Saturday Splash Page #250

"Forced March", in The Surgeon #6, by John Pence (writer), Omar Zaldivar (artist), Hedwin Zaldivar (colorist), Taylor Esposito (letterer)

Another 2025 mini-series. The Surgeon is set 15 years after some sort of climate disaster. Humanity has started to pick itself up again. At least, some of the folks living on the surface are doing that. The wealthy are living in FallOut-style bunkers underground. What, they couldn't get their asses to Mars and die there like ambitious pricks?

Jenny Hanover is the surgeon in question, someone who earned her medical degree before civilization collapsed, but hadn't established a career enough to pay off student loans, let alone afford to go underground. At least she doesn't have to worry about the loans now! She roams the frontier on her ill-tempered horse Paint, trading expertise for food or supplies. Since it's not an easy world for someone traveling alone, she's a pretty hardcore fighter, fully able and willing to hack through enemies with her saber.

Responding to a request for a medic on "Craigslist" - a series of watch towers - brings Hanover to Turtle Island, a fort community somewhere in the western half of the U.S., led by a variety of people with useful skills. Dr. Martinez is an engineer, Rogers is a Marine, Smithy knows forging, Ben knows chemistry, especially fermentation. Hanover sets up shop, saving a little girl from appendicitis during a tornado right off the bat. The community celebrates with a big party, and Hanover is goaded into making several promises while drunk. The community's rule is "word is bond," so she's on the hook. This includes training what passes for their militia in hand-to-hand combat, since Rogers knows marksmanship, not swordfighting.

That's one of those things Pence sort of hints at without discussing in depth. Mentions of learning from people who taught Chinese farmers to fight the Japanese, but other times saying she wasn't trained so much as she just learned. Like her discussions of different types of storms, or what conditions are like in the eastern half of the country. Alluding to her lengthy history surviving the apocalypse.

(Of the three pencilers the mini-series has - Zachary Dolan for issues 1 and 2, Stan Yak for issue 3, Omar Zaldiver for issues 4 thru 6 - Dolan does the best at drawing her as someone with years of experience who's been living rough. She graduated med school before society collapsed, and it's been 15 years since then. She's got to at least be in her 40s, but Yak and Zaldiver minimize her scars, give her shiny smooth hair, pretty her up a lot. Dolan's version smiles bigger, groans and stretches and slumps. Her hair is stringier, her skin's darker and lined, like she gets a lot of sun and doesn't have a lot of opportunities to bathe.)

There's a need for training, as the fort is soon targeted by a group Hanover is acquainted with, Fury Road rejects calling themselves "Hot Animal Machines." Seems like a contradictory name, but their motto is also, 'everyone dies tonight, or dies trying,' so we are not dealing with geniuses here.

Turtle Island wins the battle, a violent and bloody one with Hanover as the point of the spear (or the edge of the sword) but can't drive the invaders away solely by force of arms. Not without more casualties than they're prepared to accept, anyway. To win the war, they fight dirty, offering opium laced with warfarin. That gets the attention of the United First Nations, especially this she-devil doctor with a sword. Hanover manages to talk herself out of trouble, offering to help Chief Long and his people rescue others being sold as slave labor to the wealthy underground (in exchange for fresh drugs.)

Then she breaks her word and runs off with the chief's nephew. That decision doesn't turn out well for anyone.

Running through the book is the notion of ideals or creeds. The gap between what people say they believe in and what they do when the chips are down. Hanover explains the concept of triage to a young man at the fort named Abner, who shows interest in becoming a healer. That if a patient is beyond saving, she lets them die, to put that energy and resources towards someone that has a chance. If the patient has a chance, then she has to do all she can to help them, including remove an appendix during a tornado.

This becomes a sticking point between them, and to an extent between her and Turtle Island in general. Rogers is wounded during initial contact with the Hot Animal Machines. Arrow in the shoulder. He gets hooked on opium during the recovery; Pence does a nice bit where Rogers' internal narration agrees he should switch to liquid aspirin, but then he says aloud he's still in too much pain. It gets bad enough, he swipes some of the tainted opium without realizing it.

Hanover gives him all the blood she can, then leads Abner and some others out to see if the Hot Animal Machines took the bait. Which leaves her ill-equipped to fight when Chief Long's guys get the drop on her. After negotiating her release, she braves a torrential downpour, at night, to get back to the fort and check on Rogers. Abner sat around drinking and playing cards with the First Nation guys. Where was the commitment to healing? To Abner, it's not a 24/7 thing, he just wants to know how to patch someone up and then go on with his life.

Martinez keeps talking about "word is bond," and Hanover plays by those rules. She gives Turtle Island everything she agreed to - while heavily intoxicated - and more besides. The terms of agreement didn't say she would fight a war for them, or compromise an oath by offering tainted drugs, but she did that too. She fulfilled her terms of the deal, but Martinez gets pissed when she decides to leave, and when Paint brings her back, badly wounded, says to let her die. Smithy, the only one who points out she did as promised, disagrees and takes care of her himself.

Little Bird seduces her, then steals her sword and Paint. Partly as revenge for not letting him die of a wound, partly because that was how he interpreted his uncle's stories about counting coup to prove you're a warrior. Chief Long is not impressed, correctly noting Hanover is not someone you want for an enemy.

Not that Hanover is above breaking her word or bending her ethics. Maybe "do no harm" went out the window the first time she had to kill in self-defense, but she still raises it as an objection to the tainted opium, then goes along with the plan. She promises to help Chief Long on his rescue mission, then bails with Little Bird at the first opportunity, even though she seems to accept payment for aid she didn't provide.

And I think part of the conflict between her and Abner is a different notion of how to use medical knowledge. Hanover wanders, going where the work is. She's seen the world outside Turtle Island's log walls, and it's hardened her. She has at least 3 scars on her face and others on her arms. Probably more we don't see. She's missing a tooth, at least when Dolan draws her. She mentions not being able to use opium because she's addicted. She's probably performed uglier operations than that appendectomy in worse conditions than a tornado.

That's not Abner's goal. He wants to help the people of Turtle Island, and that's the extent of his interest. Maybe if someone rides up asking for help he'd offer, though he flatly declined to help Hanover when she returned, so maybe not. Maybe it is, as Hanover suggests, that he just liked the pretty idea of being a healer, and the reality is too ugly, too difficult for him. Or maybe he knows his limits. He wants to protect his world and the people in it, limited as that is.

Hanover seems willing to help people as she comes across them in need, or answer the call when it's put forth, but I'm not sure her world has anyone in it but her and Paint. Everything else is transactional. Which means, when she has nothing to trade, she's got nothing to rely on but someone's pity. If not for Smithy, she dies. Little Bird might be an asshole, but he's got friends. When she gets a shot at him, they ignore Chief Long and try to rescue their pal. Like I said, that doesn't end well for anyone. People get run over with wagons, bit by horses, take hatchets to the foot.

The mini-series doesn't end with any significant change in how Hanover's going to do things, either. She briefly considers going back to Turtle Island, but brushes it off after one panel. Can't imagine she's going to want to have any run-ins with the United First Nations going forward, and she and Little Bird made some enemies before he sprang his trap. Enemies everywhere, and no friends to be found. 

What I Bought 10/5/2026 - Part 1

Based on the Youtube ads, I think one of the guys running for governor in Iowa is actually from Kansas, and still lives there most of the time. Which really ought to be disqualifying. Run for office in your own state, shitheel! But apparently he was, prior to his, involved in politics in Montana. So the hierarchy of desirable political offices apparently goes, from best to worst, Kansas-Montana-Iowa.

The comics didn't arrive until Monday, so I didn't have time to prep either of the review posts before going on a long 3-day inspection trip. So I'm trying to write this Thursday, two hours after I got home. Let's see how that goes.

The Matron #3, by David Bowles and Drew Edwards (writers), Monica Gallagher (artist), Harry Saxton (color artist), Stephen Kok (letterer) - Well, now we know the Matron will hit (and kill) a guy wearing glasses.

The entire issue takes place in and around Zina's house, after she returns home from killing her former bosses. Except it's not Zina's home any longer, because her older brother, Cyril, sold the house under some bullshit eminent domain claim to the hated Maldonados. We get a quick flashback showing as the utterly selfish type who refuses to help anyone, but always shows up to help himself.

In this case, he was planning to help himself to a quarter-million dollars, which he was taking to Aruba with a new girlfriend, abandoning his own wife and children, along with Zina's. As a blizzard rolls in and the power goes out, Zina starts hearing that voice. Out comes the hatchet and the mask, out goes a large amount of blood from Cyril and the state employee unlucky enough to have drawn the assignment of delivering the check with relocation funds.

The rest of the family is horrified, until Zina makes a brief speech. Even when she's speaking in English, as opposed to, what I think is an Eastern European, or maybe Scandinavian language, Kok uses that same stylized font. And in one panel, Saxton tints her and everything around her red, versus the normal coloring for the two characters in the foreground. After which, everyone is totally on board with Zina murdering two people!

I realized during the drive home Thursday, the mini-series is half over, and I don't know what kind of story this is going to turn out to be. Is it a horror story, where the lovers from feuding families are doomed to destruction at the hands of some primeval force? Or are Sam and Ros going to represent some healing of the fissure that defies the thing driving Zina forward? Is Ros going to prove as susceptible to whatever mind-hoodoo Zina had going on as the rest of the family, or has she distanced herself enough to resist?

Vampyrates! #3, by Fred van Lente (writer), Luca Pizzari and Alberto Canale (artists), Adam Guzowski (colorist), Jodie Troutman (letterer) - I see she's smart enough to keep a grip on something. So many people go for the dramatic pose at the railing, only to fall into the sea when the ship hits an unexpected wave.

Captain Akeyo attempts to interrogate one of the prisoners from last issue's fight on the location of a place called Absolution. Unfortunately, the use of a "day-lens" designed to collect and magnify the little bit of sunlight present around the 1000 year eclipse, is imprecise, and the prisoner incinerated.

In the meantime, Akeyo's insistence on ignoring any ship that doesn't have Church officials is causing some discontent, and Longlocks tries getting Nira on his side for a mutiny. At the next port, as he tries recruiting more muscle, Nira sees her old Majordomo, who is looking to purchase a human similar enough in appearance to Nira that, once turned and killed, can be presented to the new Empress as proof the old Empress is dead. Nira, a little drunk, picks a fight and cleans house, but is stopped from killing the majordomo.

Which seems ill-advised, but it's a nice little fight. Smashes a bottle across one guard's face, backhands a thrown dagger into another's throat. Though Pizzari's faces seem to be rougher and closer to sketches with each issue. But they did draw a "ghost typhoon", which is just a fantastic bit of madness. Full marks on that. Sensational Concept of 2026. Pushing issue 4 back to November hopefully will allow Pizzari some breathing room.

What turns out to be more ill-advised is Nira alerting Akeyo to the brewing mutiny. Akeyo takes this as proof that Nira has no loyalty to anyone. Of course not, loyalty only runs one way. It's like blame, except it runs the opposite direction. So it looks like Nira's going to be roasted. And just as she was realizing maybe her subjects didn't actually love her. The epiphanies always come too late, especially as it turns out "Absolution" is an enormous ship. And it's just arrived.

I'm actually most curious what Nira will take from the fact her subjects largely don't care she was overthrown. She is exceedingly self-centered, so it's possible she'll decide to hell with them. But, I could also see her wanting revenge. To regain her throne as a means to put the boot to everyone. Which is probably the wrong lesson to learn, but I'm not sure she's a quick study.

Quicksand - Nella Larsen

Helga Crane is a teacher at a prestigious school for black children in the American South in the 1920s. But she isn't happy there, feels confined, constrained by a stuffy, limited way of thinking that she doesn't believe she could possibly change. So she leaves, first to Chicago, then New York, specifically Harlem, then Copenhagen. Back to Harlem, before finally ending up in Alabama.

Again and again, Helga arrives at a new place and feels certain that it's the place for her. Again and again, the novelty wears off and she finds herself feeling trapped. Disgusted with the people around her. Helga is of mixed race, a white mother, who fell for a black man who was an inveterate gambler that eventually abandoned mother and daughter both.

So Helga never feels at home, not for long. She grows frustrated with her friends in Harlem's constant focusing on race issues, on how her best friend there is adamantly opposed to the mixing of the races, unaware Helga is herself of mixed descent. She initially enjoys the attention she receives in Copenhagen, but quickly recognizes it's because she's considered a novelty, one her aunt and uncle are using in an attempt to social climb. The expectations eventually grow too much for her, and she finds she missing the culture of Harlem, which she previously grew to despise.

This was part of a collection of Larsen's two novels (I'll likely get to Passage next week.) There was an introduction by a Deborah McDowell that speaks about how much both books are about the struggle for black women to come to grips with their sexuality, or their feelings of desire. Like they are supposed to be desired, but not experience desire themselves? Like it was expected they'd want to sleep around with several men, to the extent some women were scorned for not doing so, but certain organizations of colored women considered that to be a big problem?

Seems like a damned if you do, damned it you don't, though I'm not sure Helga ever gets to the "do" part of the equation. Desire seems to be something she can't quite recognize or name or, perhaps, acknowledge in herself. She's engaged to another teacher at the school when the book begins, but she seems bored by him, and breaks things off easily. A painter in Copenhagen proposes, but Helga feels he initially made his intentions known in a disrespectful way, via an offhand comment he seemed to make more to the portrait of her he was painting. So she shoots him down, bluntly.

She eventually, desperate for a connection, falls for a southern preacher she meets in an wild church service in Harlem. that doesn't end well, as she's stuck pumping out child after child, growing steadily weaker. When she finally followed desire, she let it lead her into marriage, apparently the only acceptable expression, and has surrendered everything else she loved along the way. She vows to get out, but it seems a false hope. She's sunk too deep.

There is Mr. Anderson, who was the principal at the school. We first see them interact when she informs him she's decided to quit mid-semester and somehow, that interaction sticks with her. It's almost like kids on the playground, where Helga can't admit he stirs something in her, so she gets cross with him. She responds to his encouragements to stay and help make the school better with snippy remarks and later berates herself for not being more cutting. Yet they keep crossing paths, and her eyes keep being drawn to him. And when she thinks something is going to happen, and it doesn't, it crushes her. Throws her into the despair that leads her to the preacher and that particular disaster. I will admit I was never entirely clear what she saw in him that pulled at her like that, but given that she seems confused by the situation, that's appropriate.

Really, I felt like she was sometimes less interested in provoking desire in men than she was in simply provoking others. Contrary for the sake of it, which, as a contrary person myself, I can respect as a motivation. She liked dressing in brighter colors, those felt she felt set off well against her skin, at the school, against the headmistress' admonitions that darker colors were better. She likes at times dressing in outfits that could be considered a bit provocative for the setting in Harlem. But she gradually balks when her aunt and uncle encourage that same behavior in Copenhagen, buying her outfits and accessories - big bracelets and earrings - she finds too gaudy.

Probably because it feels like they're trying to play up that novelty by evoking the "jungle savage", and Helga often tries to reject that in herself. That was what drove her from Harlem the first time, disgust and shame at a part of her that responded to the music in the clubs like everyone else does. Maybe the provocation is because she never feels a part of any world. There is always some part of her that doesn't seem to fit, or that she can't reconcile herself to. She tries, at the end, to play the preacher's wife and mother. Tries to take the strength (solace?) the other women take, that God will provide them rest eventually, in the, 'by and by.' That doesn't last, and she comes to find the idea of black people taking comfort in White Christians' God laughable.

But it's not an idea she vocalizes to anyone, because there's no one she feels connected to. Always alone, always feeling that whatever others see in her, it's wrong. She's too flashy, she's too educated, she's too white, she's too sad, she's too picky. She feels alone, but she can't stop trying to not be alone, and it never works out. Until eventually she's got no more strength to try and find another place. It's not a happy ending, that's for certain. 

'Frankly the question came to this: what was the matter with her? Was there, without her knowing it, some peculiar lack in her? Absurd. But she began to have a feeling of discouragement and hopelessness. Why couldn't she be happy, content, somewhere? Other people managed, somehow, to be. To put it plainly, didn't she know how? Was she incapable of it?'

L.A. Story (1991)

Harris (Steve Martin) is the "wacky" weatherman for a Los Angeles news broadcast. It's a satirical, or maybe surreal, version of L.A. Harris says he's survived 7 heart attacks, all of them imagined. He works out in a stationary bike park, where running is prohibited. He and his current girlfriend leave for a get-together at the time they were supposed to arrive, and are the first to arrive. Everyone orders decaf, or decaf espresso, or double-decaf with a twist of lemon. One person mentions taking a class in the art of conversation, and when Harris confirms this, they reply only, "Yes."

Must be a minimalist art class. 

Harris is just going through the motions, save maybe his roller skating through art museums, but finds himself intrigued by Sara (Victoria Tennant), an English journalist who has just flown into town and doesn't behave like anyone else he knows. Before long, Harris' car abruptly breaks down in front of an electronic road sign which starts speaking in riddles.

I assumed it wanted him to get together with Sara, but then tells Harris to get the number of Sandy (Sarah Jessica Parker), the girl at the clothing store who helped him find a new pair of pants. Sandy seems very free-spirited, studying to be a spokesmodel, in an open relationship with some other guy and extolling the virtues of colonics for cleansing yourself. Harris sort of goes along with it all, but is never exactly enthusiastic, not that Sandy seems to mind. Meanwhile, Sara's ex Roland (Richard E. Grant) is trying to get back together with her, despite the fake she's clearly lukewarm on the idea, at best. I mean, if she was really on board, she would probably say so. Too bad Roland's not only clueless, but powerless in the face of an enchanted billboard.

I don't mind the magical realism aspects. The movie was up front this was not a realistic version of L.A. from the opening credits. All the neighbors walking down their driveways at the same time to get their newspaper and wave to each other, like they're living in some idyll. Harris getting around traffic by driving through people's fences while they wave to him. The billboard is fine, even if I resent it expecting me to decipher an anagram. I hate anagrams!

But I wasn't ever invested in Harris and Sara's romance. Maybe because Harris spends at least as much time with Sandy as Sara, even if Sandy is portrayed as very immature in some ways and Harris doesn't seem invested in her. Maybe because almost everything between Harris and Sara is from Harris' perspective. It feels like Sara is swept up in his wake, not unlike Harris with Sandy. She finds him fun, or at least funny. Possibly an interesting subject for an article. I never got the impression she loves him. More she doesn't want to get back together with Roland.

Harris is the one getting assistance from the magic billboard. When Sara tries to drop him off at his place, and her car starts rolling away, and Harris insists they just jump in and ride along, he's sure it's the billboard. Sara only knows the wacky weatherman is practically shoving her in her car and telling her to let it steer itself. Then he kisses her while she's trying to rationalize what happens, and does it again when she's still discussing induction after he stops kissing her.

Which was funny, I admit. The movie is definitely funny. Granting I haven't watched a ton of comedies this year, it's either this or Paint for movie that made me laugh the most. One of the newscasters gets a good burn on Harris about the fact this job is all a doctorate in the arts got him. There's an extended gag of Harris trying to get a reservation at a swanky new restaurant, that ends with him going over his finances with the Maitre D' (Patrick Stewart!). 'With these financials, you expect to order the duck?!' 

Harris getting into an impromptu shootout with another driver on the highway, his girlfriend asking if bullets go bad. Woody Harrelson's in a couple of scenes as Harris' boss, including a decent gag when he fires Harris as he steps in an elevator. Took me all of those scenes to recognize Harrelson. I forgot he used to have a lot of hair. Chevy Chase has a brief cameo where he is the butt of one of Stewart's insults. Not something I knew I needed, but which I quite enjoyed.

Training is Serious Business. Seriously Disturbing.

Yuto Takeda is trying to defend his junior welterweight title against that remorseless fighting machine, Yu. How's that going for him?

About as expected, then.

Volume 6 of The Boxer consists of the majority of Takeda's attempt at a title defense, before shifting gears to Yu's preparation for challenging middleweight champion, Fabrizio Santorino. The Takeda fight had already taken a bad turn when Yu demonstrated he could perfectly mimic Yuto's in-boxing fighting style. Except his superior athletic talent meant he could do it even better.

All Takeda's got is what's carried him this far: a relentless drive to keep trying, keep pushing. To prove he can do it. Secretly, to make his dad proud of him. JH shows repeated panels of different people looking on. A sick kid in the hospital, the young guy that gave up boxing after challenging Yu on his first day at the gym, and Yuto's high school friend, Yamaguchi, the one who ran away to work on a ship and, for a moment in the prior volume, looked like he was going to throw himself in the sea. Turns out he came home and opened a small store, got his mom into rehab. He thinks Yuto's doing this to show people like him not to give up, and doesn't want to see him take more punishment for that.

There's also Misaki, Yuto's coach and adoptive parent. She's watching Yuto keep getting up for more beatings and wondering if her friends would be angry how she raised their kid. If she should have pushed him away from boxing. There's a flashback to a conversation where Misaki, a little tipsy, admits she worries that, since he's put everything into the idea hard work will overcome, when Yuto finds the point that's not true, he'll break.

And then, I'm not sure what JH is going for. It seems Takeda, recalling that conversation, where Misaki told him to cherish life and not cling so tight to the burdens he puts on himself, lets go and. . .gets better at boxing? Allegedly, he's found "freedom", which means he's finally stopped worrying about the exact mechanics of how to throw punches or move, and is just doing it? His eyes start glowing, in a way that reminds Yu of Injae when he defied Bakesan.

And he shatters Takeda's jaw. I mean, I knew something like that was coming, so it's kind of whatever. Too many volumes still ahead for Yu to be moved by the spirit of loving athletic competition, or the bonds of brotherhood. What actually annoys me is, in a rage, Misaki attacks Yu. Except JH, who established Misaki is a gold medalist boxer, has her throw the stereotypical hysterical girl slap. The woman probably has a better jab than Takeda did! And fine, she's not going to hit Yu either way, but K steps in. K, who we are shown crying tears of joy as Yu nearly murders someone. Let Misaki hit him. There shouldn't be any "reflexes too fast" bullshit protecting that sociopath.

Anyway, another belt claimed, Yu moves on. Welterweight and Junior Middleweight are dispatched in a couple of pages. The Santorinos, Fabrizio and his older brother Marco, pose a different challenge. They like to play mind games. Bugging Yu's house, spreading rumors of tax evasion, paying a homeless guy to try and spill something dangerous on Yu while he's running. None of it does any good, though the fact Carmen, who works for K, moves in to watch over Yu produces an unexpected result.

No, not that she poisons him. Frankly out of nowhere, Carmen instantly catches feelings for Yu. Apparently it's been 5 years since K brought him in, but they've hardly been shown interacting. I have no clue the age gap, since Carmen was already working for K then. She starts encouraging him to smile (terrifying), or dress nicer. They go to an amusement park, which runs counter to her advice that they have to severely restrict Yu's interactions with anyone but her or K. It does lead to a chance meeting with Jean Pierre, the former lightweight champ, who has changed in the intervening years.

Except Carmen gets really catty with Stella, Jean Pierre's wife, which, eh. Stella's been shown as very dramatic, but it's still a weird look on Carmen. K agrees, as, dissatisfied with whatever changes he's seeing in Yu (and Jean Pierre noticed something different as well), he takes her off Yu-detail and replaces her with some Super Mario-looking guy. Too bad nobody told the Santorinos. . .

Sunday Splash Page #447

"Breakthrough," in Batman '89: Echoes #3, by Sam Hamm (writer), Joe Quinones and Stacey Lee (artists), Leonardo Ito (color artist), Carlos M. Mangual (letterer)

Set two years after the previous mini-series, Barbara Gordon is now a captain in GCPD, thanks the info Harvey had and Selina fed to her to take down crooked politicians. Barbara knows Bruce is Batman thanks to her father's journals (Gordon figured it out), but kept the secret so long as he put away the suit. And he has, for two years.

But now civilians are dressing up as Batman, and four of them have been killed by robbers that went berserk at the sight of the cowl. Barbara wants to know what Bruce knows about it. Too bad even Alfred hasn't seen Bruce in over a month. In what is surely an entirely unrelated development, the notorious mad bomber Firefly was just captured and remanded to the care of Dr. Jonathan Crane of Arkham Asylum.

This mini-series has a lot stuffed in it. Too much, probably. You've got Bruce Wayne impersonating a traumatized soldier-turned-terrorist he hunted down, because certain things in the man's manifesto reminded him of Hugo Strange, who apparently worked for Wayne, but recently died under suspicious circumstances. Crane is Strange's protege, and a rival of TV psychiatrist Harleen Qunizel (who I think Quinones bases visually on Madonna) and her "persona therapy."

Two of Strange's other patients are "Edward Nigel Maynard," who is the Riddler (but also a former soldier), and a guy named Desmond, another soldier, but hopped up on steroids and some kind of berserker fury drug. He's called "the Blockbuster." And there's another guy, someone Strange's soldiers found overseas who was urged to participate in the work. He's in a coma, and looks emaciated at first, then steadily regains musculature until he wakes up and walks out of the Asylum. He's very interested in Strange's work, and the improvements Crane made to Strange's drugs. It's Ra's Al Ghul, who I think is based on Ricardo Montalbahn. If so, hell yeah, good call by Quinones.

So it's sort of Batman Begins, but you've also got Winston Drake, who has not retired from crimefighting like Batman, in an outfit a bit like Nightwing's, with an entire crew of people who he calls "Nightwings" that help him out. That just sort of pops up as a thing in the last two issues. Barbara abruptly finds herself the subject of an Internal Affairs investigation. At some point we don't see, she refused to help Selina with something. So Selina set up a hidden bank account to make it look like Barbara was taking kickbacks. This seems to be Hamm's way to have her to ask Bruce for help, since she'd otherwise be antagonistic, but there's no resolution. She's not cleared.

And it's an origin story for Harley Quinn, who did some unethical stuff to get herself a regular TV show, only to get screwed by her producer and the station owner. She ends up needing Selina's help to escape an assassination attempt, and Selina promises to train her up in, not playing by men's rules, I guess.

And there's an element that Batman's maybe treating this whole thing, trying to stop Ra's from getting the fear toxin, as his last ride. Basically, Crane's fear toxin is the lineage of Strange's work that Wayne funded. That's what Batman's accomplished with all his work, his efforts to use fear as a force for change: drugs that could be horribly abused in the wrong hands. He tells Drake his method, getting the community involved, giving them a stake in protecting their homes by working together, is a better way of doing things.

Quinones does some fun stuff with the page layouts during the scenes in the asylum. Crane shows "Firefly" different images to assess his responses, and Quinones alternates rows of the images with a graph of either Bruce's heartrate or brain activity, showing his response or lack thereof. Painful memories are shown in panels shaded in red and outlined with thick black borders. There's one panel of Harley's producer, dosed on fear gas, trying to hide in the room that controls the camera feeds and seeing a dozen different versions of Harley dancing their ways out of the screen. 

Can't say Hamm and Quinones aren't doing their damndest to give us our money's worth, but there's just so much going on. It's a movie sequel experiencing bloat, or villain overload or whatever you call it when they start cramming too many antagonists into the third film in the franchise (though I guess this would be the fourth, if the prior mini was the third.) The Quinzel stuff and the fear stuff are woven through the entire mini-series. Crane studying fear to see how to use it further his drug work, while Quinzel uses her patients' issues for shock value to further her career as a TV personality. Each regards the other with contempt, but they're two sides of the same coin. Crane thinks Quinzel's a fraud, but he treats his patients as guinea pigs, hardly ethical.

So much of the rest feels like flyby, blink and you'll miss it, stuff. Little set-up, less payoff. Too important for just Easter eggs, but not developed. Batman  on a suicide run, dosing himself with the berserker drug when he confronts Ra's? Out of nowhere. Prior to that, he's talking about how they'll just have to deal with the possibility Barbara outs him if and when it happens. There's a brief scene where Bruce is frightened by the sight of his own costume, as though Crane's treatments affected him. Even though Bruce took a dose of something Strange designed for him that is essentially a mind-wipe drug. Not developed, unless you figure the idea was that, if he's even terrifying to himself, it's time for Batman to end. But he doesn't end. Not dead, not retired, not outed.

Barbara's working with them by the end of the mini-series, her problem of being framed for corruption not addressed. I have no idea if Maynard is on the loose, or what happened with Blockbuster. I don't know if Ra's is dead or not. If there was going to be another mini-series, maybe it's threads to be picked up later. As far as I know, that's not the case. Maybe not a surprise, given it took almost two years for the 6 issues to come out, including 9 months between issues 5 and 6.

Saturday Splash Page #249

"Here's Juggy," in The Thing (2025) #3, by Tony Fleecs (writer), Justin Mason (artist), Alex Sinclair (color artist), Joe Caramagna (letterer)

A 5-issue mini-series where Ben Grimm is approached by an old acquaintance - read: childhood bully - needing help locating his niece, whose mother was a girl Ben was friends with back then. Following the leads they've got takes Ben first to Daredevil's old foe the Gladiator, who seems out of sorts about something. More concerning, he has super-strength.

He finds Sara in Hammerhead's clutches, but recovering her is only half the problem. Hammerhead's working for Kingpin, and Fisk puts a $10 million bounty on The Thing's head, bringing a lot of villains who really ought to know better out of the woodwork. I mean, the Wrecking Crew? Sure, they're strong, and amoral enough to abduct a kid. But the Sinister Six show up and, I'm sorry, what did the Vulture or Kraven think they were gonna be able to do the Thing? To say nothing of Jigsaw, a guy whose superpower is, "only maimed, rather than murdered, by Frank Castle."

The smartest people in the entire mini-series are the Serpent Society, who hear about the bounty, realize it would be real dumb for them to try messing with The Thing, and sit the whole thing out. Which did not stop Nick Bradshaw from drawing Diamondback among the people attack the Idol of Millions on 3 covers. Not sure what that was about.

The point of the story is when to use power. Sara is a mutant, caught up in a scheme where powers get "scraped" so you can temporarily give those powers to someone else. Sara's been hurt and wants to hurt the person she holds responsible. Ben has to explain the difference between fighting to protect and fighting to hurt. That he does hit people, like those trying to abduct her, and he might be angry when he does it, or enjoy hitting them, but that's not why he's hitting them.

Fleecs has the Thing hold back a lot, taking hits from guys who, amped or not, aren't on his level, until he has to stop them. He lets Gladiator hit him several times while trying to talk him down, but when it comes down to it, he knocks the guy out in one punch. As he puts it to a too-confident Hammerhead in the last issue, 'You think I punch a guy in a pinstripe suit the same as how I punch the Hulk?!'

I don't know if we need him to explain that he uses "It's Clobberin' Time!" as his way of telling himself it's time to fight for real, but what the hell, he's trying to explain things to a traumatized kid. 

Fleecs also has the Thing keep trying to avoid fighting entirely once he's got Sara. Moonstone attacks, he hits her once and tries to bail, only to run into Rhino and Jigsaw. OK, run the other way, except Grizzly and Hate Monger are waiting. Try another direction, nope, Red Ghost and his Super-Apes. Try a fourth direction, here's the Sinister Six.  He's tries sticking to rooftops, or traveling at night. He doesn't actually fight the Juggernaut so much as distract him by throwing Black Tom down the street. Which was disappointing - I was really excited for that fight - but makes sense in context. He's not out to prove something, he's trying to get a kid to her mom. 

Ben's usually fighting with one hand, the other cradling Sara against his chest, shielding her. He's still a big guy covered in rocky plates, but Mason rounds his edges, the shoulders, the shape of Ben's head, which at least gives an impression of being softer than you'd expect. Mason also doesn't draw Ben as huge. He's bigger than Sara's uncle, or Bullseye, but stands eye-to-eye with the Wrecking Crew, is a full head shorter than the Kingpin, and Juggernaut's twice his size.

The end lands with a bit of a thud. Ben marches into the Kingpin's office, dumps Sara's uncle at his feet, yells a bit, then walks off in the pouring rain while Kingpin makes threats about owning the city. Ben's final line, 'Yeah? Well, you don't own Yancy Street,' is said to no one. He's far enough down the sidewalk Fisk isn't even visible in the background, so it's not really a comeback.

Yes, beating up the Kingpin, someone much weaker than the Thing, would go against everything he's said and done up to then. But he doesn't do anything to Fisk, like point out that trying to pick a fight with the FF, beloved by the public, is much different than messing with Spider-Man or Daredevil, who are viewed less favorably. There's no implication anyone but Hammerhead and his goons will be going to jail. Even if Sara's uncle has testimony that could link Fisk to the operation, and that seems unlikely since he was such a small fry Hammerhead felt confident he could rip him off, Ben just dumped him at Fisk's feet and walked away. Guess Marty's gonna sleep with the fishes next to that cabbie Fisk had killed to try and frame Matt Murdock!