerry Spring") Giraud. Envisaged as the post Civil war ensemble piece spotlighting several different soldiers stationed in the eponymous outpost deep in the Indian territory, the story was heavily inspired by the Bascom affaire, that started the 25 year long Apache wars.

Starting out with a familiar scene set in a western saloon, the creators introduce the main characters, lieutenants Graig and Donovan, as an odd couple of action heroes. Yet, it is the latter, the anti-hero of the two, nicknamed "Blueberry" that has gained so much prominence and spotlight since, that the series was effectively rebranded under his own name following the debut episode. Following the opening scene, Charlier and Giraud almost immediately start launching a complicated plot mechanism that would showcase all of their creative choices regarding Fort Navajo as a story setting.

Thus, a simple investigation into a robbery they stumble upon on their way to the garrison, leads rapidly into a severe misunderstanding with the local Indians, threatening to erupt into an all out war. In order to rapidly accelerate the revenge story, Charlier uses a number of plot contrivances, all leading to the worst possible outcome, that still matches the key events, as they happened some 100 years previous.

In the process, the writer establishes only a handful of non-historical characters, and most of them in shorthand. This collection of archetypes is easily excusable when taking into account the epic brush strokes of the conflict. Lieutenants Graig, Blueberry and their new friend, half-Indian Crowe all get somewhat more nuanced portrayals, with distinctive character designs. Even then, only the Civil War soldier Blueberry comes out as a fully formed character, with formally trained officer Graig a distant second.

Still, their superior major Bascom is likely to elicit the strongest emotional reaction from the reader. Charlier depicts the historical character as a racist career man that directly makes all of the most controversial decisions, leading to the conflict with Apache leader Cochise. The storytellers cleverly paint Bascom almost like a force of nature, a character that the reader both fears and loathes, but taking a closer look, one realizes that there would simply not be much of a story without him.

Laying the groundwork for the rest of the story, "Fort Navajo" is a somewhat exposition heavy debut, but it nonetheless manages to carry across a lot of plot and three intricate action scenes. The first of these highlights the difference in the approach lieutenants Blueberry and Graig take in investigating what seems like an Apache raid. During the initial skirmishes with Indians, Mike Steve Donovan displays a lot of his later trademark wisdom and experience, by tricking his opponents in order to help his new friend.

Following the dialogue heavy opening, these chase scenes highlight Giraud's aptitude towards the material, revealing the young artist as endlessly adept at providing very naturalistic depictions of animals and the western surroundings. His detailed style is somewhat more formulaic when it gets to the characters, who seem to possess a somewhat plastic, and too visibly researched grimaces. When it gets to open spaces, and the combat dynamics, though, even this early, Giraud seems unequaled in depicting the plausible and memorable Wild West atmosphere.

Simply put, the artist's depiction of desert feels searing hot, simple and unforgiving, yet lined with a bevy of characteristically western rock formations that enrich and carry across the unique atmosphere of the prairie.

Yet, perhaps the series' biggest achievement is that in humanizing the Indians, it carries over a feeling of realistic politics, not only mirroring the historical Apache wars, but getting the reader to really appreciate the complexity of the situation. The original album is content to introduce the conflict and masterfully raise the foreboding feeling, with both sides victims of an elaborate set-up. After the massacre that serves as the book's central point and it's emotional highlight, the volume ends with a powerful and subdued scene clearly depicting the outcome of the negotiations and spelling disaster for the three lieutenants. Outranked by their greedy superior, and outgunned from all sides by the Apache tribes, these fictional stands ins to the violence that exploded around Fort Buchanan in Arizona, invited "Pilote" readers to accompany them through the dark days ahead.

Considering the talents of Charlier and Giraud, even though their first collaboration seems tame and classical compared to their later work with Blueberry, it was a very sensible proposition that lead to some of the greatest moments in the history of Franco-Belgian comics, while at the same time paving a way for Giraud's later experiments that would lead to him adopting the Moebius pseudonym and cement his world wide fame.

the Shadow returns

In 1986, mainstream superhero comics were forced to reevaluate their criteria, based on the debuts of the new critical darlings, "Watchmen" and "the Dark knight returns". And while both of these prestige format DC comics limited series were commercial hits as well, it's notable that the latter, Frank Miller's bold reimagining of the Batman mythos for the 21st century, got published almost side by side with his former studio mate's new project, coming from a very similar creative stand point.

At the time, Howard Chaykin was already lauded as the writer/artist of "American Flagg!", the cyberpunk satire that paved the way for a new type of genre comics in America, it's type being felt both in superhero and the alternative parts of the industry. In retrospect, the creator's work on the Shadow proved a temporary diversion in one of his attempts at trying his hand on work for hire concepts, that coupled with his subsequent revitalization of "Blackhawk", wound up being continued upon by the company's other talents. And while DC quickly gave up on following Chaykin's vision, trying their best with the more traditional approach on the Golden age concept, the 1986 mini-series stands up as a work that delivers all that it promised to.

Howard Chaykin's reconfiguration of the Shadow for the 1980s was just that, which goes to explain a lot about the controversy that it caused, during it's initial publication. As an other media character licensed to DC comics, any adaptation of the Shadow was always going to catch the purists as a surprise. This is ironic in a lot of ways, considering Batman reportedly being heavily inspired by the radio drama/pulp novel anti-hero, particularly taking into account the popularity Frank Miller's radical take on the Dark knight enjoyed at the time. Chaykin was purposely trying to attract a broader audience with his approach on the Street & Smith licence, but the conservative and ostensibly compartmentalized comics market proved uncompromising. Thus, "Blood and judgment" ended up being lauded presumably only by the Chaykin devoted, which wasn't that small a number considering the popularity the creator enjoyed at the time.

In a way, much like DC's other flagship, Superman, the Shadow was come to be identified by a myriad of details, all stemming from the different incarnations of the company owned property. Thus, each and every new iteration of the concept consists of the new creative team getting to pick and choose the elements, as it suits the editorial approved new direction. Chaykin, of course, did all this, but with a freedom reserved for the select few of the most sought after comics professionals - the ability to add a lot more of his personal touch to a new spin on the decades old icon.

When it comes to Chaykin, a large part of the appeal of his work lies in his layered, powerful art, perfectly suited for pulp-era adventure comics. Yet, Howard is also an ambitious storyteller, who doesn't let the escapist trappings of his chosen field of entertainment completely rob him from indulging in personal excesses. These have everything to do with the politics of the day, and thus, his Shadow is by it's very nature, a contradiction. In the writer/artist's fiercely independent hands, the very character design appears the same, but irrevocably changed, from the familiar icon, which has nothing to do with the fact that Shadow carries uzis, and not his signature 45s (in fact, the action scenes never slow down for the reader to notice the distinction). Just looking at Chaykin's drawing of the silhouetted figure, dressed in a black coat furnished with a scarf, with a wide-brimmed hat on top, betrays everything the project's about. Simply put, Chaykin's vision completely overpowers the Shadow'' original look, and is a far cry from the signature hook nosed, gaunt avenger - and the creator knows it.

The title characters' costume design was something was probably inarguable, and Chaykin did his best at making it his own. Thus Lamont Cranston sports the same stocky, muscular, glass-jawed look of all of his protagonists, and that's for the best. Because, everything else besides the costume is pure Chaykin.

The creator's uncompromising work stars from the very first page, as he opens with a scene of a crime, that gives way to an assortment of murders, graphically depicted on the page. All of these rapid cuts are devoid of any sort of context, introducing a whole slew of character names, and basically acting to alienate all but the most stubborn of readers. Gradually, a plot starts to emerge that is legible even to those not familiar with the Shadow's extended cast of characters, but just as soon as Chaykin reveals the direction he's taking the title in, the first issue is over. Yet, the cliffhanger ending goes a long way into enticing the audience to continue with the series.

By utilizing a rare splash page, the effect is even more direct, serving a simple purpose of promising more Shadow by Chaykin. Once again, Lamont Cranston, though dressed in a fitting suit, looks nothing like his usual depiction, but that doesn't stop him from proudly revealing himself as the original Chaykin protagonist. The creator was wholly aware of the work for hire nature of the assignment, but that didn't stop him from producing a very experimental first issue, capped by the introduction of his signature male model on the last page, as if he was directing a movie adaptation of the Shadow, with a very sly opening shot of himself in the title role.

Having introduced the plot and the characters (in his own way), Chaykin proceeds to spend all of the second issue on developing the motivation behind the story arc. Considering the largely flashback nature of the segment, it also doubles as providing the clearest indication of the writer/artist's take on the protagonist. As expected, Howard draws from several different interpretations of the character, and by presenting his origin, gets to explaining the continuity reasons for the Shadow's retirement following 1949 (the year of the cancellation of "the Shadow magazine"), all of which tie neatly with the threat that draws him from his Oriental seclusion.

For a writer so concerned with the radical reinvention of the property, Chaykin leaves his Golden age adventures as more or less the same as presented before, with one major distinction. The main sources of the Shadow's 1930s adventures diverged slightly in the matter of the avenger's secret identity, with novels explaining that Lamont Cranston was the assumed identity of WW1 pilot Kent Allard. Howard decides not only to continue the idea novel writer Walter B. Gibson had, of Allard knowingly impersonating Cranston in his quest as the Shadow, but goes even further in the four part mini-series, by making the distinction between the two men the focal point of the plot, centered around the Shadow's formative Oriental years.

Thus, concentrating on the identity crisis, the writer/artist solves the matter of finding a suitable villain, and both makes "Blood and judgment" a story that could only be told using the Shadow as the protagonist. As for the Asian backdrop, it's characteristically over the top, with the creator placing mythic Shamballa at the heart of the main character's motivation, while revealing enough about the ancient civilization to irk all but the most devoted of readers. Namely, in dealing with the hints of the Shadow's supernatural nature, Chaykin falls to his characteristic least subtle, presenting the oriental mystics as basically a race of supermen, equipped with flying cars, and miraculous healing technology. Hence, the training they imparted on the Shadow is nothing less than making the strange creature in black nothing less than metahuman, paralleling the origins of his new publisher's Superman.

Yet, by dispersing with the admittedly unconvincing martial arts explanation for his agility, Chaykin also firmly crosses the line straining the suspense of belief, and actually undermines some of the intrigue of his lead. This stylistic choice is perpetuated by the continuing appearance of Cranston's two sons, who contribute little to the story, except for calling to attention the extent of revision at play. Fortunately, the rest of the supporting cast provides some interesting color, most notably Harry Vincent and Margo Lane, Cranston's closest former aides, who, when faced with their elderly lives being turned upside down all of a sudden, find solace in one another.

Yet, most of the space in the penultimate issue is reserved for Harry's daughter Mavis, another Chaykin addition, and the supposed reader identification character. Still, despite being introduced as the spunky police profiler, playing the routine role of the journalist-like "love interest", once the Shadow shows her the make up of his new operation, she submits to the will of her "Master". The character subsequently fades into the background, and the writer/artist seemingly loses all interest in her, while setting up the climatic confrontation with Mavis as just one of the Shadows' many agents.

Along the way, the reader is treated to a brief look at another of the anti-hero's female agents, one with whom he maintains a much more professional relationship. This is no surprise, considering that Lorelei's brief on panel appearance consists of some of the most bizarre scenes in the whole series. Eventually, as a truly memorable female presence, the reader finds himself warming up to Mercy Preston, the presence behind so much of the carnage in "Blood and judgment".

Sadistic, obsessed with sex and death, she is in many ways a perfect fir for the Chaykin's version of the Shadow, yet Mercy forms only one part of the plot against the vigilante. The beautiful psychopath is married to the elderly, wheelchair bound Mayrock Preston (the original Lamont Cranston), forming a weird sexual triangle with his genetically engineered heir. In fact, this energetic combo gives the series most of it's energy, and connects it perfectly with it's creator's satire of the 1980s. That the heads of the Mayrock corporation employ sadistic new romantic club goers as their assassins, gives the work it's most apparent topicality, with the impact culminating in an off handed mention by the elderly Mayrock.

Admitting that he has AIDS to his young wife, now an HIV victim herself, draws a wedge between them needed for Shadow to step in. This is a much more potent symbol than the family's plan to activate the nuclear projectile aimed at New York, seeing as to how it relates to the thematic core of the project. In a very clear way, the original Lamont Cranston becomes not just a random gangster linked to the Shadow mythos by a clever application of trivia, but almost turns into Chaykin's own approximation of the ability of these pulpy concepts to survive in the cynical everyday of the new times. Preston's desire to extend his youth by taking over as his own son, an satirized version of the 1980s health and fitness devoted, feels much more sympathetic than the eternally young Shadow's motives for opposing him.

The knot of secret identities is for once very purposeful, and directly feeds into the story's themes. The Shadow is certainly charming, but he takes Shamballa for granted, having used it's science to continually prolong his youth. Lamont Cranston, the man whose identity he has usurped has lived to the old age in the world he's left behind and now wants nothing more than to change places once more, having been fatally ill with the latest disease. The metaphor is much more potent when taken into consideration that Chaykin connects the Shadow with Orient chiefly to serve as a perfunctory explanation for his continued vigor, considering that it has already long served the same purpose regarding his vigilante training.

Beyond this, the anti-hero has no motivation, and in choosing not to connect with Harry's daughter on any kind of deeper level, it's hard to see his mission continuing past the defeat of his "original" rival. The letterer, Ken Bruzenak employs a subtle effect indicating the Cranston's voice changing as he goes in character, which is perhaps the most notable addition in the depiction of the Shadow's attack on the "Mayrock casino hotel". Seeing the Master operate is almost like looking at him going through the motion, with even his signature laugh blending with the panel borders under Alex Wald's palette limited by then current coloring standards.

Because, no amount of action poses and ingenuity in the dynamic drawings can bring the Shadow, as written, to 1980s. And while it certainly makes sense that he would triumph in his memorable fight against the Preston family, there is no reason for him to stay away from Shamballa. In fact, Cranston leaving the mantle to his two sons would make much more sense story-wise. Still, leaving DC comics to continue publishing the Shadow with two half-Asian characters in the guise of their father would certainly have caused problems with both the audience and licencors.

Thus, no matter the Shadow's children already showing their preference for America, and the much reported crowds of Shadow fans dressing as their idol all over the country, the writer/artist ends his run on the expected point. With his leaving to continue work on other projects, it's clear that Chaykin understands that he's left behind a complete story without real need of a follow-up, but even then, "Blood and judgment" would have certainly benefited from an expended page count. Especially the concluding issue feels slight, when taken into account the numerous subplots that go unresolved considering the Shadow and his agents. Particularly Harry and Margo, whose resentment at being abandoned by Cranston seemingly plays no role in their getting to aid him with the attack on the Prestons.

Still, taking into account all that, with "the Shadow" Howard Chaykin has produced a very professional work that lives up to the complicated set of goals set for it and succeeds at every turn, while never forgetting to maintain a sense of fun with every step of the way. And while "Blood and judgment" never tries to equal "the Dark knight returns" in it's scope and ambitious, one must take note that Frank Miller's career path differed greatly from his former studio mate's. Namely, Howard was already an independent comics legend when he got to working for DC and Marvel, while the Batman scribe turned to creator owned comics only after he'd achieved mainstream success working in the superhero industry. Thus, it was only fitting that Chaykin approached his next assignment, revamping Blackhawk in the fittingly titled "Blood and iron" in much the same way he did with the Shadow, proceeding in the style that comes most naturally to him - his own.

Asterix and the Falling Sky

"Asterix and the falling sky", published in 2005, is the thirty third volume of the most successful European comic book series created by Rene Goscinny and Albert Uderzo. It is also only the eight one since the latter started both writing and drawing the book, which is significant considering that Goscinny died in 1977. To date, it appears that "the Falling sky" will likely remain the last full length Asterix adventure, discounting the two special albums that have been published around it, spotlighting short stories, and acting as the anniversary special, respectively.

Taken on it's own, this album is also quite likely the strangest Asterix story, and certainly the one that most deviated from the classic feel of the series. The cover homages the original "Asterix the Gaul" album and both invites the comparison, and yet reveals very little of the actual details of the plot. The story proper starts as a typical Goscinny/Uderzo adventure, featuring the pair of Gaulish heroes hunting for wild boars, but wastes no time to set up it's controversial plot. Just as the reader is eased into returning to the familiar characters and their typical ways, Uderzo breaks form and adds a completely alien to what might have been a start of just another Asterix and Obelix yarn.

Just seeing a 3d rendering of a simple model hovering above the Gaulish village, and spelling doom for it's defiant residents gives away the creator's intent. There is no subtlety to Uderzo's ideas at work in "the Falling sky", and just how the reader reacts to this will determine their enjoyment of the proceedings. By taking an oft repeated phrase of his characters fearing only the sky falling on their heads, and using it as a springboard to introduce a biting satire on the entire comic book industry certainly seemed as an ambitious undertaking. It's further polarizing how Uderzo gets to depicting it, tackling such a metafictional story at 78 years of age.

As for the context going in what was to be Asterix's most polarazing adventure, "les Editions Albert Rene/Goscinny Uderzo" prefaces the volume with a photograph that briefly describes the artist's start in the industry. Coupled with an endearing tribute to Walt Disney that closes of the volume, Uderzo makes sure the reader understands the impulses that led to introducing such strange and off-putting science fictional elements in what was always a premiere historical comedy, exemplifying the best in European comics targeted at a younger reader.

As many of his generation, young Uderzo was an artist influenced by Walt Disney and others early cartoon pioneers to contribute to the form of the newly established comic book. Thus, while him and Goscinny certainly felt inspired by the American comics Golden age, most notably by producing the western themed "Oumpah-pah the redskin", they have certainly since come into their own as quintessential European comic book authors. With "Asterix the Gaul" they had created something that was at once stylistically their own, as well as working as a period piece set 2000 years in the past of their own country. Despite the date never really advancing in the thirty odd Asterix stories since, a lot of the book's visual language and distinctive humor has since progressed to the point where it was when Goscinny died, and where it has, more or less, remained since, due to his artistic partner continuing the series.

Yet, despite some of Uderzo's ideas seeming somewhat more political and controversial, never has his work been as polarizing as with "the Falling sky". Considering that it was published so late in the author's life, when his output has dwindled to producing a single album every several years, the expectations have likewise significantly lowered. "Asterix" seemed to be defined by his decades old work, much more than the obligatory new volume, that seemed an impulse purchase from his many fans, who have literally grown up reading these charming tales. As such, the impact of "the Falling sky" was even stronger, considering such risk taking was nowhere near what was expected of the venerable, and widely beloved creator.

Yet, he was interested primarily in pointing out the special place Asterix and Obelix, and even broader, the Franco-Belgian comics, had on the comic book landscape, as defined by it's two largest industries, America and Japan. In order to make his points clear, he decided to borrow the narrative vocabulary of these distinctly different school of comic work, and proceeded to incorporate it wholesale in his existing, well-defined Asterix mythos. The result was bluntly putting into play two interstellar races coming to Earth in search of Getafix's magic potion, and stopping at nothing to hide their presence. Such a dramatic departure was potentially meant to be lessened by introducing a Mickey Mouse analogue in "Toon", the ambassador of Tadsilweny (a Walt Disney anagram) empire, as well as showing the reaction of his regular protagonists first and foremost.

And while the reader was to be entertained by just such a diversion, the in-jokes still feel odd and overpowering. And while Uderzo never proceeds to introduce more of emperor Hubs' (anagram of former president George W. Bush) forces beyond the Superman clones, what little there is of the political commentary thankfully quickly gets subdued. Unlike his superhero parody, further cementing the idea that the aliens' search for the magical potion doubles as the commentary on America's campaign for finding the weapons of mass destruction in Middle East would have surely driven the book into a territory simply unsuited to be dealt with using these children's characters.

This is likely for the best, considering that the addition of Nagmas, the Japanese-styled race with a corresponding set of anagrams, further complicates Uderzo's specific viewpoint. As opposed to the Tadsilweny invaders that Asterix and Obelix can somehow deal with, these other aliens are much more hostile, and depicting as possessing none of the whimsy of their interstellar rivals. And while Uderzo certainly plays his homages to Disney and Superman prototypes as both whimsy and dim-witted, not a lot of that spirit remains for their Asian counterparts.

In fact, the mangas are presented as single-minded and malevolent, hostile to both the Gauls and their newfound allies. This hilariously one-sided argument serves to demonstrate manga's rapid expansion of the last couple of decades, but it still seemingly betrays the creator's bias. Simply by paying attention to the somewhat tenious connection between Asterix's magical potion and that of the superclones' powers of strength, Uderzo seems to group them together and against the Asian invasion. The cockroach like armor and a martial arts substitute seem like a poor match for the united Gauls and Tadsilweny, making for an early climax that circumvents the role the Roman invaders have played in the plot so far, to make for the second ending only pages away, that ends the book.

Thus, the manga homages end up playing the role during the book's central act, only to be literally off the face of the Earth during it's final part. Concentrating on making his Disney homage be even more transparent, Uderzo sacrifices some of the book's drama, in order to bring back his own characters in the fray once more. The resulting clash with the Romans is once more a delight to read, if perhaps too brief. Solving the aliens' last minute dilemma, Asterix and Obelix make way for a twist ending, that once again approaches the territory of universally reviled tropes in fiction. In a very polarizing move, the creator solves the problem of having such an unwholesome element in the series' canon, one that truthfully always lept of the page as extraneous.

Thus, making good on the false climax a ten odd pages before, Uderzo finishes with a couple of typical Asterix jokes to round out the volume, and say goodbye to his characters under the computer generated background of the evening sky. Not surprisingly, Obelix the menhir maker ends up stealing every scene he's in, as the richest and organic part of the landscape, with some of his fellow villagers playing their typical roles to entice a pleasant nostalgia in the long time reader.

Uderzo was severely criticized for almost every aspect of "Asterix and the Falling sky", from the obvious clashing tone to the simplicity of the art style that he and his assistants have given the work, but the artist is still to be commanded for the exhibited ambition. The whole volume was certainly an experiment on his part, meaning that it was always going to be polarizing to the conservative readership, but it also seems to speak from the heart of a veteran comics professional, about the phenomena that he finds personally interesting. And while it's always the finished product that bears examination, not the original idea that inspired it, Uderzo's execution still feels typically tongue in cheek and charming as all of the classic Asterix stories. It is perhaps unfortunate that his final larger story was to be such a controversial offering, but despite the oft-putting introductions and a generally disconnected final product, this book proves why it closes the series.

"Asterix" has been good to Uderzo in a ways that even the most optimistic couldn't have expected, and in the end all that was left for the creator was to subvert the dynamic and try to entertain himself in ways that distance him from the fifty years of colorful stories. His subsequent decision to sell his share of the rights for the property, to make way for further stories by his assistants and eventually different creators, ensures that the series continues beyond his involvement, no doubt trying to evoke much more of the familiar Asterix elements beyond the ones featured in "the Falling sky".

Ultimate comics Avengers 2 #1-6 "Crime and punishment"

As part of their continued effort in re-energizing their Ultimate line of titles, Marvel has just concluded the second storyline of the imprint's co-architect Mark ("Civil war", "Wanted") Millar on "Ultimate comics Avengers". His collaboration with Leinil ("Secret invasion", "Wolverine") Francis Yu has also served to mark the halfway point of the writer's scheduled engagement, packaged as four connected limited series.

That the publisher is serious in rethinking their once premier brand, is apparent from every facet of the bi-weekly presentation. The result is nothing less than a very solid action comic, and a surprisingly accessible one. Overall, the "Ultimatum" crossover that preceded the line-wide rethinking of the Ultimate brand seemed to have been conceived with the idea that the company should cancel the most problematic titles and start over with a tighter focus. While in practice this meant limiting the number of writers to a small cadre of proven commodities, and pairing them with some of the most popular superhero artists, with "Ultimate comics Avengers" another very important facet is notable from the start.

By inviting back Millar, the writer of the company's smash hit "Ultimates", Marvel primarily seemed to have been interested in his qualities as an ideas man. And while some of his trademark fan-baiting ideas still come through, the whole of "Ultimate comics Avengers" project feels much less political and ambitious than it's famous precursor. The company seems certainly open to his innovations, with the commitment showing in making these spin-off stories be as startlingly visual as they can be, following Carlos Pacheco's work with the art team of Yu (inked by fellow Filipino Gerry Alanguilan) and celebrated colorist Laura ("Planetary", "Astonishing X-Men") Martin.

The creators open their story in a very intriguing way, by basically having the whole of first issue be a prelude, meant to reintroduce the Ultimate universe version of the Punisher. As such, it reads like a perfectly serviceable "the Punisher" comic, albeit penciled by Yu. And just as the reader familiar with the character starts resenting the set-up as a yet another generic retread of the ground so often covered much the same way in the regular Marvel universe, Millar comes up with a fast and effective way of reminding the reader of the team concept implied by the title. There is not much more to the opener, except for a callback to Matt Fraction's run on the "Punisher war journal" title, demonstrated by Ariel Olivetti-inspired costume the character ends up sporting in "Ultimate comics Avengers".

Similarly, the second issue is devoted to reestablishing the role of the Hulk in the Ultimate Marvel universe, a concept that the writer introduced in his first arc. By having two new characters substituting for the role of the team's uncontrollable strongman, Millar seems to be determined on setting up some kind of reconciliation regarding the issue. The matter is left to be resolved in another mini-series, presumably featuring the original Hulk, who is still supposed to be alive in the Ultimate universe. As for the matter at hand, Tyrone Cash is introduced as a simple idea, that of the Banner's mentor and first historical Hulk posing as a criminal warlord. The inclusion of another identity and the tragic past is there to help give the character a typical Marvel feel (as well as tying in with the mini-series' thematic core). Despite the enormous bulk and the facial tattoos, the character somewhat resembles Luke Cage and is certainly stereotypical, albeit on purpose. Millar and Yu use him in an engaging way, and it is likely that his hinted depth will resurface at a later date.

It is only with the third issue that the writer finally provides exposition on the nature of the threat that Nick Fury has assembled this particular black ops team to deal with. As is his mandate, this ends up being a revitalized version of another longtime Marvel mainstay, the Ghost rider. Despite considerable effort by Millar to establish the supernatural anti-hero as a compelling force in his own right, he faces a very particular problem. Despite his decades old status, coupled with a surge of popularity in the 1990s and a 2007 feature film, the Ghost rider has always been a cult favorite character. Certainly the most popular of Marvel horror titles, his comic has still faced cancellation time and again, making it a particularly challenging to update the concept for modern audiences in the alternate continuity of the Ultimate line.

On his end, Yu responds with a relatively tame version of Johny Blaze's costume, more or less reimagined into a typical biker's outfit. This lets the artist concentrate on Ghost rider's motorcycle and his main opponent, introduced in the last act. And while his designs are fluid and in keeping with the mythos' jagged edge, they seem to concentrate too much on the spikes and chains to be particularly iconic in their own right. This might seem an ironic thing to say when talking about a character that is all but defined by these things, but it's the lack of a strong central designing motif that makes Laura Martin's coloring the chief help in separating the two related hell-powered creatures.

Bearing in mind that it was Millar who famously broke away with the relative restraint of the Ultimate universe's science foundations, to introduce genuine pagan mythology, the addition of an unambiguous take on origins of the Ghost rider does seem slightly overstated and out of place. Certainly, faith plays a large role on the motivations of several of the featured players, but it feels like a fine line has been crossed from having Johny's infernal mentor not be Daimon Hellstrom from the same well of Marvel's supernatural properties, but Mephisto himself.

Getting back to the rest of the cast, the aforementioned the first Hulk and the Punisher naturally benefit the most from an arc that deals with some of the darker concepts touching at the heart of their motivations. Hawkeye the Ultimates mainstay likewise enjoys some convincing character moments by integrating with the Punisher. In this way Millar makes a commendable effort on continuing on with the character after putting him through a very rigorous ordeal in the set-up of the "Ultimates 2"'s final storyline. Unfortunately, just like Pacheco preceding him, Yu is forced to work with Joe ("Battle chasers", "Ultimates 3") Madureira's redesign, that works as a typical superhero costume but creates a disturbing effect when juxtaposed with Hawkeye's emotional disposition. Yu wisely tones down some of Mad's touches, and goes for a style that seems much more suited to a military uniform, albeit still far away from Bryan Hitch's original concept.

The two least developed characters that still inhabit a lot of panel space are the new Black widow and War machine, who once again fades into the background role. But at least the Iron Man mainstay's presence gets felt when it comes to the fighting, which cannot really be said for Monika Chang, who is for the length of another whole mini-series still actively defined by her former marriage to Nick Fury. As is always the case with Millar, both the set-up issues, and the climax of the "Crime and punishment" arc are action-filled, striving to be entertaining first and foremost, and this stays true throughout, despite the problems of exposing Ghost rider's revised origin, such as it is, and some minor art details, such as War machine's armor being too bulky to fit comfortably on the page.

Yet, for a couple of veteran comic professionals (despite Leinil being a mere 33 years old), some very strange mistakes happen during the course of the story. The fourth issue seems particularly problematic, opening as it does with a splash page, that is instantly reproduced as the first panel of the next page, stopping the pacing just a few seconds, but enough to take the reader out of the story. Similarly, a one-panel appearance by a small child, frightened by Mephisto, ends up being possibly more disturbing than the harrowing vengeance perpetrated by the Ghost rider. The reason for this is simply the rush in which the penciller turned out the page, causing him to imbue a pre-school boy with a head far too large and mature for his own age. Similarly, the cameo appearance by Tony Stark feels strangely disconnected and not at all because of the effect of the surprise the character has on the gathered SHIELD agents. The storytelling simply fails at setting up a proper pace and choreography for his intended role, while ironically proceeding with a very effective sequence featuring the mysterious Spider acting as the team's oracle.

As for the somewhat controversial aspect regarding the political background of Ghost rider's direct opponent, it feels tacked on, being foreshadowed by a few lines that fail to properly accentuate their importance. Millar's try for provocation seems similarly half-hearted and is bound to irritate only the most controversial of the readers. Despite his importance to the plot and Johny Blaze's revenge, the villain's impact still seems less direct than the previous storyline's controversial reinvention of Red Skull. Perhaps it's the lack of the connection to the team members themselves, but Ghost rider's opposite number feels very much a character too closely related to his own mythos, and shoehorned into fighting battle-ready Avengers at the last moment.

Regarding the character arcs that build the narrative tissue together, Millar is very careful in pairing up the conversing team members, thus providing both interesting subplots and opportunities for a dialogue that feels somewhat naturalistic, given the circumstances. There is a certain lack of a noticeable female presence in the story, but it can be somewhat understood, as it's dealing primarily with themes of extreme physical aggression. Still, the lack of resolution of Nick Fury shutting off his SHIELD superior Carol Danvers feels unfortunate, if not bordering on parodic, almost as if Millar was drawing a line excluding the presence of pretty girls in serious, otherworldly matters.

As for that wider thematic connection, it deals with justifying zealotry, as exemplified by Punisher, the first Hulk, Hawkeye, and finally Ghost rider. All of these characters have a fair bit of fanaticism to themselves, motivated by personal loss. Yet, Millar decided to go one step further and openly invite religion in a superhero story, intent on making a more precise point than the usual use of the holy symbol against the supernatural threats. To achieve this, he has the Punisher presented with a spiritual epiphany, that of a message from the afterlife. And while this too becomes a plot point by the end, once again highlighting the similarity between the vigilante and Ghost rider. A climatic final showdown even takes place in the church, with Millar intent on making it bear deeper symbolism than the typical use of the fighting on the holy ground being forbidden, as seen in movies like "the Highlander".

And while seeing superheroes discuss religion in such open terms is always somewhat disconcerting, Millar makes the most of introducing the ideas of Hell in his story, by largely forthcoming with his intent. In the end, "Crime and punishment" makes good on it's promise of an action story, in large part thanks to Leinil Francis Yu's contribution. While not concentrating himself on the acting of his talkative characters, giving them serious faces when not smirking or gritting their teeth, the Filipino artist still manages to handle even the most complicated of the set pieces with clarity and an approach all his own. His sketchy style given concrete definition by Gerry Alanguilan (sharing credit with no less than three assistant inkers the final issue), Yu conveys a lot of energy and movement in a way that seems typical of 1990s heyday of over muscular forms and gory details.

His attention to detail varying with the impact of the panel (and one would guess, the constrains of rigorous deadlines), it starts being colored by Laura Martin with shades of grey being broken by touches of blue and flashes of green and red, the palette seems to change for darker with the arrival of her replacement, Dave McCaig for the final four issues of the series. The difference is subtle and mostly noticeable due to addition of bright yellow to signify movement and danger. Even with the addition of Frank Martin coloring some of the pages of the apparently hastily put together final issue, the effect is that of unified coloring scheme, employed to highlight Yu's drawings in a very effective way.

For all their work, it is doubtful that the sum total of Millar and Yu's work on this particular mini-series will interest the potential new readers to the validity of the company's supernatural storytelling possibilities, particularly regarding a follow-up Ghost rider appearance. The character is competently presented, but once he follows through on the logical progression of his origin, there seems little of any inherent value in continuing his story in the Ultimate universe. Thus, it makes sense that the focus continues on Nick Fury's Ultimates black ops team, even as they confront Blade in next arc's yet another superheroes fighting vampires scenario that the writer has teased with such enthusiasm. Still, getting to the readers' good side will no doubt prove easier with the fan-favorite Steve ("Preacher", "the Punisher") Dillon on art, while Millar's creator owned "Superior" project with Leinil Francis Yu gets published alongside.

What is certain is that Marvel seems poised on letting all of Mark Millar's vision for these characters see light in a high quality presentation. The latter two mini-series will no doubt still function as stories that can be read on their own, with the added benefit of subplots working in the background for the reader who choses to read through all of these stories in sequence. This was always the plan for the Ultimate imprint, and it's refreshing to see Marvel stick to it even when publishing derivative work from one of it's strongest voices.

Deadpool: Merc with a mouth #7-13 "Marvel zombies"

"Deadpool - Merc with a mouth" is the title of Deadpool's second current ongoing series that was just discontinued in a unique manner, by having the publication of it's final issues run concurrent to the new title that's spinning off it, "Deadpool corps". Although the team title chronologically takes place after #7-13, Marvel still published the second storyline of "the Merc with a mouth" as regular arc, benefiting future readers who sample Gischler's story in it's intended sequence.

The labyrinthine way in which all of these comics are published ("Deadpool corps" was preceded by a 5 issue weekly prelude, and almost managed to complete it's first ongoing storyline before the parent title had ended it's run), actually has a story precedent in this very book, bearing larger plot ramifications. In fact, "Merc with a mouth" debuted as a second Deadpool monthly geared towards humorous stories that had less to do with the contemporary make up of the Marvel universe, as defined by the company's most popular titles. The distinction was that Victor Gischler and Bong Dazo's work featured a completely original supporting cast, augmented by no less than the animated head of "Marvel zombies"' Deadpool, serving as the series' McGuffin.

This bizarre choice served to introduce a continuity spiral using the backdoor of the opening Savage Land story line, setting the stage for what eventually turned out to be it's second and last tale in this configuration. The introduction of the Marvel zombies universe was an idea that opened Mark ("Wanted", "Ultimates") Millar and Greg ("Sojourn", "Uncanny X-Men") Land's run as the creative team of "Ultimate Fantastic Four". It gained further notoriety as a spin off under the direction of Robert ("Walking dead", "Invincible") Kirkman and Sean ("Criminal", "Sleeper") Phillips, the creative team of the first couple of mini-series. Consequentially, "Merc with a mouth" follows the continuity of Fred ("Action philosophers", "Incredible Hercules") Van Lente and Kev ("2000AD magazine") Walker "Marvel zombies" minis.

All of this background going in to set up Deadpool's comedic sidekick pays off in the second storyarc by the regular creative team of Gischler and Dazo. Interestingly, the creators had the idea of having this arc, that was so obtrusively set up and followed upon, stand on it's own, structuring it as a time traveling loop ending right where the story begun. In a typical superhero comic book fashion, this kind of play with popular sci-fi concepts doesn't end there, as the main plot concerns crossing over to the Marvel zombies universe, thereby marrying the company's two premiere black comedy franchises. The expensive seven issue story, sporting Arthur Suydam covers, is bookended by two 32 page chapters, largely dealing with time travel dynamics.

The first of these features Deadpool's creator Rob ("X-Force", "Youngblood") Liefeld, Kyle ("Nat Turner", "Plastic man") Baker and Das ("Kafre", "los Heresiarcas") Pastoras, illustrating alternate dimension sequences, which in turn set up "Deadpool corps". Meanwhile, after drawing the framing sequence featuring the regular cast, the book's regular penciller Dazo continues to illustrate the bulk of the actual story pages. Nominally, the plot mechanics involved having Deadpool and his two new found allies getting the head of his alternate reality doppelganger back to it's native universe, but this is quickly forgotten, once the quarter get to the other dimension. Thankfully, their AIM pursuers from the opening storyline follow suit, retaining their original goal of treating it as an item to be secured.

Meanwhile, Deadpool, Betty and agent Bill spend most of the arc trying to survive the immediate threat of Manhattan besieged by perpetually hungry zombie superheroes, and later on actually change their goals by integrating the animated head's on plan with their return to proper reality. These kinds of rambling plots are a necessary evil of trying to fit in an exotic story into official superhero narratives, and the readers have long proven patient with ignoring various bits of pseudo science involved in order to get to an interesting story. "Merc with a mouth" certainly offers something resembling a complete adventure in the Marvel zombies universe, albeit with a large focus on the plot mechanics involved in bridging narratives.

As for the story Gischler and Dazo offer, it's very peculiar, while limited to a small geographic area. Literally, the arc's central five issues span what feels like no more than a single city block, and even then significantly little world building occurs. Tied to roughly the same location featured in Van Lente and Walker's "Marvel zombies 3", Dazo offers a lot of post apocalyptic paraphernalia, of broken buildings and dirty environments under colorist Matt Milla's scorching sun. The penciller is from the start in an unenviable position, having to produce a large amount of work in a very short time. He responds by producing the quirky yet convincing designs the survivors of the zombie outbreak, yet his work ends up lacking a bit of energy and refinement seen in "Head trip". And while inker Leonardo Ito could be blamed for not giving further definition to Dazo's work, the storytellers do still establish the story's major two locations and the frantic actions going on all around them in a manner befitting Marvel's house style.

The problem is that the confinement rarely feels genuine, as precious few undead react to the rumors of a hidden group of extinct humans hiding in New York's ruins. While producing a humor book starring an indestructible mercenary, perhaps it's to be understood why the creators focused on the more oddball details of the scenario, but there are still some of the glaring flaws. For instance, of the super villains encountered, only a rare few are properly identified, sporting fairly uniform evil hungry zombies personalities. For the benefit of the new reader, their powers are clearly established through the action sequences, but for the reasons already stated, "Merc with a mouth"'s second arc remains firmly aimed at longtime fans of Marvel and their superhero properties.

Of the villains involved, the Absorbing man gets most space, and his conflict with Deadpool and the survivors gathered around him feels genuine, nicely developed, and eventually pays off in a hilarious way that is definitely the book's high point. Commendably, Gischler and Dazo realize that their new characters probably don't have a lot of life beyond this story, and use this to interject drama in the scenario.

To be fair, some of the twists are downright juvenile, even by the standards of the protagonist. And while the character subplots fare somewhat better, some of the plot twists and humor reveal a focus on teenage audience, who would be most likely to sympathize with Deadpool praising of gaming consoles, and constant focus on fast food and rash interactions with women. It goes without saying that the love triangle he so stubbornly tries to create (mirroring nothing less than Archie comics) consists of unusually proportioned Betty and Veronica behaving in slightly illogical ways, but Gischler still injects them with enough personality that their motivations feel adequate considering the post apocalyptic zombie surroundings.

At least horribly scarred Deadpool's fantasies occur in a comedy book, with his bravado and flamboyancy being part of the character's anti-hero charm. Of the supporting cast carried over from the previous story arc, the writer finds roles for all of them, even Bill, agent of AIM, a wholly superficial character ends up with a plot-convenient role of being capable of driving various vehicles the protagonist forces him to use to help their escape. Dr. Betty on the other hand, remains perhaps the best developed character in the book, although Dazo does end up on settling her with a very generic outfit for the final part of the story. With the addition of professor Veronica as a more approachable target for Deadpool, the creators largely avoid making her play the constant oversexed teasing role she had in the previous six issues.

As for the two AIM agents, their role finishes off the final parts of Deadpool's stay in the Marvel zombies' universe, but the diminishing focus renders them a momentary threat at best, eventually turning into nothing more than the targets for a couple of easy jokes. Unforunately, with the ultimate fate of Deadpool and his animated head companion's return to regular reality already revealed in "Deadpool corps", the 32-page finale is sapped of some of both drama and momentum. The "Headpool"'s complicated plan, set up in a very clumsy previous sequence, takes center stage, but Gischler is careful to include the resolution of the tension between the protagonist dr. Betty in tow with the time traveling mechanics.

Thus, at least some of the titles' 13 issues have impact before colliding with an ending that has already been revealed in the "Prelude to Deadpool corps". Thus, the discussion of Deadpool's second ongoing title ending is once again tied with it's follow-up. Marvel's decision for such a radical change of direction seems to make sense once the reader has been privy to Gishler's first two stories in "Merc with a mouth". The relentless tying in to "Marvel zombies 3" does nothing so much as belabor the final issue with a tedious scenario, which isn't helped by Dazo's inability to illustrate the whole episode. Hence parts of it's 32 pages featuring fill-ins by Matteo Scalera and, once again Kyle Baker (this time without the in-story reason for the varying styles) feeling as simply Marvel doing all it can to finally complete the project it has commited to a little more than a year ago.

And despite the ludicrous premise of featuring a cast of four different versions of Deadpool uniting to combat cosmic threats, it still feels a step up from "Merc with a mouth", that never really developed beyond it's creators trying to put their own spin on what Daniel Way has been doing since reintroducing the character. And it's not that the duo have felt redundant by using the tropes the writer introduced in the "Wolverine: origins" arc, like dual narration and Pool-o-vision, it's just that the book felt by covering much of the same ground, despite the different supporting cast and the Marvel zombies connection. Time will tell how the market will react to both Gischler's work on "Deadpool corps" and the overall, rapidly expanding line of Deadpool books, but for now, it's safe to say that his and Dazo's work feels complete, despite the number of other books it connects to. "Merc with a mouth" seemed like trying to offer an alternative to the creative vision behind the core Deadpool title, before actually seeing the creators responsible finish their commitment to the book.