Could Be A Quiet Christmas

Not a lot of new books in the December solicits, at least not that I'm likely to buy. Lilith: Blood and Burlesque is skipping that month. The Deadman wasn't in DC solicits, so either it was a mini-series, or it's also on a skip month. Vampyrates! #4 is pushed back from October to mid-November, so I'm guessing issue 5 will be out in December now.

Suppose I ought to be spending the money on presents for other people, anyway.

What's new? I was not expecting a comic by Shaq about a West African king turned slave turned pirate, but now we've got Black Caesar, from Archie Comics, no less. Am I going to buy it? No, but it was strange enough to merit mention.

Ablaze has Soldier X creative team Darko Macan and Igor Kordey releasing the first of a 3-volume story about Marshal Bass Reeves, titled Marshal Bass. Am I going to buy it? Maybe down the line, if I hear good things and it looks like they'll actually finish the project.

Abrams Comicarts is, I think, re-releasing volumes of Marjorie Liu and Sana Takeda's OGN, The Night Eaters, but re-titled as She Eats the Night? I think that's what's going on. The solicit said the book had been previously released, albeit by a different publisher, but I couldn't find anything matching the title.

In terms of things I would actually buy, it's Garth Ennis and John McCrea's Hitman: It Was the Nineties from DC, which appears to be a couple of new stories set somewhere during the original run.

What's ending? Chachu wraps up, and that's it.

And the rest: Batgirl is still dealing with David Cain's dropping by. Fantastic Four has the team's only chance to save the Earth from impossibly powerful aliens relying on Johnny's ability to bridge the language gap.

Marc Spector and D'Orc are on issue 11. Marc's West Coast reunion tour continues, while Brett Bean's spending an issue focusing on Chicken. Not exactly traditional for Christmas, but whatever meets your dietary requirements.

Which leaves the two books on issue 2. The Agony of Stars has a cop trying to investigate what these cop murders are about. Don't rush, make sure to thoroughly examine all the evidence. Take it home, sleep on it over a long weekend. In Friendly Neighborhood Mary Jane, is having trouble with her investor, Tony Stank. I really ought to spell his last name that way more often.

That said, I'm having second thoughts about that book. I got a closer look at the cover to issue 1, and I think MJ still has a symbiote, which is a strike, added to my doubts about Noto as an interior artist, added to Stank's presence as part of the cast. I guess there's still issue 3's solicit to win me over before the first issue actually comes out.

Evil Dead (2013)

Mia's (Jane Levy) brother and three of their friends have brought her to the old family cabin out in the woods to help her kick her drug addiction by going cold turkey. Of course, what David (Shiloh Fernandez) doesn't know, because he hasn't been around for years, is Mia's tried this before. It never lasts. As in, less than half a day. So their friends are prepared to keep Mia there by force.

A short time into the stay, while Mia's already complaining about an awful stench permeating the cabin, they find a locked room in the basement, full of dead cats and a book bound in human skin. One friend, like a dumbass, decides he should while away the hours reading from this book, going so far as to use pencil rubbings to find the words that were on pages that are missing from the book, and then read them aloud. People get possessed, people get maimed, people die, but David is determined to save his sister.

Couple of things working against this movie with me. One, the channel it was on just finished showing the original Evil Dead and Evil Dead II back to back, so I was hoping for Army of Darkness. I got this instead. Booo. Second, gore is the least interesting thing about horror movies to me. I can roll with it if you use it for comedy, which is probably why Army of Darkness is my favorite of the original trilogy. But gore and brutality for shock value? Doesn't do much for me. It's gross, sure. Turns my stomach? Probably. But scary? No. Hence Saw being the movie I deemed the worst I've ever seen in theaters, since gore was the edifice that entire sorry sack of ape shit hung on.

Maybe if you can make it relevant to the plot, but when Natalie takes off her arm with an electric turkey trimmer, and it doesn't actually keep her from getting possessed, then it's gratuitous. Great, you got to spray corn syrup all over the place. I'm sure that was a lifelong dream.

I don't know, I thought the movie would do more with the idea Mia was the one most aware there was something wrong, but the others dismissed it as withdrawal talking. But she's the first one possessed, and things go to the extreme too quickly to waste time on that sort of uncertainty. Once she's scalded herself so badly her flesh is peeling off, they can't worry whether she's possessed or just jonesing.

Also, it seems weird this is apparently their family's cabin, and they spent enough time there for Mia to have photos all over a wall, but neither she or David comment on the rusted remains of Ash's car, and David seems completely stunned there's a door to a basement under the rug in the living room. Yet they both knew about the little hollow under the three that could let them climb into the tool shed.

That said, the complicated relationship between Mia and David is the strongest part of the movie. The others are really just there for plot reasons and/or to up the body count. They need Eric to be the curious idiot who unleashes forces he doesn't understand, and Olivia has the medical training and access to various drugs, but beyond that, it isn't as though the film lingers over their deaths.

But Mia and David have this whole thing where David is guilty about the fact he ran in the past, leaving Mia to deal with her grief alone, in self-destructive ways. Mia can't really bring herself to trust him because of that. The words are nice, the birchwood necklace is sweet, but will he actually be there when she needs him? And what would that mean? Certainly Eric sees David's unwillingness to give up on saving Mia when she's vomiting black bile and looking like she just popped over from The Exorcist as another example of him running away from things he doesn't want to face. Same as how he balked when Eric and Olivia said they were prepared to keep Mia here until she got through it, no matter what.

Also, yelling at David probably helps distract Eric from how this is his fault. Remember kids, curiosity is bad! Pursue knowledge and all you'll catch are suffering and death!

I could see David taking the most dangerous approach to getting rid of the spirit as another symptom. A live burial means he's got to go into the basement and fight his possessed little sister, and hope sedatives still work on her when something he doesn't understand is animating her body. The repeated shots of him getting thrown around the basement into stone walls somehow felt the most like the original films to me. They aren't meant to be funny, but there was something vaguely comic about it. I suppose because it sure looks like his big plan to save his sister has crashed on the reef of him getting his ass kicked. The over-confidence of Ashley Williams in quite possibly an even dumber vessel.

But he was willing to risk his own life to try that plan. Lighting the house on fire and bailing, as he originally planned, from his perspective, would have been him abandoning her again. Of course, if he'd failed, then the demon kills him, that's five souls, the skies turn red, DC runs another Big Event with the word "Crisis" in it. The usual apocalyptic shit.

The burning tree suddenly being snuffed out was a nice touch. One of thosethings that could be read glass half-full or half-empty. That lightning strike sure was ominous, the fire being gone is probably good! Or the fire was hope because it gave David the idea, and now it's gone, oh no! Or, the demon's playing a little joke, faking David out. That was my guess. He'd dig Mia up and surprise, still possessed!

As random note to close on, Evil Dead offered a very different perspective on the efficacy of nail guns as weapons compared to The Equalizer, which I caught most of the night before. Denzel pretty much removed the main bad guy, a hardened ex-Spetsnaz sociopath, as a threat with a couple of nails to his arms. In Evil Dead, Eric, who is definitely a nerd and a total loser, gets five nails in the chest and a bunch more in the arms, and he's still able to move around and use guns and whatnot. Maybe David's family cheaped out and bought a low-grade model that lacked oomph. Needed to get the exclusive S-Mart model!

Some of the emotional beats worked, some of the visuals were good - the blood rain was cool - it was just wrapped up in a level of mutilation I didn't enjoy.

A New (Lunatic) Challenger has Entered the Fray

That's standard for arranged marriages, isn't it? Lots of contracts? 

Volume 7 of Yakuza Fiance is split between two stories. In the first, Kirishima asks Yoshino to accompany him to a visit to his family. Specifically his great-aunt Sumire. Sumire has a pretty sharp tongue, especially towards Kirishima, and is stunned he has a girlfriend, let alone the granddaughter of her no-good Yakuza brother's old buddy, who Sumire clearly sees as a bad influence.

More interesting is her conversation with Yoshino about Kirishima. He apparently showed up at the family home one day, and burned every photo of himself. Why is unclear at this point. Sumire also offers more about the incident from Kirishima's childhood where he beat the crap out of a bunch of other kids. Sumire knows it was more than them bullying Kirishima and demanding money, because he kept a record of it, and not in the sense of wanting evidence for a later court case.

Kirishima ends up in Gaku's orbit not long after, when Sumire pushes him at Gaku during his grandfather's (Gaku and Sumire's brother) funeral. Kirishima's parents just, gave up on him, and later divorced. Well, OK. Kind of odd. Seems like a shortcut to explain why they aren't around, without going the "they're dead" approach Konishi used with Yoshino's father. Sumire doesn't seem to have a high opinion of Kirishima, and even advises Yoshino to leave if she really doesn't want to stick with him, but also hopes he'll have someone like Yoshino in his life.

I'm a little surprised that, when pressed on why she likes him, Yoshino can only say he's a hard worker. I figured she'd say something about how, even if he drives her nuts, he's always authentically himself. Anyway, somehow she impressed Sumire, so Kirishima's attempt to follow Tsubaki's advice (show Yoshino more of himself) worked! Yoshino even gives him a birthday gift!

Naturally everything goes to hell in the second half. While Kirishima is attending a funeral for some person, Yoshino is at a cram school prepping for exams. Kirishima gets distracted by what turns out to be Squirrel's Nest Hair stealing one of their guys' phone, so who appears to pick Yoshino up but Azami, the creepy guy with a scar that fought Kirishima a couple volumes ago.

There's a bunch of odd detours, which feel a lot like Konishi padding things out. Maybe it's supposed to humanize Azami, but given what comes next, that ain't happening. Long story short, he drugs Yoshino and she wakes up in a bathtub. Where Azami reveals his inner Silver Age villain. He was able to ditch her phone earlier, but assumes there's a tracking device on her. He has a jammer, but he's been turning it off periodically so someone, meaning Kirishima, could trail him here, at a pace of Azami's choosing.

And if she wasn't wearing a tracking device?! Well, that's the second part. Azami wants Yoshino to ditch Kirishima and return to Osaka, with Azami as her new beau. That way he can kill her grandfather, part of that power struggle Yoshino is largely unaware of (though there's a subplot through the entire volume of Shouma doing some investigating and gradually figuring it out.) Azami will kill Kirishima as a bonus. After all, her grandfather hired Kirishima to protect Yoshino, and Kirishima knew Azami was looking for her, but never warned her. What does she owe him? Suffice to say, Yoshino ain't going for that.

The fight doesn't exactly go well, though she certainly intends to go down swinging. Manages to break one of his fingers and short out the jammer. Would have appreciated if she actually did bite his tongue off entirely, though. Azami, knowing Kirishima's now coming right for him, gives her a chance to survive. If she can escape the building, he'll leave her be, for now.

Kirishima shows up during the escape attempt and runs right past Azami - who he has seen without a mask, so he must recognize him - to get to Yoshino. Which means, when he tries to get her out of there, Azami is able to put a knife in his shoulder, before they drop 3 stories. What the hell happened to beating the shit out of anyone that even looks funny at Yoshino, man?! The one time the damned lunatic actually needs to go berserk on somebody, and he doesn't. 

Sunday Splash Page #446

"Two Sides of the Coin," in Batman '89 #6, by Sam Hamm (writer), Joe Quinones (artist), Leonardo Ito (colorist), Clayton Cowles (letterer)

Reviewed a year ago, but briefly, the first mini-series continuing the universe of the Tim Burton Batman movies. A Batman that looks like Michael Keaton is still roaming the night, beating up muggers, to limited effect. He's not considered a friend by the Gotham City government, including its social climbing D.A., Harvey Dent. Dent is engaged to Barbara Gordon, the two of them working to stop Batman, even as they expect it to bring Barbara's father down in the process.

The story is about choices, those you make and those you don't. Bruce is still doing the Batman thing, but little else. This isn't even a Bruce Wayne that's a frequent subject of the tabloids, as evidenced by how blindsided he is by the media attention when he rushes into a burning auto repair shop to save Dent and becomes a major figure of public interest. As Batman, he stops an armored car heist, completely oblivious the real target was documents implicating several city and state politicians for siphoning federal aid funds into their own pockets, keeping Gotham in its miserable state. It's Catwoman who brings that to his attention.

Selina spent the year since the near-exhaustion of her nine lives in Batman Returns laying low, playing it smart. She still has the costume, but it's unclear how active she's been. Instead, she established a computer security firm, really just her, that gives her a way to bug those same systems and track everything in them. She's also going to therapy, though one questions how much good TV shrink Dr. Quinzel is doing her. Point is, Selina's evolved, at least somewhat. She still hates the Max Schrecks of the world, but she's not trying to attack them directly.

Selina makes a point Bruce's development basically arrested at age 8, but only because he was rich enough to get away with it. If he had to work for a living, support a family, maybe he'd have gotten his shit together. Stop thinking everyone could be saved, or that everyone needs to be saved according to his specific (and selective, often hypocritical) morality. At the very least, there'd be no Batman. I'm not sure about that last one. Selina's still running around as Catwoman, even with a job. But I suppose outside the cats, she's not supporting anyone. 

There's Winston Drake, a teenager living in the same Burnside District Dent hails from. (I read somewhere Quinones based him on Marlon Wayans, but can't confirm that.) Winston isn't above putting on a cloak and mask to beat up people causing trouble in his neighborhood (including Batman), but sees it's a dead end street. It's not inspiring people to do anything, except go out and beat up anyone they think doesn't belong.

Which doesn't mean he won't help people actively trying to accomplish something. When Burnside residents stage a peaceful march after Harvey's injuries, and Bullock (who I think Quinones bases on John Goodman) ignores Gordon's orders and brings out the riot cops, it's Drake who lends a hand, lobbing a big paint bomb at the cops from a rooftop, then providing spray paint cans to the protestors to help blind the cops. Meanwhile, Batman is chasing Catwoman, aka, sorting out his relationship issues.

And there's Harvey Dent. Dent is a man who, when rubber meets road, throws away principles for what he wants. Which is more power. He's going to do good things, really! He just needs more power than he has. He'll return to Burnside to show off his car, show the kids a successful black man that's not an athlete or a drug dealer, as he puts it, but he's there rarely enough the locals feel he's left them behind to move in white society. He won't let Barbara come with him to a rally in Burnside, because it wouldn't look good for the people of the neighborhood to see him with a white lady, even his fiance. But it's other peoples' expectations that make him do those things! It's what he has to do to get ahead!

The mini-series dips briefly into the difficulty for a black person to operate in a society where most (all?) levers of power are held by white people. Most of whom, consciously or unconsciously, think that's how it should be. Harvey probably wouldn't have gotten to District Attorney without "playing the game," so to speak. But he decided it was worth it, then tries to pretend he didn't, protesting when accused of not being around much for the people he grew up with.

Ultimately, the coin is, as Commissioner Gordon notes, just anothher convenient excuse Dent uses to abdicate responsibility for his choices. Dent used it even before his face was marked. Catching a purse snatcher and getting the guy's gun from him, Dent pretends to use the coin to decide whether he'll just murder the guy. To terrorize him, or maybe just make Dent feel big. Next morning, he's up at Wayne Manor, trying to sell Bruce on the idea they can't have Gordon's personal hit squad - he thinks Batman is multiple people, all taking orders from the Commish - roaming the streets. Vigilantism was fine for him the night before, as a momentary thrill, but today is for politicking.

Issue 3 starts with a hallucination of Harvey's about him saving Drake from the burning auto shop, while in reality his attempt went poorly and Wayne and Drake saved him. In the hallucination, everyone tells Harvey how swell he is. Drake admits he was wrong about Dent. Bruce Wayne says there's no way he'd have the guts to do that. Dent rides the wave of acclaim straight to Governor, loved by all demographics. Bruce admits he's funding Gordon's Bat-squad, Bruce and Gordon both go down, and Barbara loves Harvey for it.

Basically, in this dream world Harvey gets everything he wants, without any conflict or difficulty. He doesn't have to deal with anyone not liking him or calling him a sellout. He doesn't have to choose between a friend and his political career, or the woman he loves and putting a man he considers a criminal behind bars. There's no moral conflict or doubt, no one who can challenge him. He wants it all handed to him.

Even once he embraces being Two-Face persona, he bends the rules around the coin flips, when not outright ignoring them. He flips the coin to decide what to do about Boss Maroni and it comes up good head. So he does something nice - for himself, and shoots Maroni. The coin comes up good head when he flips it for Gordon, and Harvey kills him anyway.

(It's a major flaw in Bruce's big plan in the final issue to turn Harvey around. He's going to switch the coins and make the outcome what he wants. Great, except we've seen Harvey just decide to rationalize doing what he wants anyway.)

Once Two-Face is in the picture, Quinones starts using a lot of split panels. Not just to show the difference between the two halves of Harvey, but also Harvey seeing the way things are and the way they could have been. Like each eye is peering into a different universe. The climax in the Batcave is split down the middle of the page, the coin falling between the two columns. One where Harvey lands on a rock outcropping, another where he only barely grabs hold of it with one hand. The two threads continue on their separate courses across the top half of the next two pages, before coalescing into a single outcome on the bottom half. It's in the universe of Burton's Batman films, so take a wild guess how things work out for the bad guy.

Saturday Splash Page #248

"Talking Turkey," in The Tick: Heroes of the City #3, by Clay and Susan Griffith, Marc Silva (writers), Gabe Crate (penciler), Tak Toyoshima (inker), Dave Garcia, Nathan MacDicken (artists)

A late-90s series running concurrently with The Tick and Arthur (which I'll get to if I can ever find the final issue), Heroes of the City was an anthology, with several shorter stories in each of its 6 issues. Some focused on the main characters, but also stories exploring the other heroes of The City.

The book actually starts with Arthur blowing up at the Tick for taking him for granted and treating him like a servant. In the tradition of Boxing Day, this leads to Tick trying his hand at sidekicking, though not for Arthur. Instead, he works for several other heroes, such as Super Pilgrim, who makes the Tick rent dirty videos, which Super Pilgrim is confiscating for morality reasons. Yep, just to protect the citizenry from such filth. No other reason!

A couple of those issues show Arthur attempting the life of a solo hero while the Tick explores sidekicking. Rescuing a kitten from a tree doesn't go well, but he saved a man from choking and stopped a convenience store robbery with a gallon of milk. Successes to build on! To be fair, Tick's attempt at cat rescuing in issue 5 doesn't go much better.

Most stories are silly as you'd expect from the Tick's universe. Issue 6 is devoted to Tick and Arthur getting jobs, because Tick thinks civilian identities will protect them if the UPS man turns evil. Paul the Samurai and his assistant Ashley (formerly ninja lady Oedipus) tangle with a heartbroken Paul Bunyan. There's a 3-parter where Arthur's girlfriend(?!) imagines herself as a cheerleader-themed superhero, whose pom-pons have more tricks than Batman's utility belt. That one got at least one complaint letter about how Myndi was depicted with basically beach balls for boobs. Not sure if that person was assuaged when it turned out to be a power fantasy by Myndi herself.

Then there's issue 4, where, besides Part 1 of the Paul the Samurai story, you have one story about "Red Eye", a Tales from the Crypt-style thing about a mysterious hitchhiker who leads you to doom. Especially if you won't let him order off the dinner menu after 10. And then a story about the Crazy Blue Rocket that reveals he used to be a James Bond figure in a nice suit, with a teen ward. Now he's a deranged man eating flavored paste, replaying memories of his past life as he crash lands throughout the City.

Those are the only two stories in the six issues that take a scary or sad approach, so it makes for an abrupt tonal shift.

What I Bought 9/23/2026

I've spent most of this week doing remediation on an old site. We had some work done by contractors three years ago that didn't entirely take. Vegetation not establishing, erosion cuts, things of that nature. My bosses won't authorize using mechanical equipment on it after they've already done that once. So I've been out there trying to knock the sides in on multiple trenches 3+ feet deep to level everything back out, then seeding it, spreading straw and whatever else, by hand, alone. I may not move all weekend.

Weather's been lovely, though. Couldn't have asked for better on that score. 

D'Orc #8, by Brett Bean (writer/artist), Frank William (colorist), Nate Piekos (letterer) - Great, the feral hogs have invaded my blog, and I don't own an AR-15 to protect my non-existent children.

Chicken's attempt to trick knobgoblins out of their roasted unicorn is interrupted by a pig-man duel-wielding meat cleavers. Schweinehund - I can see a little dog in the snout or ears, but he really just looks like a boar - kills the knobgoblins, but shares the meat. The tradeoff is he criticizes D'Orc for hiding from violence and sitting around bemoaning his fate. Everyone has sob stories, and nobody wants to listen to yours, unless you make them. By hurting them.

They travel to the castle of a Goblin King who Pig-Man says deserves death. D'orc's supposed to steal the valuables, but balks at killing the guards and Schweinehund killing the king. Chicken possesses the king to keep him alive long enough for D'Orc to get there. Chicken also alerts the guards which, less good. But he pushes Schweinehund off the castle wall into the moat, mid-spiel about how he works alone, with no one to watch his back. Or dry you off after falling in a moat!

At which point the angry golem from the end of the previous issue shows up, telling D'Orc to come peacefully to the Lords of Darkness. But when D'orc asks if she would peacefully go meet with people who wanted to execute her, she answers no. Then D'Orc gets airmailed out of there by Chicken's body. I found that scene, I guess because of her straightforward answer.

It was probably meant to blunt the Golem into less of antagonist, but I'd say we can add two more people to the list of those hunting him. D'Orc is not great at making friends, so I'm still not sure what Bean is planning with this. D'Orc rejected Schweinehund's psychopathic worldview that no matters but him, and everyone is to be used and discarded as the situation demands. I can't imagine the point is for D'Orc to just run off and hide somewhere forever, either.

But he's not really made any allies, so what's the path forward here? Get the two sides so crazed about killing him he can lead them into a battle with each other, and let Light and Dark annihilate one another? Would expect a lot of innocent deaths in that event. Maybe the Golem is the first step on the path of gaining allies.

Generation X-23 #8, Jody Houser (writer), Emilio Laiso (artist), Erick Arciniega (color artist), Ariana Maher (letterer) - Logan, take your brokedown ass home. 

The Wolverines and the Generated finding a spiral staircase in the Facility none of the Generated knew about. Laura, noticing Logan's healing factor isn't working, takes point. Nanny intercepts, but after disarming her, Laura tries talking. Schweinehund does not approve. You have unbreakable claws, simply hack the egg-woman to pieces, before she can kill you. Or use Logan for a bullet shield if he is no longer an effective fighter.

Talking works, though. Nanny brings them to the nursery she found, telling how she got there in a nursery rhyme. Is that a new thing? I don't remember Nanny doing a lot of singing in the few Claremont comics I saw her in. Laura tries to leave Logan behind with the Generated, but they just follow. Not showing much respect for your authoritah, Laura.

While Laura tries to figure out if these are mutant babies that were being used as a source of genetic material for powers, or human babies mutant powers were being grafted onto, Nanny leaves. Just like that? She didn't try to take even one with her? Just decided the Wolverines were suitable parental figures and that's that? I'm not saying there needed to be a huge fight in a room full of infants - maybe that's why Nanny left, to avoid endangering the children - but it feels odd. Nanny went to all that trouble, all the killing, to get to these babies, then just left.

Laura and Logan have a rooftop conversation about the difficulties of guiding children. Logan says the key is he cared. I thought it was that he taught them ninja stuff. They don't talk about his non-functioning healing factor, beyond Laura admitting she worries about him, and Logan assuring her he'll be fine. Yeah, he's getting to be in two different team books again and everything. Life is good for the ol' Canucklehead!

I know the book ends in two issues, so Houser is probably trying to get in position to wrap up stuff with X-Infinite - seen on the final page planning something involving Robo-Scorpion Kimura - by then. But that just makes wasting two issues on another awful secret of the Facility and/or gratuitous Logan appearance all the worse. Maybe it plays out the Generated have to protect Laura from X-Infinite, the way she stepped forward to protect Logan. That could be something. I don't figure Laura would let the Generated take sole responsibility for looking after all the babies, so I can't imagine that's going to be the resolution.

History Repeating, But Improved

Late in Gundam Wing, Heero infiltrates the White Fang's space battleship, Libra. I say infiltrate, he crashes a captured White Fang shuttle in a shuttle bay and slips away in the confusion of fire suppression. 

He's partly there to rescue Relena, who went to Libra on her own to try reasoning with her brother. Zechs plans, going by his public statements, to bring about peace by killing everyone on Earth, since it's clearly the source of the problems. As though the people living in space are some different species entirely and it'll all be Lionel Hutz's vision of a world without lawyers if only Earth weren't around. More likely, he plans such an ugly, horrific battle people will be too frightened/disgusted to fight wars again.

Which is actually stupider than the idea it's all the Earth's fault. Clearly the helmet he wore all those years did about as much good preventing cranial trauma as your average NFL player's.

So Heero is also there to assess if Zechs is really committed to this (idiotic) path. They both have suits with the Zero System, and Heero's has shown him Zechs has no future. Is Zechs seeing something different?

He and Relena confront Zechs in some command center*. Zechs gives them a history lesson on how, a couple decades ago, two people worked towards total pacifism. Zechs and Relena's father, King Peacecraft on Earth, and in space, the politician Heero Yuy. They were assassinated, and things continued on the same old path of those with military power dominating those without, making them afraid and desperate enough to do crazy shit like give five 15-year-olds incredibly powerful mobile suits and tells them to kill a bunch of people.

Back when I first watched the series, I didn't think much of that scene. I figured Zechs was making a point about why preaching of pacifism was pointless. You have to fight for peace, crush your enemies, because that's what they'll do to you. That sort of thing. But, he also asks Relena if she agrees, and when she doesn't, praises her for thinking as a member of the Peacecrafts should.

So the parallel finally dawned on me. Zechs talks about a Peacecraft and a Heero Yuy, one from Earth and one from space, working towards peace. He tells this story to a Peacecraft and a Heero Yuy, one from Earth and one from space, both working towards peace. Relena had to grow to understand the gap between ideals and reality, and Heero had to understand what he was actually fighting for, what he was hoping to achieve with all the battles. But they've each retained their resolve, maybe even honed it through their what their experiences taught them.

The critical difference between them and the predecessors Zechs spoke of is, unlike Original Recipe Heero Yuy, Kickin' Buffalo Ranch Heero Yuy is a soldier. He's not easy to kill. Hell, as good a soldier as he is, even he can't manage to successfully kill himself, and not for lack of trying. And he has, at some point along the line, decided he will protect Relena (instead of threatening to kill her.) Which means now Relena is not easy to kill, either. Good luck, would-be assassins.

I thought that was a nifty little piece of the series, certain things repeat, but people can actually learn from the past failures and get it right. Of course, Gundam Wing: Frozen Teardrop might very well have blown that whole notion to hell. I've only read plot summaries off the Gundam wiki, and am not sure I understand them - I can't even follow the way of marking years that tries to manage the difference in the length of Martian years versus Earth years - but it read like a lot of the characters ended up repeating the mistakes of the prior generations, as badly or worse. Sending kids off to war, when they weren't fucking up raising them or outright abandoning them, things of that nature.

Maybe, if you go back far enough before the events of Gundam Wing, there was a point where humanity was actually getting along pretty well, those on Earth and those in the space colonies, and then things went downhill, only to rise again, briefly. Hopefully not, I'd like to think things could trend up against the inexorable pull of entropy, but maybe.

* Actually a hologram of Zechs. Kind of odd, since there hadn't been any sign of similar technology up to that point.

The Frisco Kid (1979)

In 1850, the city of San Francisco needs a rabbi. So Poland sends the 87th-best student (out of 88) of that year's graduating class, Avram Belinski (Gene Wilder.)

Unfortunately, he arrives in Philadelphia, which is a long way from San Francisco. He doesn't make it far before two brothers and their pal, having fed him a sob story about needing to buy back their wagon and horses to get to their sick mother in San Fran, beat him, rob him, strip him to his longjohns and leave him in the middle of a dirt road somewhere in Pennsylvania.

After some brief stints with the Amish and working a railroad, Avram tries riding a horse, alone, to San Francisco. Too bad he can't tell which direction that is, but Tommy (Harrison Ford), a bank robber, takes pity on him and guides him to the Pacific coast.

At times, the movie feels like a series of brief skits. Here's Avram trying to catch some food after raccoons raided his pack, and Tommy shoots some fish for him. Here's Avram and Tommy arguing because there's a posse after them, but Avram still won't ride his horse on the Sabbath. Here they're prisoners of some tribe, but Avram's faith impresses the chief. Late in the movie, Avram gets a chance to confront the men who robbed him (who have also crossed most of the country for some reason), which turns into a gun battle on the beach, and a crisis of faith for Avram that he must confront, along with one of the two brothers, after he reaches San Francisco.

That's the most consistent thread, the fraction between Avram's faith and Tommy's more pragmatic perspective. There's probably something about how what you put in determines what you receive, because Avram is met with kindness. You know, besides the 3 guys who robbed him. Certainly more kindness than I would expect for a lone Jewish man roaming the United States in the middle of the 19th Century to get. The Amish help him, the railroad workers help him, Tommy helps him, that one tribe seems to like him, some monks share their breakfast with he and Tommy. Avram is always grateful, accepting the hospitality, thanking them for their help, apologizing when he commits a faux pas (like talking in a monastery with a vow of silence.)

Meanwhile, Tommy robs people at gunpoint. So he spends a lot of time riding away from people who want to string him up. But he tries to protect Avram, mostly from Avram's own innocence. It becomes a recurring gag of Tommy insisting he's not going to do some foolish thing Avram intends to do - ride in a blizzard, walk with a posse on their heels - only to end up doing said foolish thing with Avram after all. And when Tommy is wounded, Avram cares for him. Tommy treated Avram with kindness - minus the times he was calling him an asshole - and receives kindness in return.

Actually, I expected Tommy's wound to be a bigger deal. The movie glosses over it. Tommy says he'll talk him through it, and the next we see, they're sitting around a fire, Tommy drunk but otherwise fine. I guess because the movie wanted to focus on Avram feeling he wasn't fit to call himself a rabbi which, surprisingly, was not because he killed a man, but because of what he did before that.

But I also thought the movie would do more with Tommy, when he robbed the train, claiming he had a partner guarding all of the passengers from behind with a shotgun. After he departs, Avram steps out of the bathroom (behind the passengers) and takes his seat like nothing happened. I figured he would be accused of being the other robber, which would tie he and Tommy's fates together early on, but no.

Wilder plays Avram as sort of frazzled, initial enthusiasm for America and cowboys fading quickly. He always looks tired, maybe it's the beard, but he seems to move with almost grim determination. I guess he sees the whole thing as a trial from God.

Ford plays Tommy as sort of a loud, cocky idiot. He is good with a gun, and he must be good at robbing banks and trains if he hasn't been caught yet, but he loses his cool easily, and gives way to Avram at every turn. In terms of the competence to bullshit ratio, he probably runs higher on the competence end than Han Solo, but lower than Indiana Jones.

Ultimately though, Tommy's lonely; he makes it seem like a magnanimous gesture on his part to guide Avram, but I think it's an opportunity to have some company. If he makes himself useful, then this guy will spend time with him. Ford looks genuinely embarrassed when Avram calls him friend, and is shocked to be asked to be best man at Avram's wedding. Again, it's probably a matter of input influencing output. You rob people, they aren't going to treat you like a pal. You look after them, they'll look after you and want you to be around for important moments in their lives.

Wedding Meddling

Pre-wedding jitters.

Total coincidence it worked like this, schedule-wise. The 5th volume of Bandette, The Wedding of B.D. Belgique, revolves around Bandette's efforts to engineer a marriage between Inspector Belgique and his lieutenant, Heloise Price.

Ostensibly, this is because there is a ring with a map of the Paris catacombs that will lead to an underground base where there is, in addition to art and other valuables, there is evidence of the true identity of the ruthless underworld figure, The Voice. As you might expect, The Voice doesn't want anyone getting that info. And the ring is passed down to the first daughter of each generation of a particular family to get married. In this cases, it's between Heloise and her sister, Abigail, who sees helping The Voice as her path to a life of riches, not realizing it's a path to a grave.

If you're wondering why Heloise and Belgique don't just have a quick marriage to get the ring, well, you, me and Monsieur are all in the same boat. Unfortunately, it's a boat with several very cross women and an irate Chihuahua, so we better just keep our common sense to ourselves. This is an affair of the heart, or something.

Much of the story is Bandette trying to arrange the marriage, including getting Belgique to recognize his feelings for Heloise so this is not a sham joining of two souls, while The Voice tries to wipe out her circle of confederates. Although in that, he's kind of half-assed. He's goes after a couple of the urchins and a young thief named Femme Felon, rather than Monsieur or even Daniel the delivery boy. He does try to take out Heloise via a bomb, which I guess is going straight for the head of the snake.

Tobin writes Bandette as so unserious most of the time it's hard to tell she really cares about this. She and Daniel travel to the circus, on what she says is a matter of learning how to win another's heart. It seems mostly to be an opportunity for her to eat cotton candy and encourage Pimento to make friends with elephants. Which is adorable, but doesn't exactly convey a sense of urgency to the proceedings.

But Bandette is also simply operating on a different level from everyone else. She's less a human thief and more a trickster god, having fun playing around with mortals who think they've got a chance of competing with her. She can afford to goof off, because she already knows where all paths lead.

Coover uses pages with lots of panels. The absolute fewest panels on a page in this volume is 5, and that only a few times. The most is 11, also rare. Usually it's 9 or 8, either 3 rows of 3, or 2 rows of 3 and a row with just 2. The latter seems to be for when she wants to focus a panel on the faces of two characters, say Belgique and Heloise, and give it a little more space.

But she puts all those panels to good use. Showing off the rooftops, cafes, and museums of Paris, but even more than that, showing off Bandette's nature. She is never still, so a series of panels is an opportunity to show her in a variety of postures or activities. It works for montages, as when she drags Daniel around as she questions a variety of people (and also pigeons) about falling in love.

Also, it highlights how quick and sly she can be. In one panel she's looking at a photo of a bust Monsieur planned to steal, in the next she's about to climb in his car while holding his keys. Or she's talking on the phone with The Voice, while assassins try to kill her, then pauses to grab the phone number on a flyer for someone who makes pies.

Sunday Splash Page #445

"Priorities," in Bandette: The Six Finger Secret #1, by Paul Tobin (writer) and Colleen Coover (artist)

Bandette is not a series that utilizes splash pages. No doubt Bandette, the world's greatest thief, would find such things far too limiting. To be satisfied with a single large space to operate in, rather than many small panels from which she can appear and disappear, with almost Looney Tunes-esque defiance of laws of motion? What an absurd notion!

I am inconsistent with titles that were or are a string of mini-series. I've done a lot of the individual Atomic Robo minis, but one post for all of Dave Stevens' Rocketeer stuff, and one for all of Adventures of Dr. McNinja. But my original Sunday Splash Page on Bandette was rather more abbreviated than I would have liked. 

In my defense, I was out of sorts after the tornado that left me living at my father's house, my comic collection piled atop itself in one of the less-cluttered rooms of his house. Tobin and Coover have released two more volumes of Bandette since that post, so I say we're doing this.

So, Bandette. World's greatest thief. Lover of chocolates and art and cats and her little dog Pimento and harassing chain-smoking police officers. A young woman with, a complicated and scandalous lineage, the details of which I can't keep straight. Most every story makes some reference to her ancestors having posed for a sculpture or having deep alliances with the circus or something of that sort.

She is, as presented by Tobin and Coover, almost a mythological trickster figure. Brightly garbed, dramatic just for the fun of it. Always playing a game with people, carrying on monologues as she casually avoids attempts on her life from a variety of weirdos. Backflipping across car roofs while pursued by ninjas without ever breaking her thread of conversation with the mysterious underworld figure who sent the ninjas, or casually eating chocolate while walking across a wire between two buildings.

Even her friends and allies, and she has several people who drop everything to aid her, are often confused. She disappears from one side of a panel, only to reappear from the opposite side of the next panel. Steals the shoes off her rival's feet without his noticing, while he's driving. Pauses in the middle of explaining the history of some mysterious ring to answer the door for a cookie delivery. Even when she seems cross, it feels feigned, irritation with someone foolish who doesn't see the obvious. Like she's dealing with a child.

When I think about it, she's Bugs Bunny and everyone else is Elmer Fudd. Her opponents think they're competing with her for some specific prize, a painting or a secret. The outcome of that was never in doubt. Bandette was already at the finish line before they even started. No, Bandette's concerned with some more intangible goal. A matter of the heart, usually. The prize everyone else is chasing is just a carrot on a stick she uses to create the outcome she wants.

Which, admittedly, irks me at times. I've mentioned before I'm not a fan of stories where the protagonist or antagonist knew everything a character had planned before they even tried and perfectly countered it. That is very much in effect here, especially by volume 5. Bandette seemingly could have nipped The Voice's entire plan in the bud right from the start, as she had it all mapped out and knew everything he was going to do.

I suppose it doesn't bother as much as it did with, for example, Al Ewing's New Avengers, because Tobin and Coover are using their own characters, not someone else's. Also, Bandette does have some ulterior motive she's driving at that accounts for why she's doing things her way. Double-also, her tales, despite the frequent attempts of murder and blackmail, are generally light-hearted. Even if what The Voice or Absinthe seek could be extremely harmful to innocent people, there's no real risk. Bandette's operating on a different level from them. The stories are more about the fun she has along the way than the MacGuffin.

Coover's Paris is a perfect dramatic backdrop, full of steep roofs with chimneys for people to step dramatically from behind. Wires to use like a trapeze, old buildings full of secret passages and rooms. Seemingly an endless supply of cemeteries for tense meetings and museums with things for her to steal. Narrow alleys for ominous footsteps to echo through and make a person feel trapped, but also enough broad streets to have car chases on. Advantage of a city that's grown and expanded across centuries I suppose. Can be a lot of things.

It's a cute series. Charming, maybe. The things that should irritate me more, don't. It's hard to hold a grudge against someone enjoying life as much as Bandette.

Saturday Splash Page #247

"Dirty Laundry," in Total Suplex of the Heart, by Joanne Starer (writer), Ornella Greco (artist), Nathan Kempf (letterer)

Georgie is a writer for a pop-culture website, when she gets the idea of writing an article about a local hardcore wrestling league. The angle being that she's going to be part of the show, as a valet. She doesn't understand what she's getting into, but finds herself hooked on the experience. Making friends, performing in front of a screaming crowd (though what they're screaming isn't necessarily all that great.) And there's a lot of hot guys for her to make terrible decisions with.

That's a lot of this graphic novel, Georgie making terrible decisions. Sometimes with good intentions, like when she works really hard to support her boyfriend Steve's career by playing homemaker or acting as a one-woman ticket booth and concession stand for one of his shows. She's trying to be a good partner, be supportive and helpful, without noticing she's making all the compromises. She's pushed down any thoughts of her life or her desires in favor of Steve's routine and his dreams. 

And if she finds herself questioning that, she feels bad. Because guilt is another big part of this. She's often very cheerful and friendly, gets along well with guys. People make assumptions about her as a result, and when she draws lines, when she decides she is not, in fact, comfortable climbing up on stage with an exotic dancer and making out with her for the entertainment of her male coworkers, she feels awkward and guilty about drawing that line, or being perceived a certain way The guilt usually drives her into one terrible decision or another - binging on high-fiber snacks, sleeping with complete assholes - and then she feels guilty or embarrassed about that. The cycle begins anew.

Her mother only appears in one scene, via video chat at the very beginning of the book, but we can't underestimate her impact on Georgie. In between criticizing her for not making time to call and not having a real job, she does compliment Georgie for working to stay in shape. She wouldn't want to end up like Aunt Sadie, who Georgie points out is happily married with two kids and millions of dollars. Her mother's rebuttal? 'But she's fat.' Oh well, then Sadie's whole life has been a waste.

Later, there's a scene of Georgie trying on a possible new look for her ring attire, and the first panel is the reality of how she looks, while the second, much less flattering panel, is how Georgie perceives herself. Starer and Greco don't use that more than once, but you can see it in how Georgie acts throughout. Never seeing herself positively, amplifying all her faults and blaming herself for things. 

It isn't all a downer. Georgie does find several people who believe in her and support her idea she can build something herself. (Starer admits in the afterword it took her an additional year to reach the point Georgie does in the story, and longer to start to confront her body image issues.) Her own promotion, her own life, that doesn't require her to throw everything she cares about away for someone else. There are lots of scenes or her sitting around with other wrestlers or promoters, laughing or dishing gossip, and once she finds her footing, Georgie really loves pro wrestling, in spite of all the sexism, racism, homophobia, etc.

Greco doesn't get to draw a ton of action, since so much of the plot happens outside the ring, in homes or bars. When there is action, the art captures the athleticism of the people involved. Someone taking a knee to the nose, or flinging their opponent over their head. The art captures the near-superhuman physiques of several of the wrestlers, plus their sheer size. Georgie barely reaches pec height on some of the guys.

The art captures all the sides of Georgie's personality. The playful, loud part, that'll catcall a guy or joke around with her friends. The quietly happy part that genuinely enjoys cuddling with her boyfriend, where her expressions and emotions are smaller and gentler. The vulnerable part where she opens up to people and shows what's eating her, even if she doesn't intend to. Where she's asking for help, but not really hearing what they're saying. And the times when she shrinks in on herself, hunched up on the couch in a hoodie and draped in a blanket, hating herself.

Here's my original review from February. 

What I Bought 6/17/2026

I've been using the TV to watch Youtube lately. Drawback, it doesn't have an ad blocker and, for some reason, over half the ads are for Iowa political races. I don't in live in Iowa. On the plus side, this means I have no stake, so I don't get depressed about what the candidates represent and what they chose to highlight as their positive qualities!

I only found one of the three books for this week. Which wasn't a surprise, but I could have used a pleasant surprise after a 3-day inspection trip in completely miserable weather. Also, i can't decide if it's a good or bad thing none of the stores around here ever have Chachu. Is it popular and constantly selling out, or did none of them order it? 

Marc Spector: Moon Knight #8, Jed MacKay (writer), Devmalya Pramanik (artist), Rachelle Rosenberg (color artist), Cory Petit (letterer) - Clea looks oddly happy on that cover. Should anyone be that pleased to be hanging out with Daredevil and Blade? She needs to get out more often.

A flashback reveals that during Marc's disastrous solo attempt to rescue his crew, the Mansion made him an offer. Bring it souls, and get his friends back. Hence, the double-cross on Blade, Rider, and DD. The Mansion, predictably, does not honor its terms, claiming it never specified how many souls he needed to deliver. But that's fine, because getting it to accept the three Midnight Sons leaves it vulnerable to the fact that terms refers to a ritual, not a team. Um, is that true? I never read all that '90s supernatural Marvel stuff.

That frees everyone. Marc's crew, the three he betrayed, and - well, we'll get to that. Tigra's very happy to see Marc. While it's not really in keeping with the tone of the rest of the issue, I do love that Pramanik drew Tigra's tail as wrapping around Marc and flicking excitedly.

The other Midnight Sons are somewhat less happy, though Blade puts it together the Mansion would have read their thoughts once they were taken, so it had to be genuine. I noted that when Marc is initially explaining, he's looking at his crew, and not, you know, the people he actually betrayed. Guess he can live with them being pissed - as long as they don't kill him - but not with Reese and the others hating him for doing something like that on their behalf.

The Mansion isn't dead, but Marc's got an army with him, courtesy of all the people the Mansion took, freed along with the costumed types. Clea pulls out some spell that gives everyone magic weapons. Daredevil got an axe, and is immediately testing its sharpness against his finger, what the heck, Matt? Tigra got a chainsaw, though, so Clea clearly knew who Marc would want to have the best toy. And now the Midnight Militia are ready to get to work.

Plus, there's still whoever is Marc's ace in the hole. Clea mentions a last ally who will help them escape. Which makes me a think teleporter, or portal creator. I kind of want it to be The Spot, but I figure magic is probably needed so, Illyana? Guess we'll see next month.

Mars on Earth - Mark Johanson

Johanson starts the book by discussing how NASA uses Chile's Atacama Desert as a testing ground for equipment they send to Mars, as the aridity, soil chemistry and the levels of ultraviolet radiation. But the book isn't really about that.

Johanson does spend a fair amount of time describing what traveling up and down, back and forth, through the Atacama does to him. The way it dries out his lips, the way his skin cracks from the wind and the sun, the way his eyes bulge and sinuses bleed as he travels into the high mountain regions of the desert. But the book isn't about how empty the Atacama is, but how much there is there, and how much a part of Chile's history it is.

In that regard, it was a fascinating read for someone that doesn't know a whole lot about Chile beyond what I picked up in the those books about the (U.S.-orchestrated) fall of the Allende government in the 1970s. Especially in regards to the various Indigenous peoples that lived there long before Europeans ever showed up. The oldest known examples of people mummifying the deceased are from the Chinchorro people in northern Chile, who were doing so at least 7000 years ago. The increased rains brought about by climate change are steadily unearthing new mummies. Some whose faces were preserved as is, others were painted with red clay or blue, while some are adorned with masks showing a variety of expressions.

(Also, the mummification seems to have started during a period when their was high infant mortality because the river they were living near and drinking from was extremely high in arsenic. Now, the people who still live there have an inherited tolerance for arsenic.)

Earlier in the book, and further south, he travels to the eastern border, to a town beneath a mountain called Licancabur, and meets with a married couple who are of the Likan Antai. One of the things they describe is that they have constellations made not just of the stars, but of the darkness between the stars. Like, negative space constellations, each meaning something different, and the intensity of the message depends on how well-defined they are.

There were a lot of passages and experiences he relates like that. Maybe they're old hat to those more versed in the history Latin America, but it was all new to me. And there's also more recent history, like the struggles of the workers of the European-owned mines to unionize in the early 20th Century, or a particular coastal town known for a brutal prison that future dictator Augusto Pinochet commanded earlier in his career, and which he'd later use to disappear dissidents once he rose to power.

Or, on a somewhat lighter note, how the British who came looking to mine nitrate (guano) passed along the concept of elevenses, except Chileans have turned it into a late afternoon meal called "once" (Spanish for thirteen), with regional variations in what sort of foods you have with the tea. The tea may also be spiked with something stronger, as that's apparently what the miners did on the sly back in the day.

The other part of the book, interwoven with Johanson learning about this vast desert in a country he's lived in for 7 years, is him trying to figure out what he's going to do. He settled here with the boyfriend he met in New Zealand, after years of a vagabond, traveling writer lifestyle. But is that what he really wants? Is he doing this desert expedition to better know his partner's home country (and the country Mark is descended from, though he was born in the U.S.), or is it a way to start breaking ties by putting distance between them?

I'm not sure that aspect of the book works as well. Maybe because it's such a personal thing for him, it feels like he struggles to describe what he's figuring out as he goes along. Or maybe it's me, as it doesn't really resonate. I'm a solitary sort, certainly more than Mark, and also not the type to just travel to a country with whatever money I've got and see how long I can stay there. The particular push-and-pull he's feeling doesn't necessarily strike a chord. I can't see how what he's seeing and experiencing in the Atacama is tipping the scales one way or the other for his decision.

Also, because he's trying to set the stage for that theme of the book, it takes a while before he actually gets into the desert. Initially, he's discussing mass protests in the capital where he and Felipe live, started by a student protest over increased metro fares, that help to oust an ineffectual, billionaire friendly president. The hopes of getting a new constitution, one voted on by the actual people of Chile, instead of one created by a handful of economists who thought neoliberalism was the cure-all, are impeded by the strain of enforced isolation and confinement, not to mention the economic pressure, brought on by COVID.

All that's important for establishing Johanson's state of mind. The fear, the stress, the uncertainty about his future, and why he takes the opportunity to flee into what appears from the outside (even within Chile) a forbidding and lifeless desert. A place where you can get out of the house, and not have to worry about social distancing, because there's hardly anyone around. A place well-distant from many of those concerns, because there are more immediate ones. Like if there's going to be water for your well if the aquifers keep getting drained to mine lithium.

But it did leave me wondering, initially, when he was going to start talking about the desert in his book about the desert. FYI, it's 57 pages in, about 20% of the way into the book.

'The horizon broadens as I veer slightly inland near Totoral, offering more sand and less rock, more shrubs and fewer cacti. Where it was once a study in the color brown, now everything is blazingly white. The aridity hits me at full force, and it becomes a stupefying drive. There are no dust balls rolling across the road, as in the American Southwest; rather, it's a raw rugged nothingness with only the sunlight to hold things together.'

Overdue Movies Reviews #16 - Pitch Black (2000)

A transport ship passes through the tail of a comet in a deserted trinary star system and crash lands on a rocky hellscape of a moon, orbiting an enormous ringed gas giant. Only a handful of the 40 passengers survive, mostly due to the navigation officer refusing to let the first officer dump them in an attempt to make a better landing. (The captain was killed in his cryo-pod by some of the micro-meteorites that punctured the hull.)

But the nav officer didn't buckle his seatbelt, so he didn't survive. Which leaves First Officer Fry (Radha Mitchell), a couple of prospectors, an antiquities dealer, a teen traveling alone, a priest (Keith David) on a pilgrimage with his three sons, and a bounty hunter (Cole Hauser). Oh, and the bounty hunter's prisoner, one Richard B. Riddick (Vin Diesel). Murderer, escaped convict. Emphasis on "escaped," because he's on the loose.

Of course, the satellite they've landed on is pretty inhospitable. No visible water, no trees. No nightfall, as there's always either the red-orange pair or their blue third wheel in the sky, if not all three. There are skeletons of enormous creatures in a vast plain, but no sign of any living specimens, or any other life. Maybe just let Riddick stay escaped? An entire ashtray of a planet to himself.

They find a mining outpost, abandoned. This solves the water issue, and if they can get some power cells from their ship, there's a dropship that will at least get them off this rock. If they can get them before the planet's remaining inhabitants come out to feast.

Is this Vin Diesel's big break? Iron Giant was the year before, but it was an animated movie so his voice was in it, but necessarily him. Saving Private Ryan the year before that, but he's a supporting character. The birth of the legend that is Dom Toretto is still a year away. I don't think Boiler Room did much for him. Riddick as a character relies a lot on Diesel's physical presence. That he's a big guy, that he can glare intensely, or offer an unsettling smile. It fits with Riddick's initial monologue about how the only part of your brain still aware in cryo-sleep is the low, animal part, and that's why he's still awake.

Because Riddick is, or is playing at, an animal. The "shine-job" on his eyes, allowing him to see in the dark, that glow like those of an animal with tapetum lucidum. The way he gently encourages Fry to come closer, then lunges like a guard dog on a chain. The bit where he covertly cuts a lock of her hair and sniffs it. Dislocating both his shoulders to escape, like a fox chewing off its leg to escape a snare. He speaks with his body; you can't trust the voice because he's trying hard not to let anything slip that way. Everything is a growled accusation, or a smart-ass remark delivered with a sneer. When he tries to mockingly laugh at Fry's accusation that he's afraid, he can't even manage a convincing laugh (he also leans back a bit, like she jabbed at him with knife or something.)

All that works to Diesel's strengths. The few moments where he needs to emote a little more, not so much. OK, really it's just the scene when Fry dies and he tries for a distressed?, anguished? cry of 'Not for me!' Actually, the part right before that, when Fry is trying to stand him up and get him walking, is good, and it relies on body language. Riddick doesn't try to lean on Fry for support so much as collapse into her arms. Which could be exhaustion after dragging all those power cores, fighting Johns, killing some of the creatures. But he flings his arms around her, and with their relative positions, Fry has to do the same. They end up in an embrace. Not romantic, more like a comforting hug, something it doesn't sound like Riddick - 'found in a dumpster with an umbilical cord around my neck' - has gotten much of in his life.

I enjoy the look of the landscape, especially in the scenes when the blue star is shining. Everything washes out to this almost blinding white, like everyone is directly under an incredibly bright spotlight. It really makes the planet seem dry, like there's so much heat sweat would evaporate instantly. Along with the bleached skeletons they find, and those immense, termite mound-like, spires the creatures make, that look so formidable, but are easy to break through. Just dry as dust.

Some of the CGI isn't great, the green screens when the characters are in the foreground of shots with the planet or the stars are jarring. The creatures' hands always seem strange to me, though I guess they're meant to have evolved for grasping, so the teeth or tail can deliver a finishing blow. The biologist in me wonders about the creatures evolving wings on a planet with such thin air, but maybe the heat creates updrafts to keep them aloft.

Even after the eclipse begins, though? But it doesn't seem like that prison planet from the second Riddick movie, where one side is an inferno, the other an ice box, so there must be some normal heat retention. The creatures are very thin, though I don't think their bones are hollow like a bird's, given one was trying to headbutt its way through a skeletal backbone to get at Jack. As always, the biology and climatology of worlds in Riddick movies fascinates me.

The story revolves around the Fry/Johns/Riddick trio. Fry, who was prepared to make a ruthless decision to save, at best, 2 lives at the cost of 40, and is now struggling to save the survivors as a form of penance. Johns, the lawman who is ultimately self-serving and dishonorable. Riddick the criminal that has given up on things like trust or support because the world has never shown any to him.

Johns makes Riddick an offer, help them escape this planet, and he'll go free. An offer Johns has no intention of honoring. Riddick surely knows this, but is willing to play along. Fry is the one in the middle, the other two tugging her their way (even though their ways are the same.) Riddick mentions Johns' morphine habit, that he didn't offer any to let the nav officer die in peace. Johns mentions Riddick can pilot a ship like the one they plan to use, that's how he made his last escape, and the crew didn't survive.

It isn't so much Fry's decision is relevant to how things play out between Johns and Riddick themselves. The two meatheads were always going to settle that personally. It's more what decision she makes. Does she honor the deal with Riddick, because he's honored his side? Does she leave him to die, because she fears he'll kill her? Does she make the choice to save herself, and abandon the survivors alongside Riddick? Prioritize her own, higher, chance of survival, versus the lower possibility she can save the others?

She's already done that last one once, and had her unwitting, prospective victims thank her for saving them. It eats at her. Mitchell moves through the movie like someone carrying an invisible 50-kilo sack on her back. Constantly exhausted, hair stuck to her forehead in a way that has to be irritating. Leaning against things or away from people. The guilt eats at her more every time she's praised, and drives her to desperation to try and save people she quite likely doesn't even really care about, when she has only the vaguest idea what she's doing. Fry understands ships enough to know how they can get the one they find in the air. Everything else? She's winging it. That makes having all these people rely on her even worse, especially when unforeseen circumstances - the rain, Jack's monthly cycle - create complications.

Johns and Riddick are the only two (alive) that know the truth. Each of them use it, too, in different ways. Johns uses it to undercut Fry when she tries getting on her high horse. The charming, noble protector veneer Hauser gave Johns up to then falls away, and we see someone that fights to win, whatever it takes. Maybe he learned that from Riddick shanking him in the back, or maybe it's something he always had.

In contrast, Riddick is gentle. He tries to coax Fry onto the jump-ship, to forget about Jack and Imam, and leave with him. Maybe there's a hint of mockery in him to start, but as the conversation progresses, I think he comes to first pity, then resent, her. In the former, it's how broken she seems about her inner conflict. Wanting to survive, but not wanting to hate herself for abandoning people. So he encourages her to do what he would. Survive. Even offers her a hand, then steps out of the ship to guide her in.

Eventually though, the fact she won't leave them digs at him. It's a little like The Killing Joke, only instead of it being a "one bad day" thing, Riddick wants confirmation that given the choice, other people would make the same decision as him, and think only of themselves. If Fry does it, then Riddick is fine. It's not just him, the universe really is as selfish and terrible as he claims as he sees it when he and Imam discuss God. But when she keeps insisting on going back, that means maybe it's just him that's the asshole. You don't have to always distrust kindness and cloak yourself in cynicism. Instead of Riddick pulling her into his way of seeing things, she pulls him the other direction.

Hit Reset

Seen that before. Guy ties the knot and it's like he forgets everyone else in his life. 

The 8th volume of No Longer Allowed in Another World is about most of the cast coming to realize the troubles of their world go deeper than the Seven Fallen Angels.

After Archbishop Elton's transformation and rampage in the previous volume, Annette has questions for His Holiness. They stop in the village Annette where vaguely remembers growing up (ominous statement), but find it almost deserted. All the men huddled in a single cabin, in deep depression because their wives are bewitched by an Otherworlder. The same Otherworlder that promptly captures Tama.

(This marks another volume where writer Hiroshi Nota doesn't really have anything for Tama to do. Outside a couple of cheap gags, she might as well not even be there.)

Annette goes alone to confront the "Fallen Angel of Lust", whose ability allows her to seize people's memories, making them into an easily controllable puppet. Annette, remembering what Sensei said about her not being a caged bird, resists, breaking free about the time Sensei shows up, excited to be dissolved by this strange power he heard about from Diantha, the only young elf woman in the village not bewitched. Significantly, Diantha's also the only young elf woman in the village not married.

The Fallen Angel's attempt to use her power on Sensei backfires. I think because his soul is too bleak? When she enters his thoughts, it's just a dark void. Or else he's so nosy his will overwhelms hers and he ransacks her memories instead. In this volume's tragic flashback, Eliza was a child TV star. Boys constantly hit on her, then insulted her for not responding. Girls assume she's sleeping with the guys and treat her horribly. Her one friend is a shy girl who draws a comic about a girl who looks like Eliza and is transported to a high fantasy world to become friends with an elf girl. But when Midori's boyfriend assaults Eliza, Midori blames Eliza for it. Enter the old Isekai Jackpot Truck.

Eliza joined the other Fallen Angels and was sent to conquer the elves, but made friends with Diantha instead. Diantha just wants to craft jewelry, but is constantly hounded to marry some douchebag man-elf. When they trashed her workshop, Eliza decided it was time to get down to business.

Sensei having seen all this while poking through Eliza's memories like a dirtbag private investigator, is disgust by the locals claiming their village is full of love. The wives, understandably, are not inclined to take the word of a woman who enslaved them, and insist their husbands did nothing wrong. Eliza probably made their husbands intimidate Diantha and wreck her workshop as a method of intimidation and coercion! So Diantha takes Eliza and they leave the village together.

So Eliza's better future is to stay here. This only makes the fact Yuriko and her sister were sent home even more curious. Their happy future involves being sent back to a world where the sister is always very ill (she was healthy in Zauberberg) and Yuriko's entire future is thrown away playing caretaker because the parents were too lazy to do it themselves? I don't get what kind of point Nota is trying to make there.

Still, with another crisis dealt with - sort of; the village's tendency to impose harsh expectations upon the women to conform to certain roles hasn't been addressed - everyone converges on His Holiness. Sensei and his crew, the remaining Fallen Angels, Annette's colleagues Ysha and Wolff (also suspicious after what happened to Elton), and the Dark Lord's daughter, Waldelia. Certainly feels like time for the big showdown, but there's not much fighting.

The leader of the Fallen Angels says they were ordered to kill the Dark Lord by the Pope. Once it was done, he made them the new boogeyman, and is using Sensei to remove them. This is a piss-poor argument considering the people he's talking to, like us, know only one (Yuriko) of the 4 Fallen Angels was sent away. Tama killed the cannibal. The other two are still roaming this world. Plus, there's all the Otherworlders who simply abused their abilities for their own gain. Why weren't they being ordered to defeat the Dark Lord? Well the guy has the hairstyle of a mob lawyer and eyes like a vampire. Clearly not to be trusted.

Meanwhile, the Pope's pitching Sensei on using his Cheat to help fix this world by expelling the Otherworlders. Predictably, this bombs, all the more when Sacchan shows up and uses her "Pride" Cheat to bind Sensei to her. While Annette seems able to briefly shake the hold on Sensei, the Pope shows off his own power, resetting things to when Sensei first arrived in this world. Only this time, he and Sacchan arrive together, Sensei still bound by her power.

Sunday Splash Page #444

"No Pleasure Cruise," in Babs #4, by Garth Ennis (writer), Jacen Burrows (artist), Andy Troy (colorist), Rob Steen (letterer)

A 6-issue mini-series about a barbarian (former?) princess roaming a medieval fantasy realm, albeit filtered through Garth Ennis' particular sensibilities. Meaning profanity, graphic violence rendered by Burrows and Troy, and juvenile humor. Like Babs being introduced riding through a forest, grumbling and cursing, and it turns out to be because a chainmail top really chafes one's tits.

Babs has a magic sword, Barry, whose only special ability is he can talk. Oh, and his guard can act as little hands, though he doesn't do much with them besides gesticulate wildly and flip people off. Usually Babs, who grumbles about his uselessness, but doesn't get rid of him.

Her history, to the extent we can trust the accounts gathered by the geeks she beat the crap out of one night in the tavern, is of winning great wealth through some feat of killing or theft, only to lose said wealth in some idiotic way. Steal a necro-ruby by kicking the witch that held it into her own acid pit, gamble it away the next day. Make a fortune killing some troll king, lose it all on ill-advised real estate ventures. Based on what we see here, I have to question the geeks' research, because this Babs doesn't seem like she can plan or successfully pull off much of anything. She mostly just wings it. Maybe that's why she keeps losing her money.

Her friend Izzy's not much better off, as we see her steal an overweight dragon's hoard, only to have to pay it all in damages to a group of leprechauns (called something I'm not typing here) she plowed through with her chariot during the escape. Lots of blood, lots of little, green-clad limbs flying here and there. There's also Colin Culpepper, a useless goober of a knight that goes on (and on, and on) about purity and how he will protect any fair maiden. He also got knocked out by a bunch of orcs, one of whom took a dump in his helmet (because Garth Ennis), and the "holy flame" of his magic sword is just lamp oil.

To the extent there's a plot beyond Babs roaming about and getting in the middle of stuff, a guy in gleaming white armor called Tiberius Toledo and his knights of 'unblemished virtue', are convincing all the humans they'll be a lot better off once all these other races - dwarves, hobbits, etc., - are gotten rid of. And Tiberius will take care of that. He'll also take most of the townspeople's stuff while he's at it.

Despite half their group consisting of an orc, a goblin, and a troll, the geeks decide to help Tiberius. By providing the information they've spent their lives compiling, ranking (via a 10-point system for different attributes!) and arguing about. Very subtle, Ennis. Should I assume they'll soon have an Official Handbook of the Babs-verse, or a Who's Who? in the Babs-verse?

The geeks are led by Mork the Orc, a pencil-necked, spiteful loser who wants things to go back to how they used to be, when guys were always in charge, and who blames his lot in life on unseen forces keeping him down. Mork is the type insecure enough to buy a dick-enlarging potion (kept in a little blue vial), but too afraid of an ironic outcome to actually use it.

He and his cronies initially object to Babs because they thought she was some other barbarian princess that killed her father and took his clothes and his name. After she kicked all their asses, it was because she was part of the Deep Realm, a mysterious group conspiring to keep dudes like Mork from getting the money and women they're owed. To him, Tiberius will put things right, and get Mork on top where he belongs. That Tiberius doesn't give a shit about him or what he wants is not something Mork is capable of figuring out any time soon.

Again, Ennis not going for subtle. Which is fine, as long as it's funny, and it mostly is. Not laugh out loud - I laughed a lot more at Touched by a Demon - but I at least grin, or utter an amused snort. Burrows treads the line where the violence can be gory, but still exaggerated enough to be funny. Babs stopping in the middle of interrogating a guy by jamming a crossbow bolt up his nose to argue with Barry, who's complaining about being left stuck in the ground like a common shovel.

In the final confrontation with Tiberius, despite her plan not working at all, Babs ultimately wins the battle. I don't think anyone won the war, but definitely not her. Which, I suppose, is why she usually works for hire. Killing assholes for her own revenge, let alone based on some principle, just doesn't pay. Action is not her reward, and half a chicken isn't cutting it either.

There is a second mini-series, which was supposed to finish in June. The penultimate issue doesn't come out until this Wednesday, so who knows when it'll actually conclude. Not sticking to the schedule was an issue for this mini-series as well, but I don't know know the reason. Maybe they should switch to soliciting it as every other month?