Saturday Splash Page #243

"Ballroom Black Tie Blitz," in U.S.Avengers #2, by Al Ewing (writer), Paco Medina (writer), Juan Vlasco (inker), Jesus Arbutov (colorist), Joe Caramagna (letterer)

At the conclusion of his New Avengers volume, Al Ewing had Roberto Da Costa take the step of placing his "Avengers Idea Mechanics," under the U.S. government. They no longer risk imprisonment if they confront a threat on U.S. soil, but now Da Costa's got a boss: Captain America.

Unfortunately, it's HYDRA Cap, aka Stevil Rogers. The book spends half its 12 issues - 5 through 9, and issue 10 deals with the fallout - on Secret Empire tie-ins. Some of the attack comes from within, AIM scientists angry their boss sold out to "The Man." Of course, they're helping HYDRA take over the world, so they just end up working for a new "The Man," but no one ever said people like that possess any level of self-awareness.

And at least we aren't told Sunspot actually anticipated all this and Stevil's playing into his hands. Nope, Da Costa gets blindsided and spends most of the tie-in near death in a holding cell, until Toni Ho works out something that lets him use his powers without dying (he got poisoned by Terrigen Mist during that whole mess where Marvel put the X-Men at cross-purposes with the Inhumans.

. . .Which came after the period where the X-Men were at cross-purposes to the Avengers, because the Avengers objected to risking the entire planet on Cyclops' unsubstantiated belief the Giant Space Firebird That Might Be His Second Ex-Wife was coming to Earth to restore mutants, but before the period where the X-Men were at cross-purposes to the Eternals, because the Eternals objected to mutants getting immortality. More crosses in the X-Men's recent back history than End of Evangelion.)

Of the other 6 issues, the first three are about some refugee criminal loser from an alternate timeline future who's looking to loot all the nice stuff 616 has, because it isn't a post-apocalyptic wasteland (yet.) He's ultimately a pathetic dope, obsessed with making things that look impressive but are actually crap, and constantly backstabbing his lackeys because he thinks he deserves everything and should never have to honor his promises. He sets up in some half-constructed Murderworld, gets someone to build him a power armor out of gold (which is a bad idea), and folds like a house of cards on a wobbly table.

The last two issues involve the team traveling to space to locate missing team member Cannonball. Who, it turns out, has been sold to that planet of Skrulls cosplaying as gangsters. Except now they're cosplaying as Archie Andrews, sorry, Richie Redwood, and his crew. Albeit, only a very particular era and version of the Richie Redwood lore. It's basically Ewing poking at people who complain about representation or things changing in their comics, which, OK, sure.

The roster is mostly different from New Avengers. Wiccan and Hulking are gone. Ditto White Tiger, Power Man, Hawkeye and Songbird. Squirrel Girl and Toni are the main holdovers, and Toni was more Tech Support/Science Exposition Delivery Device in the prior volume. Now she runs around in a huge armor suit filled with "non-lethal" weapons. Like pulse cannons. Not lethal! Just really painful. The pain is how you know you're still alive! Her girlfriend, Enigma, is trying to get Toni to stop with the weapons, non-lethal or otherwise. Squirrel Girl remains delightful, though not nearly a big enough presence in the book to really elevate it for me.

There's also General Maverick, previously an antagonist, now a liaison who keeps getting involved with the missions. His "dollar store Thunderbolt Ross" shtick is not aided when he gets an implant that lets him transform into a Red Hulk for an hour a day. Which he punctuates by yelling, "Hulk Plug-In, Get to Sluggin'!"

That's, that's just awful. I'd rather be punched by a Red Hulk than have to hear him yell that. Yes, I know it's a play on that '70s cartoon with the kid who transforms into the Ever-Lovin' Idol of Millions via his "Thing Ring." That does not make it not awful. Does Avengers Idea Mechanics not have a Marketing Department?

Paco Medina draws 8 issues, with Vlasco as his inker. Paco Diaz draws the other 4, and mostly inks himself. Jesus Arbutov keeps the look of the book fairly similar throughout, rarely going to dark or murky with the colors or tones. Even when things are going badly, the book is mostly bright and things are easy to see. I think it's the notion that the world is not past saving, even if the fascists are winning at the moment. In that first, 3-issue arc, the Captain America of that alternate timeline future (Luke and Jessica Jones' daughter) outright tells the team there was supposed to be a horrible event last year, and Sunspot's crew somehow prevented it from happening. Nothing is set in stone, there's still light in the world, so don't stop trying. 

Medina and Diaz's styles aren't what I'd call wildly distinctive. Neither gets too experimental with layouts or panel perspectives. Things are kept straightforward, easy to follow the action and the sequence of events, easy to see what characters are doing. Medina's toned down the excesses in proportions I remember from when he was drawing Daniel Way's Deadpool, while Diaz struggles with hands looking oddly small at times, or selling some of the emotional beats. The characters sometimes look more like someone trying to act shocked than actually being shocked, if that makes sense. There's an example in my review of the back half of the series.

Random Back Issues #173 - Peter Parker: Spider-Man #91

All right, it's the good Identity Crisis! What? I'm entirely serious.

Spider-Man's been framed for the murder of some guy named Joey Z. By Norman Osborn, because this was post-Clone Saga, when they made Osborn into Peter Parker's Kingpin, aka, the guy that's behind everything that goes wrong in the hero's life. In response, Peter adopted 4 new costumed identities, which makes getting ready for a clandestine meeting with Arthur Stacy (Gwen's uncle) and a Detective Snipes tricky. MJ has a good laugh at his expense, so Peter throws on his regular duds in a huff.

Snipes had some 'lab boys' analyze a sample of Spidey's webbing, and it doesn't match what was used to suffocate Joey Z. The mayor and D.A. are getting pressure from 'the private sector' (read: Osborn), and they don't care. Spidey figures the only person who could approximate his webbing is The Trapster, and, lo and behold, he's got a price on his head. The issue started with him handling some members of the Hand (?!) that tried to collect.Also, the Trapster's look now involves him tying fabric around his head like he's a ninja.

Peter's ready to hunt Trapster down and do a little enhanced interrogation, but Stacy points out that kind of direct approach is what started this (he got physical with Norman.) I would argue that only proves he didn't get physical enough. He needed to tear Osborn's head off and drop kick it into a furnace. But fine, Peter will try and take advantage of Paste Pot's desperation.

MJ wasn't happy about Peter going out as Spider-Man with a price on his head, and the cold shoulder is in full effect as they cram for midterms at the university library. Peter tries to get her to talk about it, but MJ needs to study. Besides, Peter will just do whatever he wants, so what's there to talk about?

Peter tries again outside the library, now in the Dusk outfit he picked up in the Negative Zone, but he tells MJ he's doing this no matter what so, she was right. He's going to do what he wants. Maybe Peter needs to add a debate and rhetoric class to his course load. Also, MJ comments she sometimes thinks she'd be better off if she just didn't know about the secret identities and all that. Careful what you wish for and all that.

Elsewhere, Trapster's walking down the street, mulling over his wasted life (paraphrasing) when a mysterious figure grabs him by the scruff of his coat and quotes Terminator 2. Because the Shocker's looking to collect the price on Trapster's head. Stop laughing, he's serious! Seriously chunky, and I don't think it's just Romita Jr.'s tendency to bulk everybody up like they've been hitting the wheatcakes extra hard.

Despite doing a lot of darting out of the shadows to hit-and-run, Peter keeps running his yap like he always does. Leave it to Howard Mackie to not understand Peter was supposed to behave differently in the different costumes, in addition to acting differently. (He does do better in the next issue.)

The fight is a mess, in a bad way. It feels like Romita Jr. and Mackie aren't in sync. At one point, Dusk punches Shocker in the back of the head. On the next page, we get a long shot of Shocker seemingly alone on the trashed roof, but in the very next panel, he is, for some reason digging himself out from underneath rubble. Then there's what looks like a blast from his gauntlets, except it's from behind him and Romita adds little surprise lines around Shocker's head like he's being surprised. Then a small panel of Trapster looking, something, before Dusk sweeps over the Shocker again.

I think what's happening is, Peter knocks the wreckage on the left side of the first panel on top of Shocker in the second panel, and that's what he's blasting. There's a barely visible "Get over it!" on Shocker's shoulder in the middle of the 2nd panel, where they didn't put a speech balloon. That's probably Dusk's dialogue. 

Anyway, Shocker loses, Dusk stops Trapster from gluing the valves of his heart shut, says he's also someone Norman Osborn screwed over, and they should work together to get even. Look, even if this is not a particularly good example, I stand by my claim this Identity Crisis is better than Brad Meltzer's version. It's that low of a bar to clear.

{8th longbox, 52nd comic. Peter Parker: Spider-Man #91, by Howard Mackie (writer), John Romita Jr. (penciler), Scott Hanna (inker), Gregory Wright (colorist), Richard Starkings and Kiff Scholl (letterers)}

Let It Go, Before It Drags You Under

I don't think I was ever a particularly big fan of Vicious, Spike's old partner from his crime syndicate hitman days, and the closest thing to a final boss Cowboy Bebop has. Spike's never afraid of Vicious, or hesitant to face him. If anything, he's almost psychotic at times about wanting to kill Vicious. And Vicious is usually content to make Spike fight through two or three dozen goons to get at him. Which, while entirely appropriate for a villain, doesn't do a lot to burnish his credentials as a badass.

Yes, you kicked Spike out a window, after he'd been shot three times mowing down your cannon fodder. Bra-vo. *sarcastic golf clap*

Rewatching the series this spring made me, if anything, even less impressed. Vicious spends most of the series steadily taking control of "The Syndicate", until he's basically the Kingpin for the entire Solar System. He's got dozens of guys ready to die for him. Money, power, influence, drugs, weapons, all that stuff at his beck and call. And, upon reaches that pinnacle, Vicious decides he's got to finish Spike off once and for all. Bring the entire syndicate down on him, the proverbial anvil to crush a cockroach.

Meanwhile, Spike is barely managing a subsistence-level existence as a bounty hunter. Living on a beat to hell scow of a spaceship, with a grumpy ex-cop and a woman who's a walking advertisement for those gambling addiction hotline numbers. Given how readily Spike bails to pursue any lead on Julia or to get at Vicious, I don't think he's really happy with that life. Either it's the best he thinks he can get, or the best he deserves, or he just doesn't see the point in trying for anything better without Julia.

Watching the finale, having seen Spike's life over the previous 20+ episodes, all I could think was, "Vicious, sweetie, you won the break-up. Move on."

I'm sure Vicious would argue there's some higher ideal behind his actions. That once you're in, you're in until death. That Spike, by trying to leave for a peaceful life with Julia, betrayed the ideals of The Syndicate as surely as Vicious claimed its leaders did when he staged his coup. If you let one person get away with leaving, The Syndicate looks weak.

So Spike has to be killed as an example, even though the life he's living could serve as a cautionary tale to anyone thinking about bailing. Stick with the Syndicate, at least you'll die in a nice suit, instead of in a second-rate blue suit that makes you look like a broker on a losing streak.

And refusing to let it go gets Vicious killed. He loses everything he got almost as soon as he got it, because he wouldn't let go of an old grudge. Of course, Spike would argue they both were supposed to die years ago, when things first came to a head. This was just both of them finally realizing it. The heart still pumping blood, even if there's no conscious mind to make use of it. So maybe they both got what they wanted, in the end.

Overdue Movie Reviews #15 - Necessary Roughness (1991)

The Texas State Armadillos were national champions of college football. They were also cheating in a variety of ways, including steroid use, paying players under the table, and fixing grades so players could remain academically eligible. So their national championships were nullified - do you remember them winning the national championship? No you don't, according to the NCAA - scholarships revoked, and coaches fired. The program is dead.

The university president (Fred Thompson) decides to rehab the school's rep by hiring Ed "Straight Arrow" Gennero (Hector Elizondo), a retired coach known for not tolerating any sketchy stuff, even if it means kicking a star player off the team. That's why he's retired, boosters don't approve of principles. But this shattered husk of a program has no boosters, so Gennero gets to run the program as he sees fit. He brings in his old defensive coordinator, Wally Rig (Robert Loggia) to help turn a bunch of walk-on students into a football team.

Unfortunately, none of the walk-ons with good enough grades to survive the obnoxious dean's (Larry Miller) attempts to kill the team can play quarterback, so Wally recruits Paul Blake (Scott Bakula), who walked away from football 16 years ago to run the family cattle ranch, to play QB. As a 34-year-old freshman. Who smokes, a lot, and runs like a guy who smokes a lot and spent the last decade-and-a-half wrangling large, stubborn cattle.

Can Blake be the leader Gennero wants? Can he get this group of oddballs to play together and experience victory?

I did, technically, discuss this movie briefly in the opening paragraph of a comic review post back in 2009, but it wasn't really a proper review. Now, does this movie merit a proper review? Well, at least as much as any number of shitty movies I watched on Netflix over the years.

This movie is like Escape to Athena, where it's as much about what a bonkers cast it has as anything the movie itself actually does with that cast. Escape to Athena is better, having the advantage of being a suspenseful adventure set in World War 2. That's a stronger base for a story. Necessary Roughness is ultimately just a sports comedy, but it's full of people where I can stop and go, "Hey, That Guy!"

Besides the people listed above, you have early career Jason Bateman as the spoiled son of a major donor to the university. Sinbad plays a professor that walked away from college football to pursue chemistry. Blake convinces him to use his last year of eligibility to play offensive and defensive line. Rob Schneider is the team's radio announcer (we only ever see him in the broadcast booth, and he never directly interacts with anyone else, which is probably the best way to use Rob Schneider.) Desperate for a field goal kicker, Wally recruits Lucy (Kathy Ireland) from the girl's soccer team. Harley Jane Kozak plays an Intro to Journalism professor that had a crush on Blake when they went to rival high schools, and the two start up a relationship. While she's one of his teachers.

Which, look. In addition to Miller playing a snotty little tin dictator of a bureaucrat as he so often has, the dean is panting after Dr. Carter, and absolutely determined to crush the team by hook or crook. That said, I don't think he's wrong there are ethical concerns about a teacher dating a student, even if they're both in their 30s. Especially when the student's participation in an extra-curricular is contingent on his grades staying up, though the one example of Blake's work we hear in a class assignment demonstrates a thoughtfulness that suggests he's at least trying to be a good student.

(Also, Bakula is 37 when the movie came out, so he's at least close to 34, unlike all the movies and shows where a 28-year-old plays a high schooler.) 

The rest of the roster is filled with various broad characters. Manu, a big Samoan guy that plays center and initially annoys Blake by treating him as an elder to be respected. (Blake's response: 'I'm not that eld.') A bull-riding farm boy. A pair of twins that spend a lot of time fighting each other. An ROTC guy that's way too intense. A white boy really into martial arts that gets nicknamed "Samurai", and is the sole guy who only plays defense (Blake being the one who only plays offense.) A track star turned wideout who can't catch. An Aussie rugby player that doesn't want to wear pads or helmets. The Aussie gets knocked out in practice and Gennero admiringly observes he didn't drop the pass. Sure, only cost him a few thousand brain cells.

The movie has a lot going on. Probably too much. My dad said once it feels like a pilot for a TV show that got turned into a movie instead. Blake and Carter's relationship. Blake trying to figure out what, exactly Gennero is trying to get from him. Rig trying to get at little respect as a coach (his only offer prior to this was to coach football at a girl's school. In England.) Bateman's thing with his dad. The dean's attempts to cut the team off at the knees. Manu and Lucy strike up a relationship almost immediately, Manu trying very hard to be chivalrous. Not that I can blame him, hustling to make time with Kathy Ireland.

There probably could have been something about Lucy trying to prove herself to a team full of guys. When she's showing off her ability to kick (showing really terrible form, she's moving flat-footed), Sinbad opines this is what happened to pro wrestling, women taking over. Yeah, and once we got past the obnoxious bra-panty match shit (and Jerry Lawler's brain-dead drooling over same) it kicked ass. 

As it is, the team sucks so bad they can't afford to turn down any help they can get, though Gennero is still reluctant to even let her on the field to attempt a game-tying field goal. Because he's afraid she'll get hurt. Typically kickers don't get hit much. There are penalties for it and everything. 

There's the sole holdover from last year's team, a walk-on named Charlie Banks, who still can't get on the field for a team that's resorted to having 10 guys play both offense and defense. You think they'd at least try giving those guys the occasional breather, risk playing the few other players they have. Especially when they're losing games 40-6. Apparently Gennero's in the Tom Thibodeau school of coaching that says you aren't trying to win unless you grind your best players into dust by playing them constantly.

So some things get more run than others. Bateman's issues with his dad just buying his way through trouble crops up very briefly near the start of the final third of the movie, but there's really nothing to set it up beyond Gennero telling Rig that the dad's name is on buildings all over campus.

The Gennero and Blake issue surfaces periodically. I can't really figure out what Gennero is looking for any more than Blake can. (Carter at one point suggests simply asking Gennero. Blake responds that a coach can't speak to a player like he's human.) In their first game, Gennero calls the same running play three times in a row, the first two attempts being disasters. When the huddle groans on the third time, Blake changes the play to a deep pass to Featherstone, the track star. It would have been a touchdown, except Featherstone can't catch. Gennero benches Blake for the rest of the game. When Blake tries prostrating himself the next day, promising to just run whatever Gennero calls so long as he can play, promising it's Gennero's team, Gennero says it has to be Blake's team, but won't explain that.

Which I guess is not speaking to him like he's human, but more like some sage or hermit on a mountaintop, talking in riddles. I mean, Blake tried to make it his team, by calling a play that might actually work, and Gennero immediately punished him.

Blake tries joining the team at a bar after another loss, tries keeping them out of a fight with the star linebacker of the #1 team in the nation, the Texas Colts, until said linebacker - appropriately named Flattop - insults Manu. Blake sticks up for his center, by starting a brawl. That's no good either. When they manage a not-loss and Bateman's dad invites the team to a party with champagne and nice jackets, Gennero shows up screeching about boosters and not accepting gifts. Blake (already in a bad mood because the dean caught him making kissy face with Dr. Carter) tells him to back off, and Gennero gets on his ass again.

I think Gennero wants Blake to get the entire team rowing in the same direction, but none of his attempts are apparently acceptable until Blake gets Sinbad to help Bateman actually study to pass his midterms. Which are happening awfully late in the semester to be taking place ahead of their final game, against, naturally, the Texas Colts. This is also the conclusion of Bateman's character's arc. He refuses to give his dad the chance to bail him out, because it would hurt the team if one of the players got their grades paid for.

Loggia gets the best lines. Early on, it's sarcastic asides to things Gennero says. Featherstone drops a pass in practice and Gennero tells him to keep his eyes on the ball. Rig adds, 'Keep your hands on the ball, too.' When Gennero tells him to keep his nose out of Gennero's offense, Rig replies, 'You got a quarterback that can't throw the ball, we're gonna be playing a hell of a lot of defense.'

During the climactic game, where Rig has to be head coach, it's things he shouts. 'Don't throw it to Stone Hands!' is one my dad still quotes, but the best is probably Rig's halftime speech where he stops trying to act like the polite and intellectual coach he thinks people want and starts screaming about how you play winning football. 'You go out there and tear off their fucking heads and shit down their necks! *pause* Now let us pray.'

It's funny neither coach seems very good at the half of the ball they're in charge of. Gennero seems to favor an offense that runs the ball. Wins in the trenches, controls the clock. The team is not built for it. The offensive line can't handle it, and their running backs crash into each other a lot. Plus, for all Blake's limitations in mobility (he gets better as the season progresses), the dude's arm is legit. Bateman and the Australian rugby guy can at least catch the ball if Featherstone can't. So can Charlie Banks. Throw the fucking ball! Go West Coast Offense, short, timed passing game, with Blake zipping it into tight windows and the receivers using their shiftiness to gain additional yards after the catch.

Meanwhile, Rig is a defensive coordinator, but can't recognize what defensive coverage the Colts are using at one point, and has to ask Popke, the back-up QB who thought being asked to show off his arm meant flexing. Late in the game, it's Gennero who figures out what defense to call to stop a Colts' drive and get the Armadillos the ball back.

Like I said several paragraphs ago, it's a sports movie. The team is losing big in the climactic game, then turns it around after Rig's inspiring speech, with trick plays and some other big stuff. I do laugh when, prior to the final play, Manu promises Blake that they'll (meaning the Colts' defense) never touch him. Blake probably wishes you could have managed that any time in the previous 59 minutes and 59 seconds, because he's taking head shots on almost every play. By the end of that game, Blake probably had fewer brain cells left than the rubgy guy.

It doesn't reinvent the wheel in any particular way, and feels both overstuffed and undercooked, but there are some funny lines and it plays the usual beats well enough that I don't mind spending 100 minutes on it. 

What I Bought 8/12/2026 - Part 2

As I begin another no doubt exhausting week as Emergency Unit Chief - I'm 20 minutes into my term as this post goes up, so I'm probably still sifting through last week's e-mails - we look at the two comics from last week. A pair of 7th issues, books that narrowly avoided the ax in July.

D'Orc #7, by Brett Bean (writer/artist), Frank William (colorist), Nate Piekos (letterer) - Dual-wielding a shield and a headless chicken. Bold choice, Cotton, let's see if it works for him.

D'Orc, the shield and the chicken fall into the Boglands. D'Orc's still reeling from the angry dwarf's "I am your father!" reveal last issue, and wanders about until he finds a cabin. Where a polite woman named Mylinda offers him tea, and the door is kicked in by bog monsters. Which are repelled by the tea, just like I would be.

D'Orc seems smitten with Mylinda, so he sticks around to help repair her door, and fend off more bog monsters. Mylinda kicks the chicken and the shield out to find ingredients for more tea, then drugs D'Orc with a candle. Because she's a succubus. Man, no luck at all for this kid. Chicken and shield are approached by the bog monsters, who are what's left of her past victims, including her first love, Charles. Chicken animates his body and guides Mylinda into the water, leaving the trio to press on again. Except now there's an angry golem-woman on their tail.

D'Orc can't find anyone that's not trying to use him. Even those not actively trying to kill or harm him, like the Bone Witch, want him alive to take revenge for them against someone else. There was Barry in issue 4, I suppose. He wasn't out to harm D'orc or get anything from him, but he also wasn't really helping him. Everyone who lends one hand is concealing something in their other. Which is a depressing state of affairs. He can't find anyone that is simply willing to help another person?

I mean, it's not like the shield or the chicken have much choice. One can't move on its own, the other wouldn't get far with a headless body. I don't know what Bean's trying to say with that state of affairs. The people on both sides are too concerned with "good" and "evil" as abstract concepts that are absolute, and miss the spirit of what doing good (or evil) really is? I may have to wait until D'Orc spends a little more time on the dark side of the scar, then compare who he met there versus the light side.

Bean does a good job on Mylinda's initial design, making her look unassuming. Some of it's the big eyes, and the wiggly, uneven line he uses for her mouth. Plus her tendency to make herself look small. Lean on a railing, or hold her arms in close to her body. Makes her look shy or a bit awkward, like she's worried about D'orc taking offense and leaving. Which she was, in a way. Nothing suspicious to see here! She's just oddball who likes living in this swamp, even with the frequent bog monster attacks.

He also mostly draws her and D'orc's interactions in profile up to that point, so that they're on the same level, even if she's taller. But when things shift, Bean either uses her bangs to shade her eyes ominously, or angles the perspective so she's looming over D'Orc. Of course, D'Or's also drugged unconscious by that point, which is ominous enough on its own.

Generation X-23 #7, by Jody Houser (writer), Marco Renna (artist), Erick Arciniega (color artist), Ariana Maher (letterer) - Awwww, look who's front and center on the cover like he's still a sales draw. Who's the angry Canadian that still thinks it's 1993?

Laura and Gabby come home to find Logan bleeding on their floor, though he apparently didn't expect them to still be living there. Nor did he know they'd picked up some new boarders. Logan downplays his lack of a healing factor, because he's a man and that's what we do. Curiously, nobody mentions the set of broken claws. I guess it's obvious the claws wouldn't grow back if there's no healing factor, but you'd think the lack of adamantium would raise questions.

The Generated are listening in, and finally barge in when the conversation turns to them. They want to return to the Facility and explore. Learn more about themselves, and how much of what X-Infinite told them was true. The Snikt Squad reluctantly agree to take them back, where they find a bunch of dead humans, and that some of the Laura-bots have been rebuilt. There's a fight, and in the process, they find the Orphan-Maker. Which means Nanny's around, stealing genetically-altered mutant babies. Because apparently there was an entire nursery ward nobody found the last time.

We get to see the Generated help in the fight, and they seem to have gotten a little more comfortable since last issue. Which is strange, considering it's been one day since then. Maybe fight unliving robots is easier, but Port and Time Bomb combine their powers effectively, and Surprise! (she insists on the exclamation point) doesn't hesitate on what to shift into, and works up a combo with Scout.

Renna illustrates the fight pretty well, although it's funny to see Logan slashing at robots with his busted-ass bone claws. Or was he punching them? On the other hand, Nanny's Mr. Potato-head press-on lips were terrifying. When did that get added to her look? Admittedly, I'm not sure I've read a comic with Nanny in it since Storm got de-aged to a kid back in the Claremont/Jim Lee days, but I do not remember fake lips being part of the package. Does Nanny think they make her more acceptable to children?

Sunday Splash Page #440

"Tremors," in Atomic Robo: The Vengeful Dead #5, by Brian Clevinger (writer), Scott Wegener (artist), DJ Chavis (colorist), Jeff Powell (letterer)

After Dawn of a New Era, Clevinger and Wegener switched from monthly physical comics to a strictly online release. Which has never been my jam, and since the website requires I either subscribe or drop my ad blocker, neither of which are things I'm wont to do, I was at a bit of an impasse. Fortunately, they do release hardback collections of the mini-series. The Vengeful Dead is the only collection they have from after Dawn of a New Era from what I can tell on their website. Since I don't know when there might be another, let's talk about this.

Vengeful Dead finds Tesladyne mourning the apparent death of Bernard, while also trying to render their dimension - or at least their Earth - immune to attacks from the Vampire Dimension. Foley is still trying to get the students - now including ALAN - to learn to work as a team. Jenkins is trying to prepare everyone to fend off an invasion. Robo is trying to fend off Richard Branson's continued grousing about the noise.

(One thing I'll note here, Wegener draws Branson in a way that I found recognizable. I have a general idea of what the guy looks like, noticeable beard, vaguely leathery face, and this version is close enough. In Dawn of a New Era, Vik and Lang thwart Branson's HOA shenanigans by getting the other member, Twitter/SpaceX Boy, to vote in their favor, under threat of not letting him use Tesla's name for his cars. Wegener's version looks nothing like the actual putz. Not sure why.)

The students struggle to focus on both their actual assignment - improve the output of the facility's solar array - and what is mathematically possible for them to achieve. I still struggle keeping their names straight beyond Ben being The Guy, but they're at least developing more distinct personalities. Margot's the overachiever/perfectionist, Ben's easily distracted and sarcastic, Olivia's morally flexible and a little cynical. It's something.

The best bit is the friendship between Jenkins and ALAN. They spend a lot of time monitoring the vampires' attempts to breach the protective barrier around the planet, and Jenkins eventually gives ALAN a codename: Laughing Scorpion. Because he's funny. By Jenkins' standards. It's fun to see Jenkins' hyper-serious, all-go no-quit, attitude played off ALAN's knowledgeable but naive perspective. Because ALAN is either asking honest questions that sound sassy, or clever enough to disguise his sass within those questions:

Jenkins: Did you have an exit strategy for disobeying my orders?

ALAN: Are you asking because you didn't have an exit strategy for obeying them?

Jenkins: That's classified.

The vampires are not only repelled through ridiculous science, they can, I think, safely be written off as a threat going forward. This via an entirely different bit of ridiculous science. Ridiculously awesome science. And don't Neil Degrasse Tyson me about cheapening the word, if someone could actually pull that stunt off, it would be awe-inspiring. An artificially designed ley line field, powered by the Earth's motion around the Sun, hurling a bullet train through a breach in dimensions at nearly the speed of light at a planet full of vampires.

Except if this happened in our world, they'd probably screw up, hit Earth and doom us all. That aside, I especially like the panel where it shows what's happening, with a strikethrough the words "Vampire Earth."

Bernard shows up looking like he escaped one of Jack Kirby's stranger stories. Given the character commanding the vampires was introduced with Bernard (in volume 4, Other Strangeness), it's fitting. How far both of them have come from that point where their paths first, briefly, crossed. ALAN gets to learn some things about living among humans he never expected, or probably wanted, to learn. And, if the final panel is any indication, Tesladyne is set to get a new instructor/headache.

Most of the vampires are an indistinguishable mass, but the only one that really matters is Vampiricus Rex, so that's fine. Wegener draws him as appropriately beefy to look good tossing Robo around like a sassy sack of laundry. The rest are just there as a general threat the others have to fend off until the plan can take effect. The stuff that matters is there in loving detail from Wegener and Chavis, whose colors are a lot brighter than some of the later IDW mini-series were. Colors in those tended towards muted, often muddy tones, that sometimes overwhelmed Wegener's pencils entirely. Maybe he just has more time this way to focus on individual pages, but Wegener's art is pretty strong here. He's refined his style to where it's more efficient, a bit simpler, but still detailed in the places it needs to be.

Saturday Splash Page #242

"Dark of the Moon," in Vengeance of the Moon Knight (vol. 2) #1, by Jed MacKay (writer), Alessandro Cappuccio (artist), Rachelle Rosenberg (color artist), Cory Petit (letterer)

The first volume of Vengeance of the Moon Knight - which I usually forget exists - came out in 2009, after volume 3 of Moon Knight. Which I bought for 11 issues, but retain only 1, which has no splash pages, and therefore did not get a Sunday Splash Page entry. This volume follows on from Jed MacKay's volume of Moon Knight, which I tagged as volume 8, and concluded with Marc Spector getting blown to bits.

With Khonshu imprisoned in Asgard, there's no bringing Marc back. So the rest of the cast - Reese, Soldier, Hunter's Moon, Tigra and 8-Ball - are trying to carry on the work of the Midnight Mission in his stead. Well, Tigra is really more intent on hunting down Black Spectre for killing Marc - though I'm pretty sure Zodiac took care of him - but in theory, they continue to protect those who travel at night and whatnot. Except, who's this guy in the palette-swapped outfit calling himself Moon Knight and beating the crap out of criminals?

The new guy's identity is the mystery of the first few issues. Once he demonstrated his powers in issue 2, I had him figured. I was even right about it, which was nice.

MacKay returns to the approach of inserting flashbacks of events between excerpts of conversations with Marc's psychiatrist, Dr. Sterman. Except it's a different character each issue. Reese in issue 1, Tigra in issue 2, Hunter's Moon in issue 4, and so on. A way to explore not only how each of them is handling Marc's death - Tigra, poorly, the others varying degrees of better - but what he meant to them.

(In the first issue, we see in flashback that, since Marc was Jewish and none of them knew what to do, Reese contacted Ben Grimm for help with the rites. Because Ben, as Mr. Knight mentioned at one point in MacKay's first volume, always sent Marc a card at Hanukkah. So Reese is trying to honor what she can of Marc's heritage. That was a nice little scene that I enjoyed.)

Then the book gets, should I say hijacked? Diverted maybe, into Blood Hunt tie-ins. Which, for those who can't keep track of Marvel's baker's dozen of events a year, was the one where someone hijacked all the Darkforce users' powers to blot out the sun worldwide, and vampires ran amok. Something to that effect. Vampires prey on night travelers, Fists of Khonshu are supposed to protect night travelers, one fist (Hunter's Moon) is apparently not enough, and so, they need Marc back. Which means freeing Khonshu. From Asgard jail. Well, shit, Loki escapes from there all the time. How hard can it be?

Alessandro Cappuccio draws the first 5 issues, and 7 in total. His work, with Rosenberg's colors, is much the same as it was in Moon Knight. Thin, sharp lines. Minimalist on the backgrounds, unless it was a particular setting like Sterman's office. New York City feels like a very sterile, empty place in Cappuccio's world. Rosenberg sticks to solid blocks of color for the surroundings, and leaves the shading for the characters. The world doesn't have much give in it, and the characters deal with that by closed themselves off in certain ways. Focused, in denial, deflecting with humor, diving into anger.

Devmalya Pramanik draws the other two issues, and is trying to find his footing with the characters. The designs are little rougher, proportions wonky at times, though some of that is Pramanik gets more creative with the perspectives and page layouts. But the characters are more detailed, a wider range of expressions that run towards exaggeration but don't go over the line, or at least not far over the line.

End result - and how they bust Khonshu out is clever, in the sense it makes me grin - Marc's alive again, vampires are defeated, and then he has to deal with the imposter. I guess because they're using his title and not Hunter's Moon's. That's where the volume ends, at 9 issues, and the next, which we might reach by year's end, begins.