Defenders #11 – Review

by Matt Fraction (story), Mirco Pierfederici (art), Jordie Bellaire (colors), and Clayton Cowles (letters)

The Story:  As the Death Celestial runs rampant, the Defenders discover the true nature and purpose of the Concordance Engines.

The Review:  In reading this sadly pen-ultimate issue of Defenders, I kept feeling like this was constantly teetering right on the edge of becoming a hot mess.  I think a lot of that is because of the ridiculous scale of Fraction’s story, the sheer size of his ideas, and the fact that, somehow, he only has one more issue after this to finish it all up.  I don’t know how the hell he’s going to manage that, but as far as this issue goes, it thankfully never implodes and said hot mess, though flirted with, never comes to fruition.

The big highlight this month is Fraction finally revealing the nature of the Concordance Engines, a reveal that really forms the heart of this issue.  Quite frankly, I thought Fraction’s explanation of their purpose was straight up amazing.  Fraction is a writer that often messes about with grand ideas and while they often go awry or end up overly ambiguous, he hits it out of the park in this one.  If I’ve understood the issue properly, the Concordance Engines’ effect on the Marvel Universe is so staggering that it’s actually mind-boggling; once you grasp what Fraction is actually saying, the implications are staggering.  There’s grand scale and then there’s….this, an idea so massive that it almost become metatextual.  Without revealing anything else, I’ll just say that the Concordance Engines basically answers how one universe can have so many superpowered beings when compared to a universe like, say, ours that is much more mundane.  Yes, there is a comparison there that Fraction implicitly draws between superhero shared universes and our world.  It’s pretty ballsy stuff and have fun wrapping your head around it.

Fraction also does a great job of milking the post-apocalyptic world he’s dumped his heroes in.  While it does lead to action and adventure, there is one scene involving Dr. Strange and Wong that is an absolute, emotional gut-punch.  It was amazing how a scene that came seemingly out of left-field with so little build up could nonetheless have such a substantial emotional impact.  In fact, I think that it IS such a surprise lends it a lot of its impact.  It’s a great scene and a definite highlight of the run.

Omega: The Unknown #9 – Review

Jonathan Lethem and Karl Rusnak (Writers) and Farel Dalrymple (Artist)

Okay, I tend to lurk around the periphery of comic fandom, so someone will have to tell me: Is there any “buzz” around this book? Any? At all? [The Answer is ‘No.’ – Jason] Because it seems that there isn’t. Which is odd, considering it’s written by Jonathan Lethem and features a character created by Steve Gerber. Indifference to Lethem I can understand—he’s only famous in the quote unquote real world—but there was a time when Steve Gerber was the most celebrated writer in comics.

Gerber is kind of like Woody Allen: Even if you were there at the time, it’s hard to appreciate how revolutionary his work was back in the 70’s. Or maybe an analogy to Philip K. Dick would be more appropriate. Of all the comics being written at the time, only Gerber’s came close to the wild and unmoored Phildickian point of view. But Gerber didn’t doubt existence was real; he just doubted it had a point. “Absurd” and “mundane” were his two favorite adjectives. As far as Gerber was concerned, those were your only choices. “Meaningful” wasn’t on the menu.

In 1975, Gerber (along with Mary Skrenes) introduced Omega in what I consider one of the best first issues ever. The title character, a Superman-like figure, narrowly escapes the destruction of his home planet, pursued by one-eyed alien cyborgs. The cyborgs are also after an Earthling, an intellectual 12-year-old named James-Michael Starling. Like Omega, Starling is dark-haired, mysterious, and has the ability to shoot bolts of force from his hands when threatened. Also, it turns out his parents are robots. It was a great start to a series that quickly went downhill. In the last issue, number 10, Omega gained the dubious distinction of becoming the only super-hero to be shot to death by the police.

So what’s this new book about? I wish I could tell you. There’s a new Omega, who looks like a kid in his older brother’s pajamas. There are people without hands, hands without people, walking junk piles, heads with no bodies, and more midgets and misfits than a David Lynch movie. But the characters all wander around looking confused and slightly nauseous. There’s no passion, none of the snarky outrage that made Gerber so much fun to read.

Lethem and/or Rusnak try hard to capture his spirit, God bless them. Take this exposition that runs irreverently alongside a fight scene: “Kill or be killed. Eat or be eaten. Engulf and devour. Don’t play with your food. What makes you think you’re exempt from this special, one-time offer? The ‘Individual’ is one of our preferred marketing categories.” That’s pure Gerber right there.

But it just doesn’t work. I’ve studied this book carefully, trying to figure out why. It’s not the unfocussed plot, or goofy characters like the Mink, or Dalrymple’s art (which, frankly, is sometimes painful to look at). The problem is Lethem. Like many prose writers, he just doesn’t get the medium of comics. His dialogue doesn’t flow from one panel to the next. It’s as if he and Dalrymple are telling two different stories. Worse, his characters don’t take themselves seriously. Gerber understood that no matter how crazy things get, if the reader can’t see himself—see real people—in what he’s reading, then the story is dead in the water. Lethem and Dalrymple are trying, I can see that, and I give them credit. But it just doesn’t work. (Grade: C-)

– Andrew C. Murphy