Superman 80-Page Giant 2011 – Review

By: Too many to list—you’re better off reading the review.

The Story: Jor-El does Mission Impossible; Perry White takes a shot with Wildcat; the many lives of Jimmy Olsen; the inconsistent grammar of Bizarro World; Supergirl’s ten-second boyfriend; Lois Lane’s good deed; and Superboy, the Werewolf Slayer!

The Review: Annuals may be a grab bag of mixed features, they’ve got nothing on these “giants” DC likes to put out now and then.  You can’t always take them too seriously, but they’re often a surprisingly good showcase of unknown or rising talent in DC’s ranks.

Jor-El’s adventure into Krypton’s core starts off strong and has some great thrills, but his stream-of-consciousness narration drags the pace down.  Had Bud Tidwell more page-time, all his Krypton continuity might have paid bigger dividends, but mostly they’re distracting.  Still, you can’t go wrong with Cafu on art duties; from Jor-El’s expression of relief on his successful escape to Krypton’s skyline at night, everything’s just beautiful to look at.  And let’s just agree Bit’s inks and Santiago Arcas’ colors should accompany Cafu’s lines at all times.

Most Daily Planet stories revolve around Lois and Jimmy, the paper’s point men.  But Neil Kleid shows that they’re continuing a journalistic spirit begun by their boss.  Perry White’s boyhood tale of a run-in with Wildcat and the Guardian not only pays tribute to DC’s Golden Age stories, but speaks sentimentally to the bonds between fathers and sons.  Dean Haspiel gives a great retro look to the script that’s appropriate and lively, but also respects the emotional scenes.

In a strange twist, Abhay Khosla and Andy MacDonald’s Jimmy Olsen feature ends up the moodiest story in the issue, sort of discussing the philosophical implications of Jimmy’s multitude of wacky adventures.  It’s narrated and drawn well, and even has some good moments of humor, but lacks grounding.  It feels very Twilight Zone—you sense there’s an important point being made, but the execution is so weird you just wonder how it’s intended to affect or say something about the character.

I have nothing to say about the Bizarro story except it makes little sense—which is fitting, I suppose.  Dan McDaid’s cartoony art is perfect for fun Bizarro hijinks (though the yellowish cast over everything gets nauseating after a while), but Steve Horton doesn’t really offer much in the way of a coherent script, much less one with appreciable humor.

Joe Caramagna gets the right voice for Supergirl—curious, a bit self-conflicted, but hopeful—but it can’t be said he gives her appealing characters to bounce off of.  They seem like they’re just thrown in to give her people to talk to and some easy conflicts.  Sure, there are some clueless guys out there, but these dudes take the cake (“‘Karalinda.’  Asian, huh?”  Seriously?  She’s totally white and blonde!).  Trevor McCarthy draws it fantastically though—his lines are kinetic and youthful, though colored a bit too darkly by Andre Szymanowicz.

Justice Society of America #47 – Review

By: Marc Guggenheim (writer), Scott Kolins (artist), Mike Ativeh (colorist)

The Story: Green Lantern in space!  Dr. Fate wrestles for Lightning’s soul!  Mr. Terrific experiences Flowers for Algernon firsthand!

The Review: When DC announced that it’d be holding the price line at $2.99 at the cost of cutting some pages from its titles, there was certainly a mix of emotions.  The jubilance over the savings was marred by the concern that each issue would have less substance to be engaging.  So far, most titles have taken the impact pretty easily, some even improving from the compression.  Others, however, have suffered from being forced to squeeze their stories into the more limited space.

Among the suffering seems to be Marc Guggenheim’s Justice Society of America.  This issue sees the team split up across literally cosmic distances, each with their own particular conflict to handle.  On the one hand, this sets things up so there’s no short supply of storylines filling up the pages.  On the other hand, with less page-time devoted to each, you’re left unsatisfied by all of them.  There’s just a strong sense that crucial parts of each plotline have been sacrificed at some point to fit them all in.

So instead of showing what’s going on, Guggenheim has to tell it to you instead.  Take Dr. Fate and Lightning in the spirit realm.  You don’t get to see how they get there; Jay Garrick catches Dr. Midnight up to speed and then Fate himself gives a thoroughly unsatisfying explanation of his work (“I took a few shortcuts, acted on instinct mostly.  I sort of…pushed things along…”).  And once all that talk is done, you get cut away to the next storyline, leaving you to wonder what the point of it all is.

Then you have Mr. Terrific’s supposedly degrading intelligence.  Instead of seeing symptoms of his dire situation, you get treated to two solid pages of Dr. Chaos’ obnoxious, know-it-all gloating.  Without actually seeing real signs of Mr. Terrific losing his smarts, the emotional impact of it is lost, making you feel as if he’s in no real danger.  But the worst handling has to be Alan Scott’s sudden jump into space.  Not only does it come out of nowhere, but it gets exactly one page to vaguely hint at the reason why it happens (the Starheart is in trouble—or something).