PunisherMAX #13 – Review

by Jason Aaron (script), Steve Dillon (art), Matt Hollingsworth (colors), and Cory Petit (letters)

The Story: Stuck in a cell, Frank contemplates his past life with his wife and kids, realizing that family life and prison life might not be so far apart.

The Review:  Since coming back from its hiatus, Jason Aaron and Steve Dillon has truly found its voice, finding a perfect tone that has made it one of the best reads out of Marvel.  This month’s issue does nothing at all to buck that trend.

A heavily introspective issue, this issue leans heavily upon narration/monologue from Frank.  It’s the sort of gritty sincerity that Aaron excels at and is a joy to read.  If you were one of the readers who lamented the lack of Frank in Aaron’s run up this point, this is the kind of issue that ought to make you happy.

One of the strongest portions of this month’s book is a moment where Aaron robs Frank of his Punisher mystique.  It’s a process that’s painful to watch and heavily internal.  Frank ends up looking old and vulnerable and feels almost naked without the Punisher rep scaring off the crooks.  It’s a heavy moment that makes this arc feel legitimately dangerous for the main character, a feat not easily accomplished in Marvel comics.

Other than this, however, most of the issue is spent in flashback.  It’s cool enough seeing Frank’s family life, but more than that, Aaron and Dillon make it horrifically mundane or, rather, they make it clear just how antithetical it is to what Frank is.  Things feel repetitive and Aaron and Dillon do a fantastic job showing how Frank doesn’t fit in with average life and how it deadens him.  In fact, it’s here that Dillon’s artwork most excels, as he draws younger Frank with a completely dead-eyed expression throughout that is fairly disturbing.

PunisherMAX #12 – Review

by Jason Aaron (writer), Steve Dillon (art), Matt Hollingsworth (colors), and Cory Petit (letters)

The Story: Locked in a prison infirmary and unable to defend himself as enemies surround him, Frank recalls a chance encounter back in Vietnam.

The Review: That’s two for two.  Last month, I ranted and raved about just how awesome this book is and now, 12 issues in, I honestly believe that we are seeing the very best of this series.  Since returning from that long hiatus, Aaron is creating an exemplary Punisher comic.

This issue is a massive success because it touches on so much of what makes the Punisher a compelling character (contrary to the belief that many seem to have of his being two-dimensional).  On the one hand, there’s the public persona, the Punisher mystique that haunts the streets and is both myth and legend.  On the other hand, there’s the beast that lurks within Frank Castle, the incomprehensible drive and relentlessness. I truly believe that using and addressing these two points is critical to making a good Punisher comic.  Here, Aaron divides this issue into two stories, each of them addressing one of these two aspects of the Punisher and both succeed massively.

In the present-day portion, the sheer terror and suspicion that the Punisher has clearly ingrained in the collective criminal consciousness is a lot of fun to read.  Prisoners prepare to attack a bed-ridden, restrained Frank Castle with his limbs in casts and all, but they’re still too scared to do it.  It’s all part of Frank’s plan, he’s just waiting for them to try something.  Of course, that’s just paranoia on the part of the prisoners.  Frank’s too broken to even move.  But this terror and doubt is amazing to read.  It’s ridiculous to the point of comedy which only makes it that much more fun to read, to see the legend of the Punisher having such an effect.

The flashback to Vietnam is essentially Jason Aaron analyzing the Punisher/Frank Castle character, and it is a fantastic piece of work.  It sees Frank conversing with a physically restrained soldier gone murderously insane.  This soldier hits many of the same notes that Bullseye did last month, albeit at greater length and in more detail.  But what makes it so special is that, particularly given that the soldier is never named, this almost reads like a surreal, internal dialogue, as though Frank is conversing with and denying a part of himself.  That raving, bloodlusting lunatic could just as easily be the frothing animal that lurks behind Frank’s stoic exterior.  The result is unsettling, but also absolutely gripping.