Superheroes – Nicolas Demers

Game Review: Batman: Arkham Asylum

I’d heard the hype about this game, and eventually got to play the first few chapters at a friend’s place. I was so hooked that I decided to rent a disc and console so I could play it for myself. Everything about it is excellent, from the graphics to the gameplay to the story. Everything.

That was absolutely awesome.

For one, the voice acting is first-rate: Batman, Joker and Harley Quinn are played by the same excellent actors as in the 90’s Batman animated series (oh, how I missed Mark Hamill’s demented giggles, and Arleen Sorkin cooing “Pudd’n”!). The other voices—Bane, Scarecrow, Riddler, Poison Ivy, Killer Croc, Commissioner Gordon, Oracle—are also all great. Hell, even the generic batarang-fodder henchmen sell their lines pretty well.

The visuals are beautifully done, from the brooding asylum grounds, to the oppressive Victorian architecture, to the crumbling sewers, and every environment is full of little details that add to the gloomy Gothic atmosphere. Batman’s hi-tech armor and toys looked very nice too.

The game controls are quite complex, and there’s no tutorial as such. That’s okay, though: the game introduces elements gradually enough—moving, looking around, fighting, etc…—that before you know it you’ll be tossing out Twin Batarangs with the best of them. All you have to do is remember which button does what. As for the upgrade system, it’s pretty cool, but I didn’t find that it gave you a lot of room to customise: in the end you’ll have pretty much all available skills, it’s just a question of which to get first. (hint: “Inverted Takedown” is the shiznit.)

Replay value? I’ve only gone through the game one and a half times so I can’t say for sure, but I could probably play it a couple more times, if only to see what the “Hard” difficulty level is all about. Also, I could try out some of the more advanced fighting techniques, and see how much of the bonus material I could get my hands on. On my one complete playthrough I only discovered about half the trophies and unlockable extras, including just under half of Arkham’s Chronicles.

Which brings me to the story. On the surface, it’s pretty simple: Joker and Harley Quinn have taken control of the asylum, and Batman must save staff and other innocents, all the while figuring out the Clown Prince of Crime’s true intentions. It’s an engaging story, bringing together many characters from the Batman universe. The writers’ love for the mythos is evident in the little details, like the iconic clatter of pearls when Batman, hallucinating on Scarecrow’s fear gas, is forced to relive his parents’ murder. And Harley Quinn telling a captive Jim Gordon, “Mama spank!”. Plus, nods to sillier villains like Scarface and Calendar Man.

But there’s more. A lot of the extra world building was clearly inspired by the graphic novel Arkham Asylum: A Serious House on Serious Earth, written by Grant Morrison and illustrated by Dave McKean in 1989. It’s the kind of deliciously trippy mind-fuck only Morrison can deliver, delving deep into Lewis Carroll, Jung, Crowleyian magic and other esoteric themes, yet (at least to me) never crossing the line into random pseudo-profound mystical babble. In this story, Batman is presented as hardly more sane than the Joker and other inmates, and Arkham as a cursed house, fed and made strong by the constant flow of violently insane souls.

The “chronicles” hidden throughout the game are each short chapters in the journal of Amadeus Arkham, founder of the Asylum. From what I’ve seen (ie: the first half) it’s not too different from the original Morrison story—toned down, because this is an action-adventure game, and players don’t want to spend too much time hearing about Crowley and the Tarot and whatnot—but still pretty darn creepy and disturbing. And though they only show up in Scarecrow-induced hallucinations, the game does drop a few nice hints that Batman has, shall we say, issues.

I wish I’d found all of Arkham’s chronicles, though, because I want to see how this version of the story ends. Forget defeating the Joker, I want to know about the Asylum’s history!

So, to recap: fantastic game. It’s fun, challenging, full of atmosphere and details that show deep love for the Batman mythos. Definitely a keeper. And hey, they’re making a sequel!

Movie Review: Wolverine

Not enough naked Hugh Jackman, in my opinion. Not enough Gambit. And I squeed a little when Patrick Stewart came on screen.

Yeah, it was… all right. Not bad, but not that good either. Just sort of… there. Which I expected, I’d read a couple of reviews and few of them were glowing. Okay special effects, and Hugh Jackman is welcome on my big screen anytime, but it just couldn’t gel into something coherent. Screaming, fighting, is Logan more animal than man?

I don’t know enough about Wolverine canon to say how faithful the story is, but from what I understand it’s been retconned to hell and back for years, so who knows? And maybe because there’s so damn much of it—150 years, give or take, which is apparently canon—they had to just hit the highlights. I was expecting that too, but it still bugged as much as Spiderman 3.

They did tie it in to the wider X-Men universe, though, with Scott Summers, Blob and Professor Xavier (again, squee), which I liked. But you know what I would have liked a lot more? If the couple who took Wolverine/Logan/Jimmy in after he escaped from Stryker’s facility had been James and Heather Hudson. Wolverine was a founding member of Alpha Flight after all, and he’s the one whose backstory kicked off the series, when he was only Canadian and not 150 years old, so was a cameo too much to ask for? Anything? Kayla’s sister with “diamond-hard” skin didn’t even turn out to be Diamond Lil. Hmph.

A few things that bugged: no blood on claws or Deadpool’s swords. Did the special FX people just not think about it, or was it a deliberate choice, to show off Wolvie’s shiny new claws or not traumatise the kiddies too much? Yeah, because with all the stabbing and slicing and death, a little blood would have put it way over the top (eyeroll). And though Hugh Jackman does a good primal scream, the kid who played him in 1845? Not so much. Finally, Creed/Sabertooth’s animal jumps looked very silly in the war flashbacks (with only so-so special effects, too), and kept on not looking any less silly.

But, all in all, it was entertaining enough. It’s a good thing my expectations were pretty low.

Graphic Novel Review: Superman: Red Son

Look! Up in the sky! It’s a bird! It’s a plane! It’s Superman!

Superman: strange visitor from another world! Who can change the course of mighty rivers, bend steel in his bare hands…

And who, as the champion of the common worker, fights a never-ending battle for Stalin, socialism and the international expansion of the Warsaw Pact.

What if?

Look! Up in the sky! It’s a bird! It’s a plane! It’s Superman!

Superman: strange visitor from another world! Who can change the course of mighty rivers, bend steel in his bare hands…

And who, as the champion of the common worker, fights a never-ending battle for Stalin, socialism and the international expansion of the Warsaw Pact.

What if?

What if Superman’s ship did not land in Kansas? What if, instead of the heartland of America, it landed in the heartland of… the Ukraine? What if this Superman was raised to fight for truth, justice, and the Soviet way? This is the premise of Superman: Red Son, an 3-part DC Elseworlds miniseries published in 2003, and now conveniently collected in graphic novel form. I’d been hearing a lot of positive things about it for a while, but never got around to buying it until now.

In the interest of full disclosure, here’s another detail: Red Son was written by Mark Millar. Three years ago I wrote that he was the one who killed Northstar. Northstar got better, but I never forgot that first impression. A little later, I read the first storyline he did for The Authority (“The Nativity,” issues #13–16). You’ll have to wait for another post to get the full details, but let’s just say that I was not impressed. Bottom line, I came into this miniseries with a very low opinion of the author. So it’s possible this review is not 100% objective.

It’s the art that really grabbed me, not so much the story. Specifically, the colours. The first issue had a very limited and subdued palette: Supe’s costume is grey and dark red, with a black-and-red hammer-and-sickle where the bright yellow “S” should be. In fact, most of that issue is grey and red: the grey of clouds, concrete and black-and-white TV; the red of fire, blood and Soviet flags. I have to say, it made for a neat effect. The only breaks were the eerie green of Luthor’s lab, and Lois’ bright lavender dress upon her meeting with the Comrade of Steel. The second and third issues lightened up colour-wise, which I think is a shame since the story itself got darker and darker. But, there you go: different artists have different styles and I won’t quibble too much.

This being an Elseworlds there are plenty of references, both serious and sly, to established continuity. My favourite would be the full-page shot of Superman holding up the Daily Planet globe, a perfect call-back to the cover of Superman #1.

Batman’s “Bat-signal” is a clever take on the original, being a deliberately rough graffiti to mar Supe’s pristine tyranny. Stalingrad in a bottle? Sure, why not. And I got a chuckle at the name of the famous American defector: Thaddeus Sivana (misspelled in this comic). Heh. At least we didn’t get Mr. Mind. On the downside, we didn’t get any insight into these alternate characters. Lois pines for Superman, despite only having seen him in the flesh for a moment. Lex Luthor is an astoundingly brilliant scientist, learning Urdu and playing six games of chess at once on his coffee breaks. Wonder Woman and Themyscira are… pretty unchanged. The Man of Steel himself is still an eternally compassionate boyscout, taking over the Soviet Union after Stalin’s death and turning it into an efficient totalitarian utopia because he wants to help people. Batman is still a ruthless vigilante, the only difference being that he’s head of a terrorist conspiracy against Superman’s rule.

But I didn’t see anything new or really insightful in these adaptations, even the twist of Lois being married to Lex. Frankly, I feel that kind of Elseworlds has been done to death, and Millar isn’t the first person to ask what would happen if Superman really tried to rule the world. (For one thing, he’d be wearing a Pope hat.)

All these nods and references (inspired or not) are perfectly acceptable in an alternate-universe story. But there was one line that made me go “Oh no he di-in’t!” Early in issue #1, Superman narrates:

I had made quite an impression in the fourteen weeks since I’d made my journey from the farm lands to Moscow.

Some still thought me a trick of the light or an urban myth, but each new day saw another super-feat or some death-defying rescue.

What’s so special about this line? It’s not original to Millar, nor does it come from the Superman œuvre as far as I know. It comes courtesy of Warren Ellis to describe John Cumberland, a.k.a. “The High,” the Wildstorm universe’s answer to Superman. From Stormwatch #48 (May 1997):

We call this man The High.

His first recorded activities were in the year 1938. He visited beatings upon corrupt landlords, nazi bunds, munitions tycoons; political acts. Quietly averted a few natural disasters. But there was never solid proof of his existence. He was dismissed as an urban myth.

And from Planetary #5 (September 1999):

John Cumberland, my God… There was brave man. Most people thought him a myth, or a trick of the light…

And Millar must know about Ellis’ work, since he took over The Authority from him. So… far be it from me to accuse anyone of plagiarism, but it definitely soured my reading of Red Son. Though if anyone can offer evidence that the “trick of the light” line is actually part of the Superman myth, I will stand corrected.

One other thing that turned me off is Millar’s lack of affection for the source material. Consider the opening quote of this post, part of a Communist propaganda film. That was actually taken pretty much word for word (except for the last part, obviously) from the awesome 1940’s Superman animated shorts and other classic sources. Which is cool. What’s less cool is Millar having Perry White commenting, “Aw, gimme a break. Who writes this stuff?” Look, we know Golden Age comics were cheesy and goofy as hell. That’s why we love them. There’s no need to make these little comments that I guess try for “ironic” but land on “obnoxious.” Also “hypocritical,” since he makes a living writing for the funny-books, though I guess it’s okay if he makes them all dark and bloody and junk.

And there were other parts that didn’t piss me off so much as… make me shake my head. Sloppy writing that should have been caught by an editor. When Superman leaves his own party, he finds the drunk and suicidal Pyotr two hundred miles away. But suddenly he hears people shouting for help in Moscow “two miles away”? Sivana’s name spelled with an extra “n”? The Moscow subway sign spelled in English but with a backward “S”? Then you’ve got Supe’s inner monologue, as he prevents Sputnik from crashing into Metropolis.

Sputnik Two weighed five thousand pounds. That mass multiplied by an acceleration factor of a hundred meters per second would have delivered a force powerful enough to level the entire city.

Okay, time for a refresher physics course: a hundred meters per second is a measure of speed, not acceleration. And energy (not force), is a function of mass multiplied by speed squared. Also, Sputnik-2 weighed a little over 500kg, or about 1,100 pounds. Seriously, Millar, two minutes with Google.

I won’t get into the various plot points that came out of nowhere, and especially not the ending, because that was just… weird, and came out of fucking left field. Krypton is future Earth? Meh, I dunno.

Bottom line: I did enjoy this graphic novel. True, it didn’t make me think much, and didn’t improve my opinion of Mark Millar. I don’t think it deserves the breathless praise everybody seems to be heaping on it, but hey: it was fun, occasionally clever, and had lots of nice visuals and cool fight scenes. Bring the popcorn, stay for the art.

That Sweet Silver Age Goodness

I recently bought Showcase Presents: Justice League of America, reprinting the first 20 adventures of the JLA, from 1960 to 1962. I already had a reprint of The Brave & the Bold #28 (the JLA’s very first adventure together) from a few years back, as well as a few other reprints from that era, and I decided it was time to expand my collection a bit. I enjoy the occasional dip into the Silver Age, though I know full well this isn’t any kind of great storytelling. There’s very little substance here unless you like old-time cheese for its own sake (which I confess I do) or for its historical interest (which, again, I do). Let’s go through the DC Silver Age checklist, shall we?

Formulaic plotlines? Check. All of these stories except Mystery in Space #75 (whose main character was Adam Strange, and in which the JLA only guest-starred) followed the same basic structure, that had been well used since the days of the Justice Society: First, the good guys get wind of a new villain. Second, said villain either has hirelings or sets up doomsday devices around the globe, or forces the League to go on various missions for him, or whatever; either way, the League splits up into three teams, each of which does its job. There will be arbitrary twists and convenient challenges, mostly revolving around Green Lantern facing something yellow (because as we all know, his power ring is ineffective against anything coloured yellow), and cliffhangers with absurdly contrived resolutions. Finally, they all get back together for the dénouement (that’s French for “when we finish off the bad guys.” Gawd, I miss The Tick).
Painfully expository dialog? Check. “Xotar is starting to fade away!” Why, thank you, Aquaman, I’m sure I would never have noticed the transparent giant killer robot on my own. Okay, maybe I shouldn’t be so hard on these comics; their target market for those comics were children and teenagers, who I guess needed to (e.g.) be reminded that J’onn J’onzz is a Martian (apparently every couple of pages), or have the heroes say “I can use my super-speed to catch the last and most deadly bullet of all—the one which would have finished off Green Lantern!” “To think that a short time ago we were fighting one another, Flash—and now you’ve saved my life!” Yeah, there’s a lot to be said for “show, don’t tell.” Will Eisner’s Spirit comic strip (just to name one) packed more story in eight pages than any of the JLA comics did in 24, without needing to constantly remind the reader who was doing what and why, ad nauseam.
No character development? Check. The superheroes talk the same way (except for the occasional “Great Neptune!” or “Merciful Minerva!”), act the same way, and are in fact completely interchangeable except for their respective powers and gimmicks. And from what little I’ve seen, they didn’t get much more depth in their individual comics.
Silly science? Check. The winner here would have to be Doctor Light, appearing in “The Last Case of the Justice League” (JLA #12). His shtick is the manipulation of light to create force fields, lightning, teleportation and various other improbable effects. His “scientific” explanation for all this?

When the electrons of an atom are stimulated, they emit radiations[sic]! Electrons on the outer orbits of an atom emit visible radiation–“light”! The inner electrons emit invisible X-rays! The nucleus of an atom emits gamma-rays! But so much for technical details–
Random educational stuff? Check. On the other hand, outside of the plot-convenient technobabble, writer Gardner Fox was keen on scientific facts and trivia. A little too much, though. At least a couple of times per issue he’d put in litte footnotes like “By swallowing air into a special sac beneath its throat, the puffer fish becomes inflated like a football–whereupon it rises to the surface and floats upside down.” or “Few people realize that the Panama Canal runs northwest and southeast rather than due east and west.” Was that just a Gardner Fox thing, or was it more common in superhero comicdom? This was an age of science, and also the early days of the Comics Code Authority, after all, and maybe writers put in Useful and Educational Material to convince parents it wasn’t just a lot of silly (and vaguely homoerotic) adventure leading to juvenile delinquence.
Aquaman is useless? Check. Okay, yes, his telepathic control of sea animals is useful for intelligence-gathering, and allows him to effectively act even when restrained. But honestly, what else is he good for? His ability to breathe underwater is (to me) more than balanced out by the fact that he needs regular contact with water to survive. Plus, he’s not especially strong, tough, or fast. In JLA #13 (“Riddle of the Robot Justice League”) he was the only one not fighting a robot replica of himself, instead being stuck coaching from the sidelines in a little kiddy pool. And, he’s the only one in the League who can’t go into the field by himself. Superman, J’onn J’onzz and Green Lantern can fly under their own power. Wonder Woman, Batman and Green Arrow have their own planes. Flash can run even over water and Atom can shrink himself to ride electrical signals. Every single time they go out on missions poor Aquaman has to hitch a ride with somebody else.
But is it fun? Check. This stuff is like cotton candy: thin, somewhat flavourful, not good for you but harmless in moderation. As I keep telling myself when I tune in to Totally Spies, there is a time and place for silly fluff.

My interest in Silver Age comics (DC only) dates from around 2001–2002. At the time I wasn’t following any series: The Books of Magic had ended in 2000, and no other Vertigo title really grabbed my interest. At some point I decided to check out some older titles, get a sense of the medium’s history. I picked up some horror and sci-fi comics (House of Mystery, House of Secrets, The Unexpected, The Witching Hour, Weird Science and a few others) from the 50’s, 60’s and 70’s, plus some old superhero titles. Chief among them is the 3-part Crisis on Multiple Earths compilation, relating DC’s slide into an increasingly complicated multiverse, from 1966 to 1972: Earth-2 (actually introduced in 1961, in Flash #121), then Earth-3, Earth-A, Earth-X… with every chapter the stakes got higher and the team-ups got bigger. And the seeds were already being planted in the JLA’s early adventures: even then the heroes seemed to be getting more and more powerful, though succumbing to their respective Achilles’ heels when the plots demanded it; they travelled through time (“By racing at super-speed, clockwise with the rotation of the Earth, I can run out of the present and into the future!” Yes, Superman and Flash could and did do this) and explored distant planets and parallel universes on a couple of occasions.

And… that’s when it becomes less fun. Though I now understand the background behind the Crisis on Infinite Earths, I have absolutely no desire to read it. Mainstream superhero comics of the 70’s and 80’s, with some exceptions, just aren’t that interesting to me. Little of the depth of more modern stuff, but not different enough to be interesting to the little historian in me, and with none of the cheerful fluffy innocence of the 50’s and 60’s. Next time I’m in the mood for old, I know what I’m sticking to.

Juggernaut is not a mutant!

Now that I’ve got that off my chest… Spoiler warning.

I finally went to see X-Men: The Last Stand last weekend. It was pretty good as an action flick, and a standalone X-Men movie. But as a sequel? Ehhh.

Now that I’ve got that off my chest… Spoiler warning.

I finally went to see X-Men: The Last Stand last weekend. It was pretty good as an action flick, and a standalone X-Men movie. But as a sequel? Ehhh. The biggest disappointment was Evil Jean. Sorry, I mean “Phoenix.” Wait, I totally don’t, because this was not Phoenix. The closing scenes in X2 suggested a beautiful creature of light and fire, still in touch with her humanity, her love for Cyclops and her duty to the X-Men. What we got instead was a moderately scary Jean who boffed Wolverine, disintegrated people on a whim, and turned grey and veiny whenever her evil personality surfaced. What is this, season 6 Buffy? Sheesh.

Storm had a much bigger role, which I’m kind of ambivalent about. On the one hand, she kicked a lot of ass, and Halle Berry didn’t suck as much as the previous movies (but really, nothing could top the “Do you know what happens to a Toad that get struck by lightning?” line). On the other, she still can’t deliver the grandeur and majesty I’ve come to associate with Storm, thanks to the 90’s animated series. And apparently Berry herself pushed for a bigger role. Girl, Storm is all kinds of awesome but you’re not that good, so please get over yourself.

Oh, speaking of bigger roles, what was up with Cyclops? All he did was act like the world’s biggest whining pussy, blast Alkali Lake with his eyebeams, then get horribly killed by Jean. Yeah, I know, James Marsden was filming Superman Returns at the same time, but did he have to be killed like that? And then forgotten for the rest of the movie? Granted I was never a fan of his, but this was completely disrespectful.

Story-wise, I think they tried to cram too much into this movie. A mutant cure, Dark Phoenix, the Sentinels (not really, but almost), yet more mutants and supporting characters—Beast, who was terrific; Kitty Pryde, who kicked a surprising amount of ass; Angel, who… had no plot; and Moira McTaggert—as well as a lot of random info about the X-universe, like that business of levels of mutant powers, and listing the given names (or should I say “slave names?”) of as many mutants as they could. Seems kind of pointlessly nerdy.

Some random thoughts:

Squee! Sentinels! Yeah, it was just the Danger Room, but my inner geek was bouncing.
How thoughtful of Jean to leave Wolverine’s pants on in that last scene where she was telekinetically flaying him alive. Oh, wait, I mean, bad! BOO FOR PANTS ON HUGH JACKMAN! While I’m at it, boo for non-shirtless Colossus! But yay for pretty shirtless Angel!
Magneto, enough with the hand gestures when you use your powers! God, was I the only one who found it incredibly annoying? He was never that bad in the first two movies, was he?
So, this cure serum is only partial or temporary. If there is a fourth movie, I really hope Magneto and Mystique aren’t in it. Don’t get me wrong, those two are made of pure distilled awesomeness and could conquer the world in a weekend if they put their minds to it, but three movies is enough.

Comic Book Review: Shadow Cabinet

Shadow Cabinet was part of Milestone Media’s second generation of comics, one of the two series introduced during the Milestone universe’s “Shadow War” crossover event. The Shadow Cabinet is a secret organization of superheroes thousands of years old. Its operatives, in constant rotation from mission to mission, have sworn to fulfill its mandate: “To save humanity from itself”, whether humanity wants it or not.

With consistently excellent artwork and storytelling, Shadow Cabinet was, at the time, the best superhero comic book I knew. The best. Though the series rarely addressed social issues—unlike most other Milestone titles—writer Matt Wayne consistently delivered sharp dialogue, exciting and twisty plots, the occasional dash of humour, and great character development. I think this was Shadow Cabinet’s main strength: its diverse cast of interesting and three-dimensional characters. The best thing about these protagonists? more than half are women. And they’re realistically drawn—none of those huge, silicon-fed breasts, thank you very much. Though it meant a bit more to my politically-active self of ten years ago, I still think the gender balance and racial diversity is a very big deal. The simple fact that Shadow Cabinet features (a) just one white male main character and (b) more than a couple token women does make the series pretty damn unique. Especially when two of these women are a lesbian couple.

Here’s a list of the main characters:

Dharma, the Shadow Cabinet’s current leader. His power is to see the past and future of any object. Some time ago he foresaw a terrible catastrophe, “a day where everything ends in fire”. Without telling his operatives he has been desperately using the Cabinet to prevent this vision from coming true.

Iron Butterfly is the Cabinet’s field commander; she has the power to move and shape metal and metallic objects. In battle she wears medieval-style plate armor with huge angel-like wings.

The origin of her powers is unclear. She has given two somewhat contradictory accounts of her past, but the common element is that her family was murdered, and her life’s quest is to avenge that murder. Iron Butterfly is cold and aloof, ruthlessly efficient in combat, and apparently without any sense of humor. Near the end of the series it is revealed that she is also secretly in love with Dharma, even though he’s incapable of loving her back.

Plus is a normal-looking teenage girl, with the ability to fly and project a variety of force fields. The strange thing was, she occasionally talked to someone called “Narnie,” who only she could hear talking back! Was this “Narnie” real, or just a figment of her imagination? Eventually readers discovered that Narnie was an energy being, and the source of Plus’ powers. “I can manipulate her otherwise inert physical form and communicate with her consciousness.” A bit later, it was revealed that Narnie was Plus’ sister, and Dharma was their brother.

Sideshow used to be a photojournalist for the alternative media. At one point he stumbled onto an illegal animal research lab, “a real horror show”, and got careless. He was knocked out and dumped into a vat of biochemical waste products. Instead of killing him it remolded his genetic structure, allowing him transform his body, or parts of his body, into that of any animal. Dharma brought him into the Cabinet and taught him to control his powers.

Iota is a very rich widow with an apartment in Sydney, Australia. Her power is to shrink herself or any inanimate object down to almost microscopic size. An interesting side effect of this process is that it destroys organic tissue (except for her own body): shrunk objects are sterilized, and shrunk food becomes inedible. She seems to spend a lot of her free time stealing things, and carries around a truly astounding collection of vehicles, houses and all kinds of tools and knickknacks in her pockets, ready to be brought out and used at a moment’s notice.

Donner is apparently the granddaughter of a Nazi geneticist. This might explain her great strength (she can easily bench-press 3 tons) and near-invulnerability to physical attacks. There are some hints that she was involved with neo-nazi gangs when she was younger, but she has completely left behind that part of her life. About six feet six in height with a bodybuilder’s physique, Donner is a big sports fan, especially enjoying baseball and pro wrestling. She is currently studying at Medina University in Dakota (the fictional Midwestern city where all the Milestone series take place) with her lover, Blitzen.

Blitzen was a scientist who developed a serum that enables her to move and think at speeds far beyond the normal human range. (She once claimed to be able to play 307 games of Solitaire in 30 seconds). Nothing else is known of her past before she joined the Cabinet. When not on missions, Blitzen works as a teaching assistant at Medina U.

Starlight was a simple mathematics student until she wandered into the university’s stellar observatory. There she found a scientist standing in front of a “tachyon telescope,” being bombarded by huge amounts of radiation. She tried to push him out of the way, and got caught in the beam instead. This turned her into a living pulsar, with the ability to emit and absorb energies of many different kinds. Though she had planned to be with the Cabinet only until she learned to control her powers, Starlight has since decided to stay.

As much as I love my old life, I can’t have it back. Controlling my powers isn’t enough. I have to use them where they’re needed most. As much as I need the quiet life of a university mathematician, the world need heroes.

Right from the start, Shadow Cabinet showed its readers what it was made of. The first issue, entitled “A Handful of S.A.N.D.,” featured a Cabinet strike team (composed of Iron Butterfly, Donner, Plus and Sideshow) sent on a search-and-destroy (S.A.N.D.) mission. Their target was a super-powered mass murderer whom Dharma claimed was going to be recruited by the American government as an assassin. In the end—despite some hesitation on Sideshow’s part—the team completes its mission, very neatly making the death look accidental. “A Handful of S.A.N.D.” was a disturbing, provocative piece of work that generated a lot of praise from readers precisely because it dared to go where few comics had gone before. As Dharma himself said, to counter his operatives’ moral objections: “It was a dirty deed, but it kept dirtier deeds from being done.”

The next few issues were a bit tamer, exploring some the interpersonal relationships between Cabinet members and setting the tone of Dharma’s relationship with his operatives. The “Father’s Day” storyline (issues #3–4), especially, showed him to be a cold, manipulative bastard who used his operatives like pawns.

The “Red Death” storyline (#6–10) put a violent end to the status quo. After being abandoned in the middle of a mission in Antarctica, the team of Iron Butterfly, Donner, Blitzen, Sideshow and Iota vowed to somehow find Shadowspire (the Cabinet’s headquarters, accessed only via a teleportation device called the “shadowslide”) and kill Dharma—who, meanwhile, got busy making deals with S.Y.S.T.E.M., an international crime cartel. What was going on? Had Dharma turned bad and screwed the Cabinet? No: it turned out that he just wanted his best ops away from Shadowspire while he tricked S.Y.S.T.E.M. into squandering a major portion of their military might, thus restoring a fragile balance to the world.

When they finally returned to Shadowspire, all the operatives but Sideshow accepted Dharma’s explanation. Taking the seeming betrayal personally, Sideshow killed Dharma in a fit of rage. After being brought back to life by Red Dog, a powerful wizard who led the Shadow Cabinet at the turn of the century, Dharma decided to tell his favourite operatives the whole truth. Up until that point, only his sisters had known about his chronal sight.

Dharma’s new openness didn’t last long. Soon he began to withdraw information and manipulate his operatives again. And as the apocalypse of his visions drew ever closer, he slowly, methodically, took over every single S.Y.S.T.E.M. cell in the world. His former approach had been wrong, he reasoned: to have any chance of averting the catastrophe, he had to take a more active role.

My plan is simple. I will control everything. Nothing will happen without my approval. I know my Shadow Cabinet may disapprove, but they are in no position to judge.

Things completely fell apart in the 17^th and last issue, which came out in October ’95. Enraged at his sisters’ recent disobedience (Plus, Starlight and several other Cabinet ops had helped stop a riot in Dakota, against Dharma’s explicit orders), Dharma attacked Plus and wrested control of Narnie from her. When Sideshow tried to intervene, he was killed. Dharma then summoned his operatives and announced that, from now on, they were to leave Shadowspire only for missions. Realizing that their leader had finally gone mad, Donner punched her way out of Shadowspire with Blitzen right behind, joined moments later by Iota flying a jet she had dug out of her pockets. The issue’s last panel shows the three of them rocketing away to freedom.

And so Shadow Cabinet ended. I suppose it was inevitable: the series just couldn’t last for very long with that kind of setup; and kudos to the creative team for not trying to stick to an easy status quo. Still… I hope we see the Cabinet again someday, with or without Dharma.

Comic Book Review: Static

Static is among the first generation of titles put out by Milestone Media. I bought the first issue when it came out in April ’93 but, stupidly, did not immediately keep reading the series. Then again, I guess I was lucky I picked up Static at all: back in those dark days, I hardly read anything but big-name Marvel titles, and even then never committed to any particular one. So I forgot about Static for about a year and a half.

Static is the story of Virgil Hawkins, a teenager unexpectedly gifted with electromagnetic powers. As an avid superhero comics fan, he realized what his destiny was. Now, when danger threatens, young Virgil dons his blue-and-white costume to become Static, vanquishing enemies with wisecracks as much as lightning bolts. But, this comic isn’t all about action and adventure: Static and Virgil get equal time. Along with scenes of Static tussling with supervillains, we have the smartassed, nerdy, often annoying Virgil Hawkins going to school and hanging out with his pals. These include Frieda, his closest friend, crush object, and the only one who knows his secret; her much too smooth and suave boyfriend Larry (who seems to have an awful lot of money to spend on Frieda); and Rick, the butt of fag jokes from his classmates because he practices ballet.

This being Milestone, there’s plenty of social issues and brave storytelling amongst the action and humour. It’s not easy being a black teenager, and superpowers aren’t necessarily much help. For instance, Virgil has a hard time going on dates and can’t even hold down the lousiest McJob because he has to leave at a moment’s notice to confront rampaging supervillains, and he can’t use his powers to defend himself against bullies for fear of blowing his cover. The series’ high point was the “What are Little Boys Made Of?” storyline (issues #16–20), in which Static barely saves Rick from being gay-bashed, and is shocked to find out his friend really is gay. The following day Rick—bruised, with a black eye—courageously comes out to most of the school, inviting his friends to join him in an upcoming gay rights rally. Frieda is completely supportive, but Virgil and the boys have deal with their own homophobia. Later, having resolved most of his doubts, Static defends the rally against a viciously homophobic supervillain and his gang of neo-nazi thugs.

Some time afterwards Static meets Dusk, a teenaged vigilante superheroine with a pretty forceful code of justice. They take an instant liking to each other, even though Dusk is a lot more violent than Static in dealing with bad guys and refuses to reveal anything about herself or her past. The two had an interesting dynamic, for as long as their partnership lasted: Static was more idealistic and though he had, in the past, broken crack houses and stopped muggings and such, he rarely went looking for major trouble; his first priority was always to protect innocent people. Dusk, on the other hand, was grimmer and more pragmatic, actively looked for crime (especially organized crime) to stop, and seemed to revel in beating up on the bad guys.

“I told you checking back alleys and stuff would help you find more trouble.”
“Yup, Dusk, it did. I almost wish it didn’t.”
“Yeah. I know. Just don’t ever tell that to a victim.”

Not that I ever wanted to see Static turning all grim-and-gritty, but the two of them had a lot to teach each other.

In issue #28 (July ’95), the two drop in on a drug bust to give the police a hand, and Static discovered—to his shock—that one of the people being busted is Larry! Unable to confront his friend, Static lets him go, thereby earning the suspicion of both Dusk and the police. Working separately, Static and Dusk catch up with him the next day, but Larry’s former associate also show up to silence him forever, and Dusk gets shot while trying to protect him. Static flies in and carries her to safety, but is unable to prevent Larry from being killed.

It was a disturbing, but perfectly appropriate ending to this storyline. Larry had been more than a little suspect ever since issue #2, when he furnished Virgil with a gun to deal with a bully (which Virgil ended up not using), and it was about time his “deep, dark secret” came to light. Yet Larry was never portrayed as a cold, heartless, one-dimensional crook. He genuinely cared about his girlfriend and family, providing for them the best way he knew how; when the police showed up and arrested him, poor Larry was so scared he almost wet his pants. It was clear he never thought about the long-term consequences of his actions, and never dreamed he’d actually get caught.

Static’s reaction was less well handled, though. In issue #29 the series switched to a new writing team, replacing the fabulous Ivan Velez, Jr (who had replaced the no less fabulous Robert L. Washington III in issue #19). These writers were adequate, but no more, and the next few issues were filled with pretty average storytelling. First, there’s Static’s rage against on the drug dealers who shot Larry and Dusk, complete with extremely tiresome internal monologue. Maybe it was in character, but, really: the formerly-“fun” hero who temporarily goes dark and berserk is a tried-and-true cliché. Later, after Larry’s funeral, Virgil confides in Frieda that he wants to abandon his Static persona. It had always been a game, a flashy release from all the frustrations of adolescence, and now he figured it was time to grow up a little. Again, this little revelation left me cold because that kind of thing’s been done to death in other series.

Issue #31 featured an extended flashback that revisited Static’s origin story. Here the focus was on Virgil’s fascination with an old movie serial swashbuckling hero called “The Scarlet Scarab” who—apparently—was the main inspiration for Virgil’s taking on a superhero persona. My reaction? Meh. Not only do I question the logic of Virgil being more interested in old-time movies than modern comics (besides the fact that we’d never seen it before), I get the feeling the writers wanted to “make their mark” on the Static universe by rewriting history a bit. This issue was completely unnecessary and in fact far inferior to the first origin story in issue #2. But on the plus side, we do get to see the origin of the long yellow coat Static wears over his spandex costume. Yay. Except, no we don’t, because Virgil was already wearing that coat in the issue #2 flashback.

I kept up with Static for two more issues, but finally called it quits after issue #33 (March ’96). The writing wasn’t getting any better, and the artwork frankly sucked. Though I felt terrible about dropping a Milestone series, this Static was only a shadow of its former self, and it just wasn’t worth my time and hard-earned cash anymore.

Comic Book Review: Ghost Rider 2099

This series was part of Marvel 2099, a short-lived line of comics started in the mid-90’s which featured familiar-looking heroes in a gritty, futuristic, extremely cyberpunk setting. They all take place in—yep, you guessed it—the year 2099, and the world is a very different place. The Age of Heroes is long over, and costumed crime fighters only a distant memory. But now a new Age of Heroes is dawning; new legends are being born, in a world sadly lacking in legends.

I also looked at Spiderman 2099, Punisher 2099, Doom 2099 and X-Men 2099, but Ghost Rider 2099 is the only one I followed for more than three or four issues. These series—at least initially—were actually very good. The protagonists could easily have been cheap rehashes of 20th century heroes, or something corny like their great-great-grandchildren. Instead they were highly original, three-dimensional people living in a complex and interesting world.

Ghost Rider 2099 took place in Transverse City, a huge urban sprawl stretching between Chicago and Detroit. Originally designed as the starting point of a transcontinental superhighway, most of Transverse City is a construct ten storeys high and twenty lanes wide. Due to massive unforeseen costs and corporate corruption, the project was never finished. The only section actually completed was the Detroit–Chicago axis, which was nonetheless pressed into service. Since there was no way to even approach the construct’s enormous capacity, various levels and sections were parceled out to secondary developers. Now Transverse City is a nightmare urban jungle with no official central government. The most powerful corporation is D/MONIX (Data Manipulation and Organization Networks), which has sunk its hooks into almost every other company.

Kenshiro “Zero” Cochrane was a cyberhacker—able to connect his nervous system directly to the Net—living on the streets of Transverse City, who got murdered while plugged into cyberspace. Mysterious artificial intelligences living in an area of the Net they called “the Ghostworks” preserved his consciousness and implanted it into a powerful robot. Their plan (as explained to Zero) was to use him as a living symbol to counteract the greed, stupidity and corruption infecting human civilization. “They’d kinked an automated factory complex, made those assemblers dance… They clothed me in silicon and carbon steel, fiber optics and superdense metatasking nanoprocessors, and enough integrated hardware to make payback by the ton. Then they turned me loose.”

When I heard that the Ghost Rider of 2099 would be a technological instead of a supernatural creature, I wasn’t exactly thrilled. Even though I realized the Ghost Rider wouldn’t fit in very well in such a cyberpunkish setting, there was no reason why he shouldn’t last until the 21^st century. After all, what’s a hundred years for a being that’s existed for millenia? But upon reading Ghost Rider 2099 #1, all my doubts vanished. This was an amazing issue! Len Kaminski’s dialog was sharp and vibrant, while the exquisite art of Chris Bachalo and Mark Buckingham truly made readers feel like we were walking the grimy streets of Transverse City.

The central character himself (as befits this setting) is definitely not your average hero. In fact, he’s not even a very nice guy. He’s self-centered, violent, callous towards his girlfriend, and hateful of authority. (Mind you, all the authority figures he’s had to deal with deserve to be hated.) Now that he has the power to express his “rage against the machine,” Transverse City will never be the same again.

Some of the other players in this little drama are: Kylie Gagarin, Zero’s girlfriend (actually, ex-girlfriend); Jimmy Alhazred, “a.k.a. The Dreaded Doctor Neon,” a young cyberhacker low in experience but high in enthusiasm; the cool and professional Anesthesia Jones, an acquaintance of Zero’s with connections to the city’s underworld; Dyson Kellerman, D/MONIX’s holographic CEO; and last but not least, Harrison Cochrane: Zero’s father and a D/MONIX bureaucrat, he was the one who arranged his son’s death.

I swear, apart from the conspicuous absence of four-letter words, I could almost forget I was reading a Marvel comic. This series was just so fierce and iconoclastic, nothing like I’d ever read from that company. Three scenes, in particular, stand out:

In the very first issue, a terrified Zero Cochrane is running from his killers. Delirious from a poison they had shot him with, he happens upon an electronics store window filled with TV’s. All the commercials seem to merge together crazily:

“Two out of three clinical studies agree! Nothing stops the searing pain and itch of existential angst and unfulfilled ambition faster than MEGAVIL! It’s proven two hundred times more effective than the leading brand! Now with activated polydimorphine!”
“—denies charges of widespread corruption and—”
“—embarrassing foot odor? New garden-fresh scented—”
“—officials dismissed as negligible the possible carcinogenic effects of—”
“—hot chewy brownies, anytime!”

Zero goes crazy. Shouting “It’s all lies! All of it! Shut up! SHUT UP!” he picks up a stick and starts smashing the store window. Then the fit stops, and he mumbles, “Oh, man. This… civilization… sucks.” The very last image on the page is a closeup of the sign that used to be in the store window. It says: “EVERYTHING MUST GO.”

(No description can do this scene justice. Even ten years later, I still think it was damn powerful.)

In issue #5, Zero (in his brand-new robotic body) finally confronts his father, who says: “You were nothing but a common gutter criminal… I did what any law-abiding corporate employee would’ve done. I had a duty to society!” Ghost Rider replies: “Screw your society! It’s nothing but a con game rigged so you and the rest of the suits can keep making a profit! The only duty anyone with even a shred of humanity left has is to tear is down!”

And finally, one hilarious little scene. In issue #7, Ghost Rider is forced to visit New York City incognito. While wandering the streets, he is accosted by a religious fanatic who starts his spiel: “Excuse me, citizen. Do you know what causes all the wars and misery in the world?” Replies our hero: “Yeah. Bit-heads like you.” Heh. Who says you don’t learn anything from comic books?

Ghost Rider 2099 was a breathtaking series from the word go, and kept up the pace for nine red-hot issues. But then, in issues #10–11, the writer forced Ghost Rider into a completely pointless slugfest with half a dozen ugly bad guys. I admit it was kind of fun while it lasted, but come on! Zero had better things to do and more interesting enemies to kill. In issue #12, Zero went up against his toughest adversary yet: a vigilante called Coda, “the last word in law enforcement.” The fight ended with Ghost Rider being vaporized by the vigilante.

And that’s when things really went downhill. The next issue was the start of Ghost Rider’s involvement in a huge crossover—spanning all 2099 titles and lasting for several months—entitled “2099 A.D.” In it, Doctor Doom (a villain in the 20th century who has his own series in the 21st) took over the USA. Which wasn’t too hard, since there was no longer any central government or defence force. He then enlisted the aid of Ghost Rider (who, in the meantime, had regenerated himself) to control Transverse City. Zero, of course, refused, but Doom had previously made a bargain with the Ghostwork AI’s. By using access codes they had given him, he rewrote portions of Ghost Rider’s operating system, and so forced him to change his mind. Just like that, Zero Cochrane became a law enforcement officer.

I was sickened and shocked. How dare they do this? What the hell were they thinking? Ghost Rider isn’t a cop. He kills cops! He was the ultimate anti-authoritarian nightmare, and they did the worst thing they could: they took away his rage against the machine, and made him a part of that machine. Once again, Marvel management has shown us they’re not afraid to screw around with a story’s basic themes and characters, destroying its heart and soul. (Yeah, I blame the management. I’ve got a hard time imagining Len Kaminski wanted this to happen. After all, he’s been writing the series since the first issue. Zero Cochrane must be like his very own kill-the-pigs, burn-the-establishment-to-the-ground-and-dance-on-the-ashes baby. Then again, maybe I’m projecting too much of the character on the writer).

Just to add insult to injury, the artwork in issues #13–14 sucked big time, making me pine for Bachalo and Buckingham. Or, really, any half-decent artist.

Issue #14 (April ’95) was the last one I bought, but Ghost Rider 2099 went on for at least a year before being canceled. Before I completely lost interest I could see signs that it might be picking up steam (a new artist, with a very weird but oddly catchy style, and a gradual shift of Zero’s attitudes back to his old ways), but by then it was too little too late. I decided I could never trust the Marvel powers that be not to interfere with good stories and characters, and so swore off picking up any new Marvel titles. Ten years later I’m having a very easy time keeping that resolution.

Comic Book Review: Deathlok

Michael Collins was a pacifist and cybernetics expert, who believed his work was being used to develop advanced prostheses for handicapped people. When he discovered that his employers were really building a superpowered killer cyborg code-named “Deathlok,” Collins was murdered and his brain placed inside Deathlok. His mind was thought to have been destroyed; the brain was simply to serve as “wetware” support for the cyborg’s operating system. But Michael Collins was still there, inside, and eventually he regained control of Deathlok. Vowing never to use his powers to kill another living being, he set off to make a new life for himself.

The first issue of Deathlok I read was #16 (October ’92), and I was immediately fascinated. The mind of a pacifist stuck inside a killer machine? Neat! Sure was a nice break from all those other heroes who willingly went fighting crime and actually liked punching it up with villains.

The series’ uniqueness didn’t end there, though. You see, Michael Collins was a Black man, and proud of it; So was one of the writers, Dwayne McDuffie. Black people (characters or writers) are rare enough in comics, let alone Black people who actually make points about racism and other forms of prejudice. However, those points were only irregularly made. The problem was that Deathlok had two writers who took turns scripting: McDuffie, and one Gregory Wright. The stories written by McDuffie (especially the “Souls of Cyber-Folk” storyline, issues #2–5, and Deathlok’s stay in the country of Wakanda, issues #22–25) were more interesting, original, and made the political points. (“The Souls of Cyber-Folk” is a reference to The Souls of Black Folk by W.E.B. Du Bois, from which Deathlok quotes in issue #2; the story itself draws parallels between racism and the prejudice experienced by cyborgs and artificial beings.) On the other hand, storylines written by Wright were not so interesting or memorable, with shallow plots heavy on mindless action scenes.

It was a constant struggle throughout the series’ short life: for every reader who loved Michael Collins as a Black hero, as a pacifist hero, there was another reader who thought he was a sissy wimp, and hungered for Deathlok to get back to its roots. See, way back in the 70’s, there was apparently a series called Deathlok the Demolisher, set in a lawless and violent post-apocalyptic future; the title character used to be a US Marine Colonel named Luther Manning who was augmented against his will after being critically injured, and went on to become an ultraviolent anti-hero. More recently (in 1990), Marvel published the adventures of another Deathlok cyborg with the organics and brain of a ruthless and bloodthirsty beat cop and former marine named John Kelly. Taken in that context, a pacifist Deathlok was even more startling. In issue #17, readers learned that Collins’ Deathlok body used to be Kelly’s; his brain had been fried by the onboard computer and replaced by Collins’. At the same time, a backup of Kelly’s personality was reactivated; for a couple of issues it served as Deathlok’s anti-conscience, railing against his pacifistic ways, urging him to be more ruthless, and generally annoying the hell out of Collins and any reader who agreed with him. Kelly’s personality later transferred itself into another cyborg, code-named “Siege,” who made occasional appearances throughout the rest of the series.

The beginning of the end came in issue #31, the start of the 4-part “Cyberstrike” storyline. This weird, confusing story, involving parallel timelines and time paradoxes by the dozen, pitted Michael Collins and Siege against the Luther Manning Deathlok (who never existed in Collins’ timeline) and the Demolisher (i.e.: Manning’s future self) in a crazy and headache-inducing battle royale as they tried to prevent their realities from being destroyed by a power-hungry time-skipping meddler… And that was it. The series ended with this storyline that tried to resolve the paradoxes about all these past, present, alternate-present, and possible-future Deathloks. Not with a bang, not with a whimper, but with a “What the hell?”

It was a tragic waste. A wonderful idea had been lost, probably never to return. Maybe it was doomed from the start, but I don’t feel it was ever given a proper chance. I only wish Marvel’s powers that be had established Dwayne McDuffie as a full-time writer and let him do his own thing, free of constraints. As for those whining losers who only wanted high body counts, they should have been told them to fuck off and go read Spawn or The Punisher.

Comic Book Review: Alpha Flight

What originally got me interested in Alpha Flight was the fact that (a) it was a Canadian superhero group (in fact, the only Canadian superhero group in the Marvel Universe), and (b) it was the only series I knew of then to have an openly gay main character. Being gay myself, I was naturally curious to see how a superpowered queer would be treated. I got into the series only a few months before it folded in early 1994 and, over the next couple of years, collected most back issues, the two annuals, and a couple of team-ups with the X-Men.

The story begins in X-Men #121 (May 1979), when the X-Men travelled to Canada and tussled with Canada’s Official Super-Hero Group, Alpha Flight. These six Canadians had been invented solely to give the X-Men someone to fight but apparently struck a chord with the public and so, four years later, they received their own ongoing monthly series.

All things considered, the series was off to a promising start. John Byrne—the writer and artist for the first 28 issues—did a pretty good job of creating personalities and histories for characters that were nothing more than powers, code names and nifty costumes. He introduced us to the distant and mysterious Snowbird, shapeshifting daughter of northern gods; Sasquatch (Walter Langkowski), a scientist who could transform into a monster; Shaman (Michael Twoyoungmen), a Native man who studied to be a medical doctor and rediscovered the magic of his ancestors late in life; the mutant twin speedsters Northstar and Aurora (Jean-Paul and Jeanne-Marie Beaubier), her with dual conflicting personalities, him a sarcastic and obnoxious loner; finally, Vindicator (James Hudson), founder and leader of Alpha Flight, wearing a special suit that allowed him to fly and project beams of energy. To this original core of six were added two in issue #1: Puck (Eugene Judd), a midget with excellent fighting skills and a Mysterious Past, and Marrina, an amphibian humanoid with a Mysterious Origin.

The stories weren’t exactly inspired, or even terribly original. Some of the characters were annoying knockoffs: for example, Sasquatch was a gamma-powered shifter like the Hulk, and in fact his origin story has him reproducing Dr. Banner’s experiments with gamma energy. Also, Puck was in my opinion too reminiscent of Wolverine, with the short stature, hairy body, Mysterious Past and unrequited love for a redhead (in this case it was Heather Hudson, Vindicator’s wife and later widow). The dialogue tended to be painfully artificial and expository, as you’d expect from mainstream superhero comics of that era, and the plots contained the usual tired shenanigans of “shocking” twists and retcons… but on the whole I thought they were mostly serviceable, and entertaining enough.

It seems that Northstar had been written as a gay character right from the start, and that his abrasiveness was just a way to hide his feelings and keep others at a distance. But that clue, and others in his personal history, were only there if you knew what you were looking for. In issue #41 (December ’86), there came a huge, not-at-all subtle hint about Northstar’s gayness. More hints followed, about one per issue. “Aha!” I thought. “They”re going to make him come out for sure!” Imagine my surprise when, in issue #50 (September ’87), Northstar’s nature was retconned as being part Elf, and he, Aurora and Puck were suddenly yanked out of the story. If I had to guess, I’d say that the execs at Marvel got a little nervous about this costumed faggot and wanted him gone. Plus, Elf, get it? It’s like, fairy. Yeah, my sides are still splitting.

Northstar stayed gone for two and a half years, returning in issue #81, his gayness forgotten for the moment. It was in issue #106 (March ’92) that he officially came out of the closet. I used to think I’d have a hard time finding that issue since it had to be a valuable collector’s item, but it turns out Alpha Flight was never that popular. I think I eventually got my hands on it for about $10 (Canadian!). “So” you might be thinking, “this is great! It’s a major step forward for gays and lesbians, right? An openly gay superhero is bound to open people’s eyes, make them rethink their positions, right?” Sure, but…

Let’s not beat around the bush: Northstar’s coming out was a joke. Yes, I thought it was done pretty well (a bit preachy, maybe, and it had to happen in the middle of a big fight scene, but there you go). Yes, it caused a reaction. Yes, gay readers loved it. But then Northstar went right back into the closet as fast as he’d come. The words “gay” or “homosexual” weren’t even mentioned once throughout the series’ remaining run. Northstar’s coming out was vaguely mentioned a couple of times, but never using those words: it was just his “revelation.”

If I had to pick a moment, I’d say that’s when Alpha Flight jumped the shark. In retrospect the creative team—never stellar to begin with—had been running on autopilot for a while now, and the last two years of the series’ life were filled with dull, pointless and/or derivative storylines, padded with mindless action scenes or focussing on new and completely uninteresting minor characters.

The 4-part Northstar miniseries, beginning immediately after Alpha Flight‘s last issue, only added insult to injury. I thought now they’d address his gayness. No such luck. It was just a mindless action-oriented plot, with the coming-out obliquely mentioned only once. We did see a former love interest of Northstar’s, but guess what? She was a woman!

Northstar’s brief coming out wasn’t Alpha Flight‘s only opportunity for really interesting and potentially groundbreaking stories, but the writers and management lacked either the balls or the imagination to do more than scratch the surface. There was Sasquatch, who at one point (through a very strange sequence of events) was temporarily transformed into a woman. There was the ongoing issue of Aurora’s multiple personalities, which merged and split and changed at the writers’ whims. There was Kara Kilgrave, an adolescent mutant with purple skin and the power to control minds introduced in issue #41: she left Alpha Flight for a short time to try to have a normal life, but failed miserably. The writers had a golden opportunity to explore what it means to be an outcast and freak.

One thing that doesn’t so much disappoint as piss me right off is the mangled Canadiana. Readers were reminded in almost every issue that John Byrne is an expatriate Canuck… but so what? The stories—even the exposition on Canadian landmarks and history—still all felt written from an outsider’s (ie: U.S.) perspective. I don’t know what a Canadian perspective or sensibility would look like in a superhero comic (or maybe I do?) but I’m sure Alpha Flight didn’t have it. This was not a comic written by us or for us. The geography and history could have been taken out of any high school textbook, what French there was was usually very bad or not real Québecois, and there were even several instances of the writers and artists disrespecting our national heritage with their sloppy work. Look, I’m no flag-waving nationalist, and I realize they didn’t want to make too much of an effort since most of the audience didn’t read French and probably couldn’t find Canada on a map, all tucked away down there. Really, I’m not asking for much: Maybe get the national motto right. Or at least learn to draw the flag correctly. Jesus.

I’m still missing a couple of issues, but have lost interest in searching for them. Neither am I interested in collecting the latest volumes (Alpha Flight was restarted twice; first in 1997, lasting about 30 issues, then in 2004). I hear Northstar temporarily rejoined the Flight in their second incarnation, has been with the X-Men for the last couple of years, and is a lot more out. Well, good for him, but I won’t be following his adventures anymore. If I knew then what I know now, I probably wouldn’t even have started. Alpha Flight never reached much beyond “okay,” and many other comic books have done a better job of portraying queer characters without wimping out.