Suicide Squad #10 – Review

By: Adam Glass (story), Fernando Dagnino (art), Matt Yackey (colors)

The Story: Harley shows off the psycho in psychologist.

The Review: I don’t wish this on anybody, but in my experience, there are three ways for the magic to run out in a relationship.  Sometimes, you’re chugging along fine and then, like a bolt out of the blue, it happens and you’re left dazed afterwards.  Sometimes, it’s a gradual sapping away, with you helplessly but lethargically watching as it proceeds to its eventual doom.  And sometimes, you don’t realize it’s happened until it already has and it’s too late.

I feel that third situation pretty much sums up my feelings toward this title.  Maybe an issue or so ago I sensed not all was right, but only during this issue did I suddenly realize how tired and disinterested I was in reading it.  It all comes down to the fundamental truth about stories: you either have to love the tale being told, or you have to care about its characters.  In this case, I can’t honestly say either one of those things is working out for me.

Suicide Squad #9 – Review

By: Adam Glass (story), Fernando Dagnino (art), Matt Yackey (colors)

The Story: It’ll take more than loose teamwork to kill the man who can’t be killed.

The Review: Gosh, this week sure has been one for mini crossovers, hasn’t it?  By now, you’ll have grasped the qualities of a strong tie-in: a story which can stand on its own, without having to pick out plot points from a completely different series; the issue doesn’t feel like a jarring departure from the kind of reading you’ve come to expect from the title; and most importantly, it doesn’t feel like a waste of the series’ monthly dosage.

In nearly every respect, this issue offers the opposite of all that.  Last time, the Squad had only just received their marching orders to take down the irritatingly unkillable Resurrection Man.  This issue opens on the man who won’t die, lying on the dirt, done in by a headshot (accidental, as it turns out—Deadshot’s aim isn’t quite what it once was just yet).  Next to Mitch Shelley is a hysterical woman named Kim, apologizing to his cadaver for something.  Unless you read Resurrection Man #8 (which I did not, having given it up three issues before), you will have no idea what went down between the Squad’s last issue and this one.

Suicide Squad #8 – Review

By: Adam Glass (writer), Federico Dallocchio (artist), Matt Yackey (colorist)

The Story: And Amanda Waller wonders why she never gets called a people person.

The Review: Perhaps the reason why team books are so popular is because they have a built-in potential for variety.  Since each character presumably brings something different to the table, you don’t have to stick to any one kind of story or tone for too long.  Of course, this requires the writer to make sure each team member actually does have a unique voice and background.  If everyone acts and talks the same, what’s the point?

Suicide Squad runs pretty close to this kind of problem.  This issue sports a couple scenes where Waller interacts with Savant and Deadshot, and aside from slight variations in their choice of words, they tend to have the same acidic sarcasm (“I’m sick of being head cheerleader.”  “Do I look like your mamma, Lawton?”).  Unlike the colorful tapestry of characters you had in Gail Simone’s Secret Six, this series has a general sameness to its proceedings which it rarely varies.

To focus the lens a little closer, let’s look at Waller.  Throughout the issue, she spouts pretty much the same threatening demeanor she does all the time.  This would be easier to handle in brief doses, but Glass seems content to let her ramble on even when no one’s listening, like in her rant to the comatose Harley: “Thank God we had a warehouse full of patsies to pin the riot and your escape on!  For all anyone knows, you never left Belle Reve and went on a crazy killing spree looking for that psychotic excuse of a boyfriend of yours.”  Besides the pointless anger, it just seems like an excuse to cover some exposition without much effort.

Young Justice Episode 23 – Review

By: Peter David (writer)

The Story: Imagine hanging with your boo’s ex—that’s the awkwardness we have here.

The Review: I waxed poetic about David in my review of the last episode he wrote for this series, so there’s no need to fall over myself again here.  I just have to wonder, though: how does he really feel about this show that took on the name of one of his most reputable works, yet reflects his tone and concepts in virtually no other way?  How must it feel to adapt himself to characters and conceits that in some ways go against his sensibilities?

These are all rhetorical questions, of course, best left to private but ultimately fruitless musings.  The only thing that matters is how David works the material he’s given—which is pretty darn well, actually.  Watching this episode, it occurs to me that in many ways, David takes the YJers at hand treat them like the ones he knew.

Case in point: Kid Flash and Artemis.  If any of you followed the Young Justice comics back in the day, you might remember the bit of puppy love Impulse had for Arrowette at the time.  Though that particular romance never really panned out, David seems to revive it here through their TV-screen counterparts.  The show has labored to convince us that a Kid Flash-Artemis pairing would be a great idea, but only under David’s writing do sparks actually fly.  It’s a sweet moment when Wally tells Art she has nothing to prove, made even sweeter by his bashfulness and her pleased reaction.  If we get more of this, we can look forward to their courtship.

Unfortunately, the plot throws several obstacles in their path this episode.  Despite Wally’s reassurance, Artemis does let the presence of Red Arrow get to her, though not, perhaps, for the reasons everyone expects.  It’s not about the difference in their skill levels, or even of his long history with most the team.  Artemis set out on her own to rise above the criminals all around her (apparently including her mother—as the Huntress, of all things); to discover the acceptance from her heroic mentor and teammates is unearned and tenuous is a painful experience, indeed.

Suicide Squad #5 – Review

By: Adam Glass (writer), Federico Dallocchio (artist), Val Staples (colorist)

The Story: Looks like these guys aren’t interested in playing the chorus for “Jailhouse Rock.”

The Review: Although DC’s new 52 brought quite a lot of good things to the comics world, it also sent packing a few great things from the old guard.  Among the ones whose cancellation I viewed with most bitterness was Gail Simone’s Secret Six.  So perhaps it’s no surprise I had a certain animosity for Suicide Squad, clearly meant to fill the antihero team void Six left behind, and images of revamped Harley Quinn and Amanda Waller did nothing to change my mind.

But irrational prejudices always leave me feeling guilty, so I decided to do the right thing and at least give it a read-through.  And predictably enough, I felt a bit foolish after finishing this issue, because it actually it has a lot of merit.  The tone of the series is quite different from Six, of course; it has little of the wit and complexity Simone’s writing offered, and certainly it doesn’t tackle the hard questions of morality the Six encountered on a monthly basis.

What you get instead is more of a straight team book, populated with disturbed characters of varying degrees.  To give you an idea of the general dynamic of the group, I’d say the Squad falls somewhere between the classy depravity of the Secret Six and the earnest misfits of the Thunderbolts.  The feeling you get from Diablo, Black Spider, and Deadshot (the men in focus in this issue) is that while they project a pure ruggedness in action, they can also be honorable, sensitive, even affectionate, which certainly rounds their characters quite a bit.

Perhaps no one exemplifies this more than Deadshot, the one original member of the Six who managed to survive the relaunch.  In contrast to the near-total apathy of his former self, this version of Floyd Lawton is more willing to level with his teammates, and even has loved ones to long and care for.  All this makes him a little less entertaining (I’ll always remember the moment Wonder Woman threatened him with castration if he shot her, his pause, then remark that he’ll try anything once), but more accessible, so not all character changes, it seems, are bad.