What I Bought 8/29/2026 - Part 2

I bought Outlast off the Playstation store several months ago. Fortunately when it was on sale, because I didn't get very far before I concluded it wasn't for me. I expected it to be tense, but I didn't realize how frustrated I'd get with the gameplay. I know I don't love first-person perspective for stealth games, but I guess Thief and Dishonored at least giving the option to defend yourself if you blow it blunted the dissatisfaction more than I thought. Not a choice with Outlast. All you can do is run, or hide, and it's just too tense. 

Vampyrates! #2, by Fred van Lente (writer), Luca Pizzari (artist), Adam Guzowski (colorist) Jodie Troutman (letterer) - Kind of wish the bats were forming into the jolly roger, or vice versa.

This issue is mostly former Empress Nira figuring out her current situation. She's on a pirate ship, with a captain (Akeyo) who knows Nira is who she claims to be, and not just some nut. Akeyo has no interest in letting Nira leave, to say nothing of following her commands. That Nira can't place Akeyo - meaning, she doesn't realize Akeyo was serving as a privateer for Nira, who got listed as an enemy because nobody told Akeyo the war was over - probably isn't helping. Or maybe it is. Akeyo could want the person she's angry with to actually remember her, and understand why, before taking revenge.

End result, Nira is part of the crew now. Specifically, part of a gunnery crew, with a little blonde vamp called Longlocks. And she's getting some practice in a hurry, because they attack a ship carrying tithes. Which is to say walking blood bags, aka, humans. There's also an area locked off, but it seems to be full, not of gold, but "rotters." Which I guess are vampires that are dead and mindless? Zombie vampires. Seems like they'd be easier to kill, lacking much in the way of thought or coordination, but still messy.

Fight scenes are brief, mostly implied by a panel of Nira looking on in shock as blood flies. That page is the only one where Pizzari's panels aren't square or rectangular, with the sides parallel to the edges of the page. They're slanted or angled instead, as maybe being this up-close to pirate warfare is unsettling to a coddled royal, even one that's good with a blade.

But Nira ends up saving one of the crew, and took care of the rotters by setting the ship ablaze (to destroy all the bounty posters with her picture on them that she found), so she's made some friends. Now if she can only figure out what Akeyo stands to gain by letting the humans slip away at night in a longboat.

So van Lente's throwing a lot of stuff in, and not necessarily stopping to explain all of it. Which makes sense. Odds are most of Akeyo's crew has seen all this before, and they aren't the types to stop and explain to the "crazy" newbie. But yeah, a lot of place names, a lot of concepts where I'm not totally sure of the context.

Paint (2023)

Carl Nargle (Owen Wilson) is the long-time host of a painting show on PBS-Burlington, known for his landscape paintings (mostly Mount Mansfield, highest point in Vermont), and naming the trees and bushes in his paintings. Also for his big, blonde afro and his brightly colored van, named Vantastic.

When Carl balks at the station manager's (Stephen Root) request he help boost their ratings by doing two shows a day, they bring in a new painter to follow Carl's show, Ambrosia (Ciara Renee). Who, on her first episode, paints a UFO pouring blood onto a tree stump*. Because that's what she felt like painting today. Soon, Ambrosia is the new hotness, and Carl misses all the blind adulation he once enjoyed. 

There are a few scenes of Carl trying to get people to love him again, but mostly it's him slowly - with a fair amount of help from people yelling at him - figuring out what went wrong in his life. He and the station's assistant manager, Katherine (Michaela Watkins), used to be an item, but it fell apart in a sad mixture of emotional neglect and infidelity, from both parties. Neither has moved on. Katherine really runs the station - Root is playing one of his nervous, awkward men, who somehow stumbled into a position he's unsuited for - but she doesn't seem to have found anyone else. Carl is still living in the past. Same haircut, same van, same shirt, same paintings of Mount Mansfield, again and again. Both of them struggle with intimacy, embarrassing themselves in front of potential partners at different times.

Which I appreciated. Katherine is good at her job, but Williams doesn't play her as some hyper-competent person, a complete contrast to a guy who is a walking disaster. She's smart, organized, but a little awkward and indecisive. Like Carl, when it comes to being honest with people, she stinks. Katherine couldn't tell Carl she was feeling neglected, Carl couldn't just talk to her about how her actions hurt him. Now she gets flustered around Ambrosia, blurting things out at inopportune times. Carl certainly enjoys the attention the younger staff members offer, but he gets anxious when one tries to put the moves on him and keeps trying to distract her. He can't just say he's not into her like that. Katherine can't just tell Ambrosia she's still in love with Carl.

There's a scene I like, after Carl's star has completely fallen at the station, where Katherine tries to return one of his paintings without being noticed. And Williams does a great job, the halting way she starts towards his door, then turns back, then dives into a snowbank to avoid being seen. The panicked flailing and instinctive (poor) attempts to hide, her visible terror at the thought of being spotted. You can tell she does not want to have to explain why she's there, maybe because she's not sure of the answer.

Along those same lines, Ciara plays Ambrosia as someone who can be very cheerful and friendly, but is not above getting competitive or frustrated. She's very respectful to Carl when they first meet, even as he's too absorbed in his own world to reciprocate. But when Carl pitches the idea of a fundraiser for the station where each of them paint a portrait of the biggest donor, she's all in. She's not playing the awed newbie for him any longer. Though Carl ultimately humiliates himself there, Ambrosia absolutely wanted to draw a higher bid than him, was frustrated she didn't, and also wanted to finish her portrait first. He threw down the gauntlet, and she was more than willing to pick it up.

As her relationship with Katherine falls apart, Ambrosia grows increasingly moody and spiteful, mockingly doing her own paintings of Mount Mansfield as a jab at Carl. But it's also a plea to Katherine. I can do these paintings too! I'll do as many of them for you as you want! Just forget about him! It's a nice contrast to Carl, who as he sinks into depression, just paints a canvas solid black (it's Mount Mansfield, at night) and seems disconnected from the world, needing several seconds to respond. He withdraws, Ambrosia lashes out, Katherine is just looking for the exit. 

Wilson plays the guy he usually does. Superficially nice, but self-absorbed in that clueless, idiot way a lot of his characters are. He tries to win the station staff back to his side by giving them gifts, but the gifts are just merch with his face on them. But when Ambrosia steps in and mentions she made a unique painting for each of them, Carl doesn't try to stop them from going. He knows it's a nice gesture, even if it burns him up how eager they are to get the paintings and discard his offerings.

That doesn't stop him from driving around town stealing newspapers with a lead article proclaiming him tired and unimaginative, while praising Ambrosia as a breath of fresh air, one of several scenes I found hilarious. Just the pitiful desperation, driving down the middle of a residential street in a van everyone will recognize, screeching to a stop every few seconds to dart out and steal a newspaper off someone's porch.

There were a couple of times I thought the movie was going a direction it didn't. Katherine mentions, while checking the recordings of Carl's old shows still play, that he used to draw a lot more stuff than just Mount Mansfield. Carl responds with some comment about following a dream, which I dismissed as just pap. It turns out to be relevant. I thought the disaster with the fundraiser was going to reveal he'd been painting landscapes so long he couldn't remember how to do anything else. Maybe because I remembered a Bob Ross episode where he mentions he wasn't very good at painting people, so that's why he stuck to landscapes.

The reason turns out to be something both deeper and sadder. It leads him to the Burlington Museum of Art, in pursuit of that dream he alluded to with Katherine. While that trip ended in humiliation, I thought, when he returned to the barn where he kept all his paintings, the trip would have opened his eyes to a new vision of what art could be. We were going to see Cubist Carl Nargle, or Post-Modernist Carl Nargle! And it would turn out nobody wants that. They just want him to paint the mountains. But also, they're tired of him painting mountains. So he would just paint for himself. Something like that.

And he does, eventually, take the advice he received from the museum curator to heart. But first, he flips out and throws paint everywhere, even using his afro like a brush. Which ends in another punchline that made me laugh. That was a pleasant surprise, that the movie was actually funny to me; I was worried it was going to mostly be cringe elements, like much of Dream Scenario, and I would barely be able to watch it. And there are times where Carl starts doing something you can see is going to be hugely embarrassing from a mile off and I had to look away.

But it turned out to be very funny, I think because everyone gets to be a mess in different ways. Stressed from a job they can't do, unsatisfied with the job they've got. Still guilty over a past mistake, or frustrated the person they love won't love them back. Pursuing what they think is a dream, only to find reality isn't as impressive as they hoped. Convincing themselves they're living that dream, when it only works so long as nothing changes, about them or anyone else. And they get to lash out, or act the fool, or be petty, and it frequently backfires. 

* People keep saying it's a painting of a UFO drenched in blood, but it isn't. The flying saucer is clean, all the blood is pouring from the center of it, straight down onto the stump.  

What I Bought 8/29/2026 - Part 1

August has dragged on forever. So sick of this month. It doesn't help that we're experiencing yet another full week of hellish temperatures. Today we're looking at two books from early in this miserable, interminable month.

The Deadman #3, by W. Maxwell Prince (writer), Martin Morazzo (artist), Chris O'Halloran (colorist), Good Old Neon (letterer) - Well, at least he's dressed in the right color for the party.

Deadman descends into Hell to ask Lucifer about the demon he faced in issue 1. For some reason, Rama Kushna makes him take along the ghost kid, Bobby, that tags at his heels in Purgatory. So down they go.

This issue really seems like an opportunity to for Morazzo to do a lot of different stuff. I mean, I'm sure there's some deeper significance to the version of Hell that Prince has opted for, but whatever theological or literary references he's making are lost on me.

So the first level, dubbed "Button", a place for those who, 'let the elevator door close as someone ran towards it calling, "Wait!"', is done like, what I'd think of as the art in a Middle Ages church. Oddly-shaped figures and animals, drawing hair like a depiction of the wind. There's a page of mostly prose that adds a little backstory to the man using the demons to keep himself young, with just one image along the right side of the page.

When Deadman and Bobby reach level 6 "Full Stop", they find the fracking magnate Deadman supposedly sent to Heaven in issue 1. Turns out Lucifer's got veto power, and the guy gets to spend eternity having his organs ripped out and devoured by Cerberus, only to for everything to regenerate. Anyway, there's a page of charts and graphs - this is apparently level 7 - that depict the course of the man's life and show that he should, in fact, be damned. Frankly, it's a messy page, but it figures Hell would be full of people who don't know how to properly organize a powerpoint slide.

The page of the 8th level is all negative space, white outlines against a solid back backdrop, before they reach Lucifer. Who laughs at the idea anyone other than him gets final say on whether someone is damned or saved. Wait, they're letting the Devil decide? What idiot made that system? Oh, right, God. The same moron that allegedly created this fucked-up place we live in. "Lucy" gets a good laugh at Deadman's notion that Rama Kushna wouldn't tell him about this arrangement, so now Deadman's going to yell at God. Good luck with that.

Chachu #1, by Iman Vellani (writer), Marianna Ignazzi (artist), Jordie Bellaire (colorist), Lucas Gattoni (letterer) -  Strong "teen trying to look cool," vibes. To her credit, she's doing a lot better than I would have managed. 

In 1979, Leila has come to Los Angeles. She's starting college soon, but she's really here to look for an uncle she's never met, who left home for reasons no one can agree on (or they won't tell her the truth if they do.) She finds him, he notices her, she panics, her car collides with his wife's car as said wife tears ass away from their home.

They talk, though she doesn't get the answers she's looking for. Well, it wouldn't be a mini-series if it was that easy, would it. Her internal narration, or her diary, whatever form the caption boxes are meant to be, is definitely overdone. 'His mustache sat too politely under his nose - like it was there to chaperone his more boyish features.' It's a nice line, but as my dad would says, veers too far into Raymond Chandler territory. Leila's also obviously trying to appear more mature than she is, thinking of this as some grand adventure of discovery, so it fits.

Leila is woken in the night by a gun in her face. Her Chachu has a visitor, his father-in-law, who is a movie producer, I think. If so, it's in the sense it makes a convenient cover for criminal activities and threats. Hence the armed goons and the midnight visit. He wants to know where his daughter went, because she needs to be there for a big movie premiere.

And while Leila's shaken enough to almost start crying, she's recovered enough confidence by the next day to insist her uncle can't use her car without taking her, too. So it's off to Vegas, where Cleo is visiting old girlfriends when she gets attacked. By people very interested in stealing her wedding ring. Fortunately some lantern-jawed leading man shows up and chloroforms her, so he can carry her to safety. Which is not doing much to dispel Chachu's notion this is all a publicity stunt his father-in-law engineered.

Ignazzi's art reminds me a bit of Chris Samnee's. Not as squared-off, bit softer in the linework, but a similar vibe. Also not as heavy on the solid blacks, but this story isn't quite as dark as some of the stuff I've seen Samnee draw. At least, not yet. I really like how Ignazzi draws Leila, with the huge sunglasses and the coat with the massive fur trim collar. It could be meant as a disguise, but it comes off like a child wearing their parents' clothes. She wants to project the image of an adult, but it just comes off as an obvious act. Her face is also more rounded than anyone else's, her eyes bigger relative to her face. She's still just a kid, but she wants badly to be an adult. Get the answers she thinks everyone withholds because she's too young.

Sunday Splash Page #442

"Cap-Snake," in Avengers Assemble #4, by Steve Orlando (writer), Valentina Pinti (artist), Sonia Oback and Fer Sifuentes-Sujo (color artists), Cory Petit (letterer)

After the whole mess with Blood Hunt, Captain America decided they needed a crew of Avengers that were always ready to respond to any crisis. I'm pretty sure that was kind of what the Avengers were for. Confronting threats no single hero could handle alone? What the hell are the regular Avengers, in the main book, doing if not that?

So Cap's Avengers Emergency Response Squad - AVENG.E.R.S., yes, they turned just the last three letters into an acronym - use the old Avengers Mansion as HQ, and whoever is there when a call comes in rolls out to face it. So, again, it's the Avengers, just more haphazard about who's on duty?

Cheap shots at the concept aside, this wasn't bad. The team is a nice mix of long-standing Avengers and new ones. Besides Captain America, you've got the Wasp, Hawkeye, Hercules, Wonder Man, She-Hulk, Monica Rambeau (going as Photon), Living Lightning, Shang-Chi, Night Thrasher and Lightspeed. A little light on scientists - basically Night Thrasher - and not much magic - basically Hercules - but it's a good blend of personalities, and a big enough roster Orlando can grab a different group of 4 to 5 in every issue to confront whatever the immediate crisis is.

In issue 1, the Red Skull's daughter gets hold of some helm from a goddess of hate, and it starts to amp up Cap, Wasp, and Monica's natural assertiveness until the three of them are butting heads and sniping over who should be giving orders. Shang-Chi's the one with enough spiritual awareness to fight the pull and get them back rowing the same direction.

Issue 2, an entire town is swarmed with ghost apes, so you end up with Cap, Hawkeye, Night Thrasher and Hercules. Herc being a demi-god means he can actually punch ghosts, and apparently understand all languages? Thrasher's the one who detects a lot of cosmic radiation. Hawkeye's the one actually trying to interpret what the apes are silently saying, because of his experience being deaf and all.

The overarching plot is the revitalized Serpent Society is using these crises as cover for smaller heists, and the AVENG.E.R.S slowly figuring that out. Specifically, the Society is stealing weird crap to create some potion that turns people into snake-people, in service of Mephisto (the "true Serpent"), who they now worship. I tend to prefer the Serpents as crooks who work together to improve their odds of pulling off a score rather than cultist wack-a-doodles, but it's not the worst set-up, I guess. Orlando adds a couple of new serpents, including a big one called Titanoboa that Viper treats like some genius of the human mind because he correctly predicted Captain America would throw himself on a vial of the toxin to protect a teammate.

I guess given the usual pinheads that work in the Society, even that basic level of observation is considered noteworthy.

Orlando also makes sure to devote a few pages each issue to interactions between the Avengers at the Mansion, awaiting the next crisis. In issue 2, we get a page of Lightspeed fangirling over the Wasp, and being assured that she can handle being an Avenger, plus a couple of pages of Living Lightning making Shang-Chi watch some apparently terrible movie starring Schwarzenegger and Wonder Man. They're little things, but it's a way to establish personalities and let the characters bounce off each other outside combat.

One thing that doesn't work in the book's favor is the churn of art teams. Every issue has a different artist. Besides Pinti, you have Cory Smith, Scot Eaton, Marcelo Ferreira, and Jose Luis. Most tend towards a more grounded, realistic-leaning style. Nothing wildly exaggerated. Likewise, Oback's colors tend to be muddy and dulled. Nothing leaps off the page and demands your attention.

I don't like that approach for this book. This isn't some gritty, back alleys, espionage-focused squad. It's confronting people dressed as snakes, the ghosts of tormented apes, and groups trying to kill those turned into vampires against their will, with whoever happens to be available. Hercules is hitting people with a glowing adamantine mace. Monica Rambeau is doing a better than terminal velocity crash into the Red Skull's daughter with Captain America's shield. That sort of stuff should lean towards four-color, bright and dynamic art.

This ran for 5 issues as a mini-series, after which it became an online comic. Or Infinity comics, whatever they were calling them. I didn't follow it - see my comments two weeks ago about not being big on reading comics online - so I don't know what happened after.

Saturday Splash Page #244

"Not Their Mess," in Unstoppable Doom Patrol #5, by Dennis Culver (writer), Chris Burnham (artist), Brian Reber (colorist), Pat Brosseau (letterer)

A 7-issue mini-series originally solicited as a 6-issue mini-series in 2023, Unstoppable Doom Patrol took place in the aftermath of, I think, Lazarus Planet. A DC event where the entire planet got rained on with Lazarus Pit juice and gave a bunch of people new powers. Something like that; I pay less attention to DC's Big Events than I do Marvel.

Point being, there's a crap-ton of new people with powers, many who can't control them, or are being exploited. The Doom Patrol find them, rescue them, bring them back to a massive underground facility - lovingly depicted in cross-section by Burnham and Reber across two pages in issue 2 - where they can be safe, and also learn to control their powers. Hmm, where have I heard most of this before? Eh, maybe the Doom Patrol have a long history of that sort of thing; I know there's the occasional influx of new characters, who are usually slaughtered by the next writer. *glances in Keith Giffen's direction*

The core roster is Robotman, Elasti-Woman, Negative Man, a new character called Beast Girl that can affect the fight or flight part of your brain, and a person with new powers that run off anger who gleefully calls himself Degenerate. The Chief is now one of Crazy Jane's various personalities. Long-time characters like Niles Caulder and Mento are around, but Caulder's sidelined into an advisory role, and Mento spends most of his time in a tube, and is limited in what he's allowed to do. Which doesn't feel very much like taking care of a metahuman to me. At least, not in a way different from how the people experimenting on Degenerate would.

Culver really leans into the idea of the Doom Patrol as outsiders from the rest of the superhuman community. They butt heads with Batman in the first issue, which is also where I learn that, at least as far as the Chief is concerned, the Flash is the only metahuman on the Justice League. Aliens, Atlanteans, and Amazons don't count. I assume that would extend to sorceresses, androids, and guys who drink a potion that lets them stretch, or however it is Dibny's powers work. Aren't Aquaman and Wonder Woman kind of mutants by the standards of their people? What about Metamorpho, or Firestorm? Black Lightning? Oh well, it's just the Chief gatekeeping who gets to be part of the community. Nothing troubling about that!

In issue 3, Robotman and Negative Man haul ass cross-country, Guy Gardner and Kyle Rayner on their heels, because their latest rescue is a guy that seems to be getting along with the Starro clamped to his face.

The primary antagonist is a government agency, led by Peacemaker. Still outfitted like he is in the comics and the John Cena TV show, including the bedpan helmet, but not nearly as much of a dumbass. More a sadist, who figures anything is acceptable to "protect" his country. Including giant robots with "PEACE" stamped on them. At least the giant robots aren't purple. 

Running in the background, at least until it steps into the foreground, is a plot by certain parts of the Brotherhood of Evil. Mallah turns on the Brain and sides with General Immortus in a plan involving candle wax, a magic ritual, and the grave of former Doom Patrol cast member Dorothy. Something about humanity's fear of the world's end via nuclear fire using her powers to take physical form, and now it's back, in Immortus' body. His withered, decrepit, nasty body.

A big fight spans the last two issues, but it's more about the actions the Doom Patrol take. The Chief trusts Caulder not to work behind her back to retake control, and they encourage Mento to fully let loose with his powers, and trust that they'll keep him from abusing that. The Chief also steps back to let Jane talk with The Quiz - every superpower you've never thought of, does it reset after each fight? - and convince her to help them. When Peacemaker shows up at the end, Degenerate chooses to cover everyone's retreat, trusting they'll rescue him later.

The mini-series went from 6 to 7 issues because DC decided to have some weird mini-event during the summer, where almost everyone on Earth was magically put to sleep, Robotman being one of the few exceptions. So Doom Patrol got a one-shot Burnham drew, and this book got a mid-series fill-in with art by David LaFuente. LaFuente's art is much more exaggerated than Burnham's, but the issue is focused on the team's mental health professional, who uses her power to access the 5th dimension to help people deal with what's on their minds by projecting it. So it's what people feel or perceive, rather than what's true, so more realistic art wouldn't really fit.

Burnham handles the other 6 issues (Reber colors all 7). His style is closer to realistic, but not in a constrained way. He can draw weird, and get detailed, both of which seem essential if you're going to draw a Doom Patrol book. The blob monster up there was an attempt by a corporation to create a superhuman that automatically adapts to threats presented to it. As you can see, it needed a bit more testing. The Brotherhood have a lady with tiger heads for hands, there's a creepy little girl with living, curly, blonde hair. Burnham draws those without them seeming out of place. In the Doom Patrol's world, stuff like that is normal. Degenerate's body morphs and shifts depending how angry he is. Mostly in terms of getting spikier, but also bulking up. Beast Girl has an adorable, fuzzy look that matches her bubbly, eager personality.

The one downside is the book, after a panel promising the Doom Patrol would return, ends with the "Eternal Flame" being dumped into the Bleed and encountering Danny the Street, who is being tortured by the Batwoman Who Laughs. *weary sigh* I never understood why "Batman who is a Joker" was supposed to be such a multiversal threat, so I really don't understand why Batwoman Who Is A Joker is what someone thinks is a good dun-dun-DUUUUUN teaser for the Doom Patrol. Not that it matters; there's a new Doom Patrol book starting up soon, and I can't tell that it's going to pay any attention to this mini-series. 

Random Back Issues #174 - The Power Company #11

Gumbo's Eats-A-Teria, where the food is as terrible as the name! And most of the customers are ex-cons, looking to get thrown back in the stir, I mean, looking for work. Unfortunately for three of them, they had their discussion one booth over from where Bork and Sapphire were enjoying their dinners. So those two, plus Manhunter, invite themselves along to the meeting.

It's going smoothly, no real challenge, when suddenly, there's smoke, and drums. Someone knows how to make an entrance. Someone big enough to toss Manhunter around like a doll. Someone who can, to Manhunter's surprise, use "effrontery" correctly. Too bad the guy couldn't pick a better name than "Mourn."

Worse for him that Firestorm shows up, and takes Mourn out in 4 panels. After which he apologizes he didn't do something flashier. Right, flashier than making the floor mist, causing a water pipe to open, then turning the water to steel, except for the part closest to Mourn's face, which got turned to chloroform. Dull as dishwater. Manhunter assures him he did fine, and even though this gig didn't pay, he's very happy.

The reason becomes clear at a press conference meant to introduce Firestorm as the newest associate of the company. Manhunter interrupts to explain the men they busted were part of Shadowspire, some apparently notorious group that once infiltrated the federal government and even killed two Senators. Shadowspire was supposed to have been taken down years ago, but the files the Power Company found today may (load-bearing word there), once they've been studied, suggest Shadowspire's back, stronger than ever.

But the Power Company will be happy to help! And it won't cost one cent more than regular consultation fee rates.

All of which is news to Firestorm. These guys were still recruiting small-time hoods. They were based in a garage! They stole the Mourn suit from a government warehouse! Exactly, they've already resumed infiltrating the government through its most vulnerable point: un-monitored storage facilities.

Before he and Skyrocket can discuss it further, it's time for Firestorm to meet the press. Ronnie explains it as, he was initially unsure about Manhunter and Witchfire's offer, but they talked it out and reached an agreement. What we see is he was flat broke, JLA stipend (from Batman, or is it Atlantean and Amazonian gold?) burned on back rent and tuition, dreading eating another relish sandwich. Manhunter, after making a crack about getting to Firestorm after Blue Beetle turned them down, shows Ronnie what his starting salary will be and, well. . .

After how he handled Mourn, maybe Firestorm ought to ask for a raise. I like Blue Beetle, but Ted Kord isn't changing water into steel/sleeping gas. 

In the background, Skyrocket and Manhunter have an angry, whispered conversation about how he's lying just to drum up business. Manhunter argues nothing he said was false. It was Shadowspire, they did do the things he said, the files may, in fact, reveal the organization to be far larger and better organized than they appeared today. But if it is fraud, then it certainly wouldn't be in the company's best interests if someone, say another major shareholder like Skyrocket, to denounce him publicly.

Then he steps forward to help a floundering Firestorm with the press, leaving Skyrocket to stew over what she can actually do to counter this kind of stuff while Josiah Power's in a coma. She decides to contact Witchfire. As the third shareholder, she's the deciding vote, and firmly in Manhunter's, "all about the Benjamins" camp, unless Skyrocket can convince her otherwise.

But the pop star-turned-sorceress is in Louisiana with Striker Z, trying to track down a magic sword for the Lords of Trinius, who will pay well. Striker's a little concerned if it's smart to give the sword to these guys, who might enslave the world with it. Sensing he's thinking too much like Skyrocket, Witchfire plays the, "I saw you like Nickelback. I can bring you to meet them next time they play in L.A." card.

No doubt summoned by that cursed name, some many-tentacled thing with a lot of teeth sneak attacks. As Striker Z gets dragged under, Witchfire's surprised to find one of her arms missing, and the stump is just glowing yellow energy. 

{8th longbox, 90th comic. The Power Company #11, by Kurt Busiek (writer), Tom Grummett (penciler), Prentis Rollins (inker), Guy Major (colorist), Comicraft (letterer)}

Giving Thanks The Solicit Table Isn't Entirely Barren

November's solicitations were better than I expected. 2025, I was down to almost nothing by the end of  the year, and then it built back up (briefly) in the spring. There aren't a ton of new things I'm interested in, but "any" is better than "none." Although, I would swear when that Hector Plasm mini-series wrapped last year, Cereno said there was another one coming out this year. No sign of it so far!

What's new? Marvel has the first issue of Friendly Neighborhood Mary Jane, where MJ is now a producer, trying to get a project off the ground, despite sabotage attempts by the Chameleon. So it feels like Ashley Allen is taking a cue from the short-lived Amazing Mary Jane series, where MJ was basically acting like a producer and problem-solver for Mysterio's biopic. Not the worst idea, although I'm not enthused about Phil Noto as artist. But on the plus side, I saw a Venom solicit that said the symbiote's back with Eddie Brock, so maybe MJ's out of symbiote hell. Fingers crossed! 

Red 5 has The Agony of Stars, a 4-issue mini-series by Kim Ousley and Etienne Derepentigny about a serial killer targeting the retired members of an elite police squad. And Antarctic Press has Fang Hunters, which sounds like a humorous Western crossed with horror elements, in outer space. It could be a complete mess with all that stuff (one of the vampire bounty hunting crew may be a gorilla, if the cover is accurate), but it might work.

Abrams has Lantern Pass, by Serge Lehman and Peeters. It seems like kind of the standard plot of some investigators from the city coming to an insular community and stirring up things the locals would rather keep buried, but the cover was very cool. So if that's representative of Peeters' work, it might be worth it for the atmospheric art alone. 

What's ending? Generation X-23 wraps at 10 issues, to the surprise of, probably, no one.

And the rest? I am, however, surprised that Marc Spector: Moon Knight isn't wrapping up at 10. I figured this entire run was building to some new Midnight Suns book MacKay was going to write, but nope. Instead Moon Knight and Tigra are teaming up with Hank Pym, no doubt so Marc and Hank can compare who's fucking up more lately. D'Orc's 10th issue also involves the title character teaming up with someone better off being avoided, but it's a golem that wants to kill him.

I don't think The Deadman is ending at 6 issues, although the solicit saying 'last first adventure' makes me wonder. Batgirl 25 bring David Cain into play, so I guess Brombal's going for a mirroring of Cass' first ongoing, where it was mostly focused on David, but the 25th issue was a throwdown with Lady Shiva. Daimon Scott's going to be drawing some of it, at least.

Fantastic Four is done with DNX tie-ins, and North is not going back to the time travel well - yet. Vampyrates! is wrapping up its first arc with the pirate (pyrate?) crew learning a big secret, but under fire from a hostile fleet. Chachu and The Matron are both on their fourth issues, and Lilith: Blood and Burlesque 2 has the title character fighting for her life against a demon butler.

Marvel's also releasing one of those facsimile versions of Emperor Doom,  an OGN I had been toying with getting. This might be cheaper than the versions I see in the places I usually look, so maybe I'll get that.

Eephus (2024)

A pair of adult rec league baseball teams meet for the final game at their local field, before it's paved over to make room for a new middle school. The game carries on from the afternoon into the night, with the few fans, the umps, and even some of the players drifting away. The rest keep playing, determined to see the game through to the proper ending they think the field deserves.

The film moves at the pace of a baseball game, which is to say, leisurely. We see a lot of the game action. The actors were expected to at least approximate playing, and you can tell which ones had more experience, especially when it comes to sliding. But these are mostly middle-aged guys, playing a game they loved for decades. Greying beards, scraggly hair and beer guts. They shouldn't look graceful, and they sure don't.

Apperson Paint's leftfielder could do a pretty convincing Santa Claus impression, based on his body shape. The Riverdogs' pitcher has a goofy windup that suggests he saw Craig Kimbrel and decided to look even stupider. Apperson's back-up pitcher has the mustache and pitching motion of an escapee from the Dead Ball era. Their catcher, by the later innings, is sitting on a footstool behind the plate, because his knees can't take it. 

That's part of what's perfect about the film. In a sense, this game means nothing. The teams aren't playing for anything other than bragging rights. Guys on the same team are all wearing different shirts, united only by colors. Apperson's coach leaves (reluctantly) mid-game because he was about to miss his niece's christening. Another guy gets fed up and just drives away. Yet that guy also got incredibly pissed when the other team, knowing he was on a diet, started taunting him by calling out different types of food while he was batting. Then the ump made them cut it out. 'Am I in a deli? Am I trying to sell you ham?' was my favorite line.

The Riverdogs' first baseman keeps bragging about the fireworks he bought to set off after the game, even lying about what a deal he got on them. Their goofy pitcher, after taking a line drive to the chest, ices it down in between innings with a beer. When their coach tells him not to put that one back in the cooler, Troy shrugs and pops the beer, taking a long swig. When one player finds no coach at third base to advise him, he decides to just be his own third base coach, including having fake conversations with himself. This does not go well.

Later, when Troy says he needs a breather, a random guy (actually former major leaguer Bill "Spaceman" Lee) who just showed up because he played on this field decades ago and wanted to see it one last time, agrees to pitch an inning. In his slacks and polo shirt. Then Troy resumes pitching the next inning like nothing happened. Despite one player pimping his home run to dead center with a nice slow trot around the bases, or another guy screaming at his teammate for being too conservative in whether to send runners or not, this is nothing like a serious game.

And yet, given multiple opportunities to call it, they keep playing, unwilling to let it end in a tie. The first baseman tries bribing one of the umps to stick around longer, using pork loins he won in a meat lottery. When it gets too dark, they drive their cars onto the edge of the field and use headlights. The scorer tries to ump from the empty press box. Players wander the woods retrieving baseballs because they're running out. Whether for pride, or just a refusal to let go of something that's been a big part of their lives for who knows how many years, they won't just, stop and say enough. The game ends only when it truly ends.

Which makes it sound like some horrible, purgatorial existence. I don't think that's the vibe intended, but watching them stagger around like blind men, trying to field baseballs they can't even see, has a certain feel of torment to it.

But release is no blessing. The losing pitcher sits down on the mound, head between his knees, dejected he couldn't pull off the win. Even though he was probably the victim of an umpire who couldn't actually see anything by that point. (I wasn't sure if the ump/scorer was blinking so much because he was getting sleepy, or he just had bad night vision.)

There are frequent asides in between innings. Two children of one player wondering why these adults care so much when they're not actually any good. An elderly man who has probably been coming to this field for decades, explaining to the mother of the children that you don't eat pizza at ballgames, and why do they need a school anyway? The kids can get experience working at a ballgame, flipping burgers or selling hot dogs. Two stoners spend a couple of innings standing beyond the outfield fence, asking snide questions of one of the players.

All of them wander off into the wider world long before the game concludes. It was just a temporary diversion, and once they got bored, or cold, or hungry, they decided to find something else to do. The only ones left were the players, and even if the winners are too weary to really celebrate, their dugout is significantly more talkative afterward than the losers. They're tired, they're sore, some of them will be hungover tomorrow. Some of them are already hungover. But hey, they won. If this is the end, they go out on top.

Simple Soul's Afire

This is probably not true, but I might as well believe it, as I have more faith in John Allison than whatever an internet search would tell me.

Volume 3 of Bad Machinery, The Case of the Simple Soul, finds Tackleford beset by a series of fires over summer vacation. Unfortunately, our mystery-solving squads are less than full strength, as Jack and Shauna are now in luuuurve, and spend all their time smooching or staring into each other's eyes.

Disgusting, and yet, it opens up new avenues for investigation. In between discussing whether being dismembered is an activity better shared, Shauna and Jack discover a large, shirtless man who lives under a bridge. What sheltered existences, that they've never seen a meth addict. Jack doesn't want to interrupt his summer of luuuurve with an investigation, so Shauna passes word to Charlotte and Mildred. 

Who promptly decide what this guy needs is some spiffing up, so he can meet a nice lady. I, uh, eh, but, sigh, OK. I now see what Shauna brings to the table: she's the only one not completely bonkers. Though Mildred and Charlotte seem to get along, Mildred doesn't have the pull on Lotte that Shauna does. At least in terms of distracting her from disastrous ideas like washing a fox. Meanwhile, Sonny and Linton are, despite their best efforts, being drawn into investigating the fires by the new kid at school.

Colm, when not nicking things from the store for thrills - I assume that's what, 'for the craic' means - develops an immediate and doomed crush on Charlotte. Although he seems to get his head turned by most every woman. The French assistant, the local scandal rag writer Erin Winters. Just like a real teenage boy! I miss those confusing, hormonal days. Well, mostly I miss my hair, and my shoulder not making clicking noises when I rotate it. Also, I note here that according to Linton, Charlotte's derisive nickname is Potty Grote. Which makes me think, given childrens' desire to rhyme, her last name is pronounced "grotty,", when all this time I assumed it was "groat."

Anyway, when things aren't progressing fast enough, Colm passes the info about Troll on to the fire department. In John Allison's world, firemen are apparently what cops here in the U.S. are like: Aggro lunatics with too little supervision and too much access to dangerous implements. But it's the girls' unsuccessful attempt to send the big fella on a date that gets a full-blown mob going. This does allow Shauna and Mildred's dads to show they're sensible people who recognize the dangers of mobs, but does not help Miss Perks find a proper fella.

From there, we get a few red herrings before a last-second, out of left field reveal of the true firebug. Incidentally and totally not significant, wink-wink, this is the first story that involves Charlotte's future mystery-solving sidekick Claire. Who has a huge crush on Colm and is the daughter of the fire chief. This story demonstrates a side of her I'd not seen any evidence of in Wicked Things, so it was quite surprising seeing how she started.

Sunday Splash Page #441

"Caldera Sunset," in Avatar the Last Airbender: Ashes of the Academy, by Faith Erin Hicks (writer), Peter Wartman (artist),  Adele Matera (colorist), Richard Starkings and Jimmy Betancourt (letterers)

I reviewed this 7 weeks ago, so we're not going too heavily into the story itself. It's about how reactionary forces will argue against changing things, usually on the value of tradition, or the importance of respecting the past. That if you try to change how something has always (for a particular value of "always") been done, you're saying everyone's ancestors were wrong, or the past is wrong, and why do you hate the past? Mostly though, the way things are suits them fine, and they don't want to even risk losing what they've got by changing anything.

That's not exactly news to anyone watching the world around us, so I'm going to talk about Mai. She is, after all, my favorite character in all of Avatar: The Last Airbender.

What, Calvin is fond of the drily sarcastic lady, who is also an ace at throwing daggers? A shocking reveal to be sure.

But I like that she's a quiet character, reserved with her emotions. Not by choice, mind; her parents drilled it into her from early on to be still and quiet and well-behaved, because it would reflect poorly on them if she didn't. In Ashes of the Academy, Hicks shows in flashback that Mai's father encourages her to makes friends with Azula because it would be good for him, before catching himself and saying it would be good for her. Which I think downplays how much her parents regard her a tool for social climbing.

For a long time, years, Mai obeys, but it's malicious compliance. When we first meet her, she casually remarks how there is no fathoming the depth of her hatred for the conquered Earth Kingdom city her father has been appointed governor of. She doesn't say it loudly. There's no physical demonstration. No stamping her feet or wailing or throwing anything. That would be unseemly. But she won't play ball and express any happiness for her father or what this means for their family in terms of status. She remains quiet, reserved, dignified, but also blunt.

Life with her parents is miserable enough Mai is glad for Azula to show up with a mission. It's just swapping out whose thumb she's under, and it's to someone more powerful and ruthless. Which Azula makes clear when she tests Mai during the proposed prisoner exchange. There's a silent beat after she mentions it seems foolish to trade King Bumi, powerful earthbender that he is, for a child (Mai's baby brother), where she watches Mai. Mai watches her back, knowing it's a test. If Mai insists on the swap, she's defied Azula, and revealed her little brother is important enough to her to do that. Which means he's leverage. Which means he's in danger.

Keep in mind, Azula has already tried shooting her own brother in the face with lightning by this point. Whatever her legion of apologists might argue - and they are almost as obnoxious as Vegeta and Scott Summers apologists - Azula is bad news for anyone that doesn't do what she wants.

But at least with Azula, Mai will get to travel and fight and see new things. Which seems to be a big deal with her, she gets bored easily. So it's a little surprising she's settled into working at her aunt's flower shop at the start of Ashes of the Academy. Most of the rest of the cast are roaming the world, settling disputes or rebuilding their homes. Mai's life seems to have stalled. The teaching is an opportunity to try something new, and in her own way, show the next generation there's a better way of doing things than treating your friends as potential enemies to undermine or settling disagreements with honor duels.

Because she does believe in what Zuko's trying to accomplish. She just isn't going to blow smoke up his ass or let him walk over her. She may have stood up to Azula out of her love for Zuko, but she also learns to stand up for herself. Which, given that he's the brooding, morally conflicted guy most of the fandom is hot for, means she takes a lot of shit for not being "good enough" for him. She threw something at him once! Yes, the letter he left behind to break up with her, and never mind that time Zuko threw a guy across the room and yelled at Mai for daring to talk to said guy.

She objected to his keeping secrets from her! Yes, the secret that he was taking advice on governing from his genocidal, abusive father, something Mai would surely have told him was a stupid idea. Because it was. Also, Zuko didn't tell her there'd been attempts on his life, because he seemed to think she needed to be protected from that, after she already risked her life to save him from Azula. But feeling that he doesn't trust her, and that she doesn't have to put up with that, is apparently unreasonable.

They're both damaged teens with basically zero adults to model a healthy relationship so, yeah, there's some hiccups. But Zuko gets googly-eyed basically any time he's around her in Season 3, and is still trying to show he trusts her in Ashes of the Academy, so he's clearly not given up on rebuilding a connection with her. And Zuko's basically the only one who gets Mai to genuinely smile in Season 3, and she does end up accepting the job as teacher, even though he failed to consult with her before nominating her for the position.

Which is the sort of theft of control that she should probably resent, given her history with her parents and Azula. Yet Mai only actually gets irritated when she thinks Zuko's checking up on the job she's doing. Basically, when she thinks he's doubting her professionalism and commitment. And the issue is resolved with a quiet conversation. As Ty Lee notes, no knives or firebending! Progress!

Anyway, I'd definitely buy more of these ATLA graphic novels if they'd focus on Mai. I've always kind of wanted to see one where she returns to Omashu to make amends for her family's time as invaders. Partially because it might be good for her, mostly because I want to see what weird tests Bumi would put her through as penance, that were really just him fucking around (and maybe trying to teach her something about herself.)

Saturday Splash Page #243

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Let It Go, Before It Drags You Under

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Overdue Movie Reviews #15 - Necessary Roughness (1991)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What I Bought 8/12/2026 - Part 2

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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