I may have mentioned this before, but, I'm a terrible comics reader.
Not because reading comics is bad in any sense - of course not - and not because I'm slow or stupid and thus incapable of following an illustrated story effectively - well, unless it's Grant Morrison, but since I threw out my The Return of Bruce Wayne from His Not-Dead Death by Time Travel Omega Eyebeam blah blah something ANTILIFE and Now He's A Robot until Wonder Woman Punches Him Back to Normal* trade I don't feel so bad about that. No, I mean my problem is twofold; I never buy single issues, and I never listen to any sort of hype for new releases unless it's hype that agrees with me. Because obviously, if something doesn't tally up with my opinions it's WRONG and should not exist. Like Wolverine, who I'm fairly sure is only popular due to a mass brainwashing program/Hugh Jackman's dreamy eyes.
Okay, enough stalling: the two books I wanna talk about today are prime examples of my Second Failing, things I was interested by because they tickled parts of my brain I'm already fond of, but for a change I decided to pick them up one issue at a time...and they both turned out so well I've stuck to it. Now I'm only a singular failure! Wayhey!
(The following is a reaction piece to, and may contain spoilers for, issues 1-10 of Captain Marvel and 1-6 of X-Men Legacy.)
Captain Marvel vol. 7 #9 cover by Jamie McKelvie
Starting with Captain Marvel, because...alphabet?...I didn't really need anyone to do a hard sell for me on this one. Just say 'Carol Danvers has her own book again' and of course I'm going to be all over it like a persistent rash. I've talked before about her last ongoing series, which started great but tried juggling too many things at once and stumbled to a forgettable conclusion, and since then I'd been doing my best to keep up with Carol's activities, but that proved tricky what with the swarm of Avengers books, the constantly-shifting team line-ups, and...well, she didn't really do all that much. Certainly not under the pen of Brian Bendis, former overfiend of all things 'A', who mostly seemed to be keeping Carol around out of a sense of obligation rather than real fondness. She never had her own subplots in anything bar the shortlived post-Civil War Mighty Avengers series, and her sole function in New Avengers was being Jessica Drew's gal pal (do people still say that?). It wasn't really a great time for her, or me, watching a lady I'd invested so much time, money and enthusiasm into just fade quietly away into the background. Stars are not meant to lose their shine so.
Still, good things come to those who wait. And this new series, written by Kelly Sue DeConnick (ably assisted by Chris Sebela in latter issues) has been a very good thing so far. DeConnick brings natural wit to rival any of her peers, but carefully stops short of making every bubble a joke and every character a comedian. In fact, that's probably the key word for this series, balance. At its core Captain Marvel is a fairly low-key character drama, with the focus firmly on our protagonist Carol and her steadily-shifting circle of friends, which is where most of the stakes arise from; in #6, the real worry isn't that Carol's time-travel journey will screw up her own origin and potentially rob her of her powers, but that she might not return to the present in time to see her old friend Tracy into the operating room. It's a small victory viewed through a conventional superhero lens but it means the world, even in a story with spaceships, an exploding wishing machine and a guy called Yon-Rogg who you're supposed to take seriously (a bit) (maybe). Even so, the book never feels small, partly because it's still giving you the crazy boom-stuff we all expect from superhero stories. The quiet moments of pathos sit side-by-side with the 40-foot robots made from aeroplane scrapyards, and though they don't necessarily always mesh, they never cramp one another. Also, on a side note, 10 issues in and this series has been very sparing with long-running plot threads. Virtually everything that started in the first 6-issue arc was resolved by its end, and the 'filler' issues 7 & 8 were their own little self-contained thing. It's nice to see that lessons have been learned from past failings.
A little side note about #9 - it's been said before, but even if you don't feel like committing to the whole series, you owe it to yourself to pick this single issue up. It works just fine without any prior reading, is effortlessly funny and disarmingly hopeful, and moves at a brisk but never furious pace. And then the last two panels kick you in the nuts, but, y'know, who needs happy endings?
Like I said, I don't need anyone giving me the hard sell when it comes to taking Carol 'Captain Ms. Warbird Binary Cheeseburger Marvel' Danvers seriously as a protagonist, and she's still a great focal point here. DeConnick's Carol isn't necessarily a revolution compared to past takes - she still carries the long-suffering dry humour and fiery temper of Brian Reed's incarnation - but there's a greater focus on how she interacts with the people around her, or at least the people who are neither close friends nor due for a punch in the face, anyway. This is a Carol with a far more obvious softer side than we've ever seen before, and yet still has the edge of steel that attracted her ride-or-die committed fanbase. She may be self-critical, but never self-doubting; she may be stubborn as a mule but only when her inner moral compass demands she be. I should also mention that, since the Civil War event is now far enough in the past for all of us to pretend it never happened (well, I am), we don't have to put up with constant reminders that Carol is a domineering hardass, reminders that skewed dangerously close to souring audience sympathy last time around.
The supporting cast is a joy, too. I'll be honest; despite owning the Essential Ms. Marvel paperback collection, I'd forgotten all about Tracy Burke and Frank Gianelli in all but the broadest terms ("oh yeah, Carol used to work on that magazine with, uhm, the lady who smoked and, y'know, that...guy?") and after so many years I wondered why they'd make a comeback now. And, well, sure, Frank's currently a bit disposable, his potential-love-interest spot being the kind easily filled by virtually anyone, but at least he's well-written, and the use of him as an inverse-gender 'damsel in distress' during the New Orleans adventure was bloody hilarious. Tracy, by comparison, is pretty much a constant laugh riot, despite her looming, gloomy fate; the grumpy, snarling, acidic biting remarks she shoots at every single little thing are terribly endearing, as is the way her obvious affection for Carol is counterbalanced by her apparent hatred for everyone else Carol knows. Oh, and Carol still has her cat. I can't tell you how pleased that makes me. It's the little things.
Then there's Helen Cobb, who's a bit more complicated. The overall arc of the first 6 issues is based heavily around Cobb, a pioneering female pilot in a time when the thought of women flying planes in any official capacity seemed as likely as salmon growing legs and supplanting us as the dominant species on Earth; suffice to say she needed to be a right tough cookie to survive then, and she didn't care who knew it. Carol idolised her through her young adult years, and as the story unfolds she winds up crossing paths with Cobb at a younger age, and has to balance her reverence for the woman's legend with her understandable desire to keep this flyin' firebrand from becoming her own worst enemy. Their relationship isn't easy, both seeing the kindred spirit in the other but being held back, either by suspicion and jealousy, or by the "butterfly protocols" that could send history spinning off in the wrong direction. Even after reading the story a dozen times, I'm still not sure how I feel about Helen in the end; her selfishness could have cut short Carol's heroic career, but at the same time she kind of knew and may have been praying all along for Carol to rise to the occasion and stop her. But it's that uncertainty that makes her appearance all the more memorable, and we may not have seen the last of her.
Art on the first 4 issues (a few page-long side-stories notwithstanding) plus 7 & 8 was handled by Dexter Soy, a newcomer to the Marvel fold at the time, and he kicked the series off with a nuclear-strength BANG. His work sports the smoothly-flowing shades and occasionally murky details one tends to see in painted comics art, but whereas most painted pages come off as lifelessly static, Soy's layouts positively burst with dynamic energy, giving every big splash page and burst of action a larger-than-life blockbuster sheen. His choice of colours is also A-1, blending a neutral background tone with as much of the foreground as he can and only deviating to highlight points of particular importance/noisy awesomeness (see the above pic because this is just a terrible description). Even the smaller panels look lovely thanks to his excellent expressions and natural eye for framing. I've never more desired to have a comic be compatible with 3D glasses than Soy's work here. And I mean that in a good way, shut up.
Taking over on issues 5 & 6 was Emma Rios, who's been fairly busy at Marvel the last few years, although I'm ashamed to say I'm unfamiliar with a lot of her work - mind you, the Dr. Strange miniseries she did with Mark Waid is a personal favourite, so I was happy to hear of her getting this gig. Rios' work lacks the open-wide spectacle of Soy's, but perhaps because of that, her issues are laid out to steer the story away from such things, becoming closer and more intimate as it goes, and when it comes to the little details, there are few who excel quite like Rios. Her lines just bleed emotion in a way I've never seen elsewhere, and she has a great eye for period detail that's a blessing on a tale with this sort of time-hopping narrative. That said, I don't think her work here quite matches the loveliness of the aforementioned Strange. It might be down to the colour work by Jordie Bellaire, whose somewhat muted tones don't mesh with Rios' pencils as well as the bolder, more sharply-contrasted choices of Christina Strain and Val Staples once did. Also, I'm not too fond of how skinny Carol looks in these issues, but that really is just nit-picking, isn't it?
From issue 9 and onwards, art duties have gone to Filipe Andrade, also a relative newcomer but already with an impressively wide selection of past titles under his belt. Andrade's work is the kind that's bound to be divisive, since it firmly eschews the established pseudo-realism of most modern superhero comics in favour of a looser, more impressionist style. Personally, I like seeing 'conventional' comics courting distinct, unusual art, so long as it fits my standard of whatever 'good' is - and two issues in, Andrade is hitting the right buttons for me. His characters may be odd of proportion and gangly of limb, but their body language is always clear, they relate to each other size-wise in the right fashion, and they always seem so delightfully animated, as if they're struggling to pull themselves free of the page and dance around in your lap. Just look at Carol wailing on that punch-bag up there; even without sound FX captions, you can feel the BOOOOOM. His action scenes are clear and his talky scenes are paced and structured well. Also, Jordie Bellaire's colouring seems to work a whole lot better on Andrade's pencils than it did on Rios' work. I'm not even sure exactly how, it just...looks right. Like it's the work of one person instead of two. Like it belongs.
Captain Marvel could have been so much less than it is and still sold, y'know? It didn't have to pack this much pathos, didn't have to be so thematically true, and sure as hell didn't have to take chances on such wildly different artists. It could have just been another cape book, and it would've done okay. But the brains behind this series weren't going to be satisfied with 'okay'; just like their leading lady, they pushed for something greater, and hoo boy did they get there. I want this series to last forever, I really do.
X-Men Legacy Vol.2 #4 cover by Mike Del Mundo
X-Men Legacy is a different story altogether - which is a pretty good summary of its content and appeal in general, but what I mean is, I didn't go, "oh, there's a new series starting that ignores all the X-characters anyone's heard of in favour of Charles Xavier's illegitimate son from a few super-convoluted crossovers however many years ago now? PULL LIST!!!" I didn't even know who/what Legion was, and truth be told, it had been a very long time since I'd given a second look to the X-shaped corner of the Marvel universe. Much has been written about how the various X-books have dealt with the themes of bigotry, equality and alienation over the years...what's mentioned less is, that's literally all they've ever been about for friggin' ages to the point where there really isn't anything more worth saying. Not that every comic desperately needs thematic resonance (ooh fancy words) to be a fun read, but in the case of the X-verse it's led to a sort of stalling in the story department also; the various squads of X-Men have been fighting for mutant rights non-stop for decades now, and yet the world still hates and fears them like it's 1963. Zero progress has been made; every big story has amounted to two steps forward and then a quick hop right back in the ditch they started in.
So, no, I did not pick up X-Leg #1 because of its leading man or the big X-shaped umbrella it fell under. I bought it because it was written by Simon Spurrier, who for various reasons is the kind of name I have complete and utter blind faith in. And by 'various reasons' I mean The Simping Detective, which is a thing everyone, everywhere, should read at some point because it is just genius on every level. Spurrier is undeniably a smart, gifted writer, with an eye for plotting that's never straightforward but still sticks to its own rails and doesn't lose the reader, although if I'm honest it's his sense of humour that really endeared him to me. In about, oh, seven years or more, I've never read a single issue's worth of material from him that wasn't the most hilarious thing I read/saw/heard/thought/was attacked by that day.
Anyway, for the uninitiated, Legacy centers around David Haller, potentially one of the strongest mutants on Earth, with hundreds, maybe thousands of devastating and zany superpowers locked away in the corners of his mind. Alas, those corners are in the form of jail cells, with the powers embodied as prisoners, each a raving psychotic monster desirous of controlling David's body full-time - and in the aftermath of Chucky X popping his clogs, the cells are open and it's riot time in brain jail. While all this is happening, David is wandering the world, being drawn by psychic clues and herded by threats, trying to find a place where he can actually do some good rather than accidentally wipe out the universe for a change. The way the series progresses isn't what you'd call focused, but then, it kind of reflects the lead character's scattered thoughts and lack of focus for the most part, so it all kind of fits. Actually, let's just broaden that statement; Legacy is a book entirely composed of oddball choices, parts and moments that don't immediately seem connected - and in some cases just point-blank aren't connected at all - but in the end, it all fits together and what you wind up with is a truly great comic. Though there's plenty of lip service paid to the "we're different and everyone hates us for it" manifesto, the main theme here is of self-discovery and the burden of growing up in your parents' shadow. Spurrier's true gift is that he can balance moments of pathos and slapstick without losing anything from either, and juggling that kind of ever-shifting tone is a hell of a trick - and sure, having the story proceed on two neatly-divided levels of consciousness (the 'real world' and the interior of David's brain) might make separating the two a hair more convenient, but the fact that I can wince sympathetically as a pair of Japanese schoolkids tear apart David's few good memories of daddy dearest in one panel, then annoy everyone else on the train with my loud giggling as Mental Construct David (Dav-id?) runs away Scooby Gang-style from a dinosaur with a clock for a face, is testament to some pretty supreme craftsmanship.
So, who is David Haller? I mean, besides a Scottish lad with crazy hair and a disdain for clothes. He's embittered and jaded, but he'll cling to any shred of hope that becomes available like it's more precious than the air he breathes - and, hell, in some ways it is. He makes fun of people wearing lycra even while he rocks a sleeveless puffy leather jacket with a popped collar and no shoes (presumably none of his super-amazing omega powers are the equivalent of a f***ing mirror). He hates his old man, except when he loves him. And he likes Star Wars, because what kind of joyless hobgoblin doesn't? Although where he got the time to watch the films in-between enforced comas and creating alternate universes by accident, I couldn't say. Bottom line is, he's a kid finally coming to terms with the fact that he can't run away from his powers - or his problems - indefinitely, and is determined to do something meaningful and good with them before they overwhelm him again. Of course, being a kid, he isn't especially focused, and started his quest with only quarter-formed ideas at best, but they have since grown into something like a full manifesto, albeit one written in sand for now...and one that gets put on hold whenever the mind-monsters start a-massing, a constant threat that makes David a permanent underdog in every struggle.
This guy up here, with the accent and the fire-throat-hole thing, is Chamber, and he is perhaps the best possible symbol of the weirdly unfocused style of Legacy you could find. Chamber is alllll over the first 6 issues like a rash, and in all honesty, he doesn't have a reason to be there. He's just an extra body to fill out the X-squad chasing David around and giving his journey a little urgency and hostility to overcome. So why is he in the book? Well, it's because he's a snarky wee English arsehole dressed for a Judas Priest concert who vomits fire at things (or maybe some sort of psychic fire, but it looks like normal fire and works like normal fire - I don't know, it's like trying to explain how Ghost Rider's fire is different from the norm, you waste 5 paragraphs sorting it all out and all you get are cross-eyed looks for your troubles). And why wouldn't you want that in your already-weird X-verse book? It's basically just Spurrier throwing things in because he likes them, and while it's perhaps proper to shake your head and tut-tut at this kind of childish whim being approved by editors, that would make me sound like a complete prat so never mind. Besides, I like Chamber too now. More of him, I say, and especially more of him blowing up Wolverine.
More prominent in the plot is Blindfold, an eyeless psychic girl with major self-esteem issues, who shares some sort of connection with David that hasn't quite been sorted out yet. Ruth's an immediately endearing character, always drawn to seem smaller and more 'fragile' than all the burly, fuzzy-haired, big-muscled X-people she hangs around with, and her distorted, grammar-voiding speech carrying the uncomfortable submissiveness of a domestic abuse victim (not far from the truth, it turns out). She doesn't last too long in the arc before being zapped into a coma by a >>SPOILERTAG!!<<, but that does lead to a wonderfully evocative recap of her 'origin story' in #5, and the promise of much more to be shared between herself and Don't Call Me Legion in future issues. And of course, there's the main heavy for the first arc, who is a pair of disembodied eyes talking almost exclusively in racist slurs I really, really tried not to snicker at (and sadly failed in a few cases - I know, I'm a horrible person, boo hoo, excuse me while I self-flagellate with a toothbrush). What, you were expecting Apocalypse to show up here and be all "I WILL CRUSH YOUR SILLY HAIR 'NEATH MY BOOTED HEEL"? Son, this is X-Men Legacy, even an 8-foot cyborg with arm-pipes and blue metallic lipgloss reaching up to his ears isn't nearly weird enough for this book. Suffice to say that Mystery Eyeball Villain Thing is a proper scum-bucket, albeit one that makes some worryingly salient points that perhaps push David in the wrong direction...or the right one?...
Legacy's first three issues (and future ones from #7 onwards) were pencilled by Tan Eng Huat, whose work I previously encountered in Jason Aaron's Ghost Rider run. Though I liked that series quite a bit (and said series also had a Danny Ketch-starring spin-off written by Mr. Spurrier which, yes, you absolutely must read) it was largely in spite of Huat's work; the stretched-out faces, weirdly contortioned bodies and slightly faded colours never really gelled with a character which, let's face it, only looks right when he seems to have been pulled from a heavy metal album cover, or perhaps the side of a custom van. Thankfully though, Legacy suits his skewed visuals a whole lot better. The skinny, misshapen bodies given to most of the cast make perfect sense in a world "where (it ain't) the #$%#&$ with the biggest pecs wins the day". His eye for utterly bizarre character concepts is given all the legroom it wants when filling up Legion's brain-jail with all manner of weird and wonderful freaks. And of course, he's responsible for a lot of the established visual language of the book, from the issue titles getting a big block of space to themselves several pages in, to the oppressive reddish-pink hue of all the Quortex Complex sequences, and even down to David's 'costume', such as it is. I still feel like there's more to Huat and his art that hasn't been unveiled yet, but since it seems he's in for the long haul, I'm content to wait and see what springs forth next.
Of course I was gonna use the page where Logan gets head-spanked! Jorge Molina - who's worked on a multitude of other X-verse titles before this - filled in as artist for #4-6, and while his more...conventional? Realistic? Let's just say 'normal' style doesn't quite fit the series the way Huat's work did, I think he did a great job adapting the established designs from Huat's run and maintaining a valuable sense of synchronicity with the preceding issues. He also benefitted by having Spurrier go a little more mad with his scripting on these issues, forcing Molina to rise to the occasion and detail the gruesome work of the Skinsmith, the Origamist's distinctive 'space-folding' transportation, that kiss, and the wonderful shifting layout of Blindfold's origin recap, all twisting and turning across the page around David's phantom image - all very clever ideas masterfully realised. But of course, the single most important thing Molina brought to the table was a better costume for Chamber. Gotta dig those wallet chains.
X-Men Legacy is not a book for everyone, I know that. There will be plenty of people who, sadly, will never be able to relate to an X-book without one of the heavy hitters like Cyclops or Storm or the shortarse hairy Bananaman lookalike in the lead role, for whatever reason. Equally, some will find the irreverent tone and refusal to play by the rules and structure of your typical cape books to be intimidating and unusual. But then, that's precisely why I like the series so much. It's published by one of the 'Big 2' and is part of possibly the most profitable franchise/universe/whatever in comics, and yet every other detail about it seems to have been designed to be as nonconformist and counter-intuitive as possible. It's prog rock being sold as a One Direction single. Except with pictures and words and no music. You know what I mean. Just give #7 a try, it has Abigail Brand and some shouty versions of the Tall Man's flying spheres from Phantasm in it. It is totally sensible and not at all inflammatory to minor religious groups, I promise.*
* - Not an actual promise
So, who is David Haller? I mean, besides a Scottish lad with crazy hair and a disdain for clothes. He's embittered and jaded, but he'll cling to any shred of hope that becomes available like it's more precious than the air he breathes - and, hell, in some ways it is. He makes fun of people wearing lycra even while he rocks a sleeveless puffy leather jacket with a popped collar and no shoes (presumably none of his super-amazing omega powers are the equivalent of a f***ing mirror). He hates his old man, except when he loves him. And he likes Star Wars, because what kind of joyless hobgoblin doesn't? Although where he got the time to watch the films in-between enforced comas and creating alternate universes by accident, I couldn't say. Bottom line is, he's a kid finally coming to terms with the fact that he can't run away from his powers - or his problems - indefinitely, and is determined to do something meaningful and good with them before they overwhelm him again. Of course, being a kid, he isn't especially focused, and started his quest with only quarter-formed ideas at best, but they have since grown into something like a full manifesto, albeit one written in sand for now...and one that gets put on hold whenever the mind-monsters start a-massing, a constant threat that makes David a permanent underdog in every struggle.
This guy up here, with the accent and the fire-throat-hole thing, is Chamber, and he is perhaps the best possible symbol of the weirdly unfocused style of Legacy you could find. Chamber is alllll over the first 6 issues like a rash, and in all honesty, he doesn't have a reason to be there. He's just an extra body to fill out the X-squad chasing David around and giving his journey a little urgency and hostility to overcome. So why is he in the book? Well, it's because he's a snarky wee English arsehole dressed for a Judas Priest concert who vomits fire at things (or maybe some sort of psychic fire, but it looks like normal fire and works like normal fire - I don't know, it's like trying to explain how Ghost Rider's fire is different from the norm, you waste 5 paragraphs sorting it all out and all you get are cross-eyed looks for your troubles). And why wouldn't you want that in your already-weird X-verse book? It's basically just Spurrier throwing things in because he likes them, and while it's perhaps proper to shake your head and tut-tut at this kind of childish whim being approved by editors, that would make me sound like a complete prat so never mind. Besides, I like Chamber too now. More of him, I say, and especially more of him blowing up Wolverine.
More prominent in the plot is Blindfold, an eyeless psychic girl with major self-esteem issues, who shares some sort of connection with David that hasn't quite been sorted out yet. Ruth's an immediately endearing character, always drawn to seem smaller and more 'fragile' than all the burly, fuzzy-haired, big-muscled X-people she hangs around with, and her distorted, grammar-voiding speech carrying the uncomfortable submissiveness of a domestic abuse victim (not far from the truth, it turns out). She doesn't last too long in the arc before being zapped into a coma by a >>SPOILERTAG!!<<, but that does lead to a wonderfully evocative recap of her 'origin story' in #5, and the promise of much more to be shared between herself and Don't Call Me Legion in future issues. And of course, there's the main heavy for the first arc, who is a pair of disembodied eyes talking almost exclusively in racist slurs I really, really tried not to snicker at (and sadly failed in a few cases - I know, I'm a horrible person, boo hoo, excuse me while I self-flagellate with a toothbrush). What, you were expecting Apocalypse to show up here and be all "I WILL CRUSH YOUR SILLY HAIR 'NEATH MY BOOTED HEEL"? Son, this is X-Men Legacy, even an 8-foot cyborg with arm-pipes and blue metallic lipgloss reaching up to his ears isn't nearly weird enough for this book. Suffice to say that Mystery Eyeball Villain Thing is a proper scum-bucket, albeit one that makes some worryingly salient points that perhaps push David in the wrong direction...or the right one?...
Legacy's first three issues (and future ones from #7 onwards) were pencilled by Tan Eng Huat, whose work I previously encountered in Jason Aaron's Ghost Rider run. Though I liked that series quite a bit (and said series also had a Danny Ketch-starring spin-off written by Mr. Spurrier which, yes, you absolutely must read) it was largely in spite of Huat's work; the stretched-out faces, weirdly contortioned bodies and slightly faded colours never really gelled with a character which, let's face it, only looks right when he seems to have been pulled from a heavy metal album cover, or perhaps the side of a custom van. Thankfully though, Legacy suits his skewed visuals a whole lot better. The skinny, misshapen bodies given to most of the cast make perfect sense in a world "where (it ain't) the #$%#&$ with the biggest pecs wins the day". His eye for utterly bizarre character concepts is given all the legroom it wants when filling up Legion's brain-jail with all manner of weird and wonderful freaks. And of course, he's responsible for a lot of the established visual language of the book, from the issue titles getting a big block of space to themselves several pages in, to the oppressive reddish-pink hue of all the Quortex Complex sequences, and even down to David's 'costume', such as it is. I still feel like there's more to Huat and his art that hasn't been unveiled yet, but since it seems he's in for the long haul, I'm content to wait and see what springs forth next.
Of course I was gonna use the page where Logan gets head-spanked! Jorge Molina - who's worked on a multitude of other X-verse titles before this - filled in as artist for #4-6, and while his more...conventional? Realistic? Let's just say 'normal' style doesn't quite fit the series the way Huat's work did, I think he did a great job adapting the established designs from Huat's run and maintaining a valuable sense of synchronicity with the preceding issues. He also benefitted by having Spurrier go a little more mad with his scripting on these issues, forcing Molina to rise to the occasion and detail the gruesome work of the Skinsmith, the Origamist's distinctive 'space-folding' transportation, that kiss, and the wonderful shifting layout of Blindfold's origin recap, all twisting and turning across the page around David's phantom image - all very clever ideas masterfully realised. But of course, the single most important thing Molina brought to the table was a better costume for Chamber. Gotta dig those wallet chains.
X-Men Legacy is not a book for everyone, I know that. There will be plenty of people who, sadly, will never be able to relate to an X-book without one of the heavy hitters like Cyclops or Storm or the shortarse hairy Bananaman lookalike in the lead role, for whatever reason. Equally, some will find the irreverent tone and refusal to play by the rules and structure of your typical cape books to be intimidating and unusual. But then, that's precisely why I like the series so much. It's published by one of the 'Big 2' and is part of possibly the most profitable franchise/universe/whatever in comics, and yet every other detail about it seems to have been designed to be as nonconformist and counter-intuitive as possible. It's prog rock being sold as a One Direction single. Except with pictures and words and no music. You know what I mean. Just give #7 a try, it has Abigail Brand and some shouty versions of the Tall Man's flying spheres from Phantasm in it. It is totally sensible and not at all inflammatory to minor religious groups, I promise.*
~+~
So yeah. My two favourite comics in existence right now.
Now who do I have to yell at to get a crossover happening? NO I DON'T CARE IF IT DOESN'T MAKE SENSE. I swear, next A+X issue, Whiz-Bang plus Big Hair. It'll sell millions even if I have to buy every copy myself...
* - Not an actual promise
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