Star Wars: The Force Awakens #2 - Marvel Comics

STAR WARS: THE FORCE AWAKENS No. 2, September 2016

Having quite literally flown through the opening of the motion picture during its premiere edition, Chuck Wendig’s script for Issue Two of “Star Wars: The Force Awakens” depicts the events “in a galaxy far, far away” at a much more considered pace, and, despite the adaption adding little to J.J. Abrams “epic space opera”, additionally provides its 49,423 strong readership with an opportunity to just watch Rey and Finn’s initially prickly relationship strengthen into a far closer, more mutually respectful friendship; “Your last shot was dead on! You got him with one blast! It was perfect!” In fact, even when the ‘legitimate’ owner of the "garbage freighter” the pair have commandeered from Jakku makes a dramatic appearance towards the end of the comic, the Pennsylvania-born writer’s narrative still predominantly focuses upon the exploits of the young scavenger and former stormtrooper.

Perhaps this book’s most noticeable change in story-telling tempo from its preceding instalment comes at the twenty-page periodical’s very beginning, with its pulse-pounding depiction of the Millennium Falcon skirting sand dunes and dodging laser blasts from two First Order TIE-fighters. The vast majority of this scene genuinely relies upon the breakdowns of Luke Ross rather than the pen of the John W. Campbell Award Finalist due to neither of the protagonists having a great deal to say as they fight for their lives aboard the “stolen Corellian TY-Model freighter”. But rather than therefore simply summarise the pair’s flight from the desert world within the space of a handful of frames, the Brazilian artist is given almost half the magazine to pencil Rey’s phenomenal ‘force sensitive’ piloting skills and her companion’s 'sharpshooter' ability with a cannon “stuck in forward position!”

Indeed, the “exclusive Marvel Comics artist” actually utilises this different story-telling medium to his advantage and includes ‘footage’ which wasn’t even filmed as part of the actual movie, such as a wonderful ‘flashback’ panel depicting Han Solo riding a tauntaun, blowing up the Endor shield generator bunker and kissing Princess Leia like a scoundrel. These character-led moments really help separate Wendig’s tale from just a plain, tired cinematic tie-in, and additionally provide the comic’s audience with an opportunity to better see elements of the adventure such as the smuggler’s Baleen-class heavy freighter and the Guavian Death Gang’s spacecraft as it docks alongside The Eravana.

The variant cover art of "STAR WARS: THE FORCE AWAKENS" No. 2 by Chris Samnee

Jackboot & Ironheel #4 - IDW Publishing

JACKBOOT & IRONHEEL No. 4, November 2016

Up until the point where he is (presumably) fatally pierced through the back by an enormous demonic tail-spike, Max Millgate’s titular character for Issue Four of “Jackboot & Ironheel” rather plays out like a moustached incarnation of George Lucas’ fictional archaeologist Indiana Jones. In fact, considering that the narrative for this twenty-two page periodical contains waterlogged secret passageways, a saintly hidden weapon buried deep underground and more gun-toting Nazis than a remake of the movie “The Last Crusade” could probably afford, it must have been genuinely hard for its readers not to have John Williams’ famous theme tune running through their heads as Eddie Neale assails a ruined tower, places his faith in God, and dodges bullets, tanks and even a squadron of planes…

Still, such similarities with the American media franchise are no bad thing at all, and apart from a touchingly sentimental opening, where Gunter bemoans Sister Evangeline’s cold-blooded murder by a German sentry and the former footballer sneakily manages to pilfer his guard's pistol, this “traditional war story set during World War Two” which “then takes a turn for the supernatural horror” is absolutely packed full of sense-stunning action. It certainly must have been hard for any perusing bibliophile to pause for breath once the British airman discovers a hidden stairway leading out of his cell, simultaneously avoids being shot at by both a Tiger Tank and Squadron of Stuka dive-bombers, and then subsequently finds himself facing the gigantic supernatural terror Kommandant Von-Kleist has inadvertently awakened; “One bullet left. Make it count!”

Perhaps this comic’s sole weakness is Millgate’s somewhat amateurish interior illustrations, which, whilst they do a fairly competent job of making it clear what is happening frame by frame, definitely lack the dynamic energy captured by the likes of Mike Mignola and his "German expressionism meets Jack Kirby" drawing style. However, considering the sheer scale of the mayhem caused by the Third Reich’s armoured response to the Devil’s satanic lake monster, the Leicester-born artist’s ‘minimalist’ approach at least provides a clear, uncluttered view of the pandemonium taking place, with a mutilated castle Kommandant, complete with eyes tentacles and gangrenous hand, proving a particularly stomach-churning treat for the eyes.

The variant 'subscription' cover art of "JACKBOOT & IRONHEEL" No. 4 by Max Millgate

World Of Tanks #3 - Dark Horse Comics

WORLD OF TANKS No. 3, December 2016

It’s probably fair to say that quite a few of this “authentic and historically based” book’s 5,645 followers felt acutely misled by “Dark Horse Comics” and their advertising for Issue Three of “World Of Tanks”. For whilst the Oregon-based publisher heavily promoted the fact that this mini-series, “inspired by Wargaming’s massively multiplayer online game”, was the collective work of Garth Ennis and “legendary” artist Carlos Ezquerra, this third instalment of the title’s story-arc set amidst “the war-torn countryside of Normandy” is actually drawn by “Infurious Comics” founder P.J. Holden, rather than the Spanish Inkpot Achievement Award-winner.

Such a dramatic change in look, and therefore feel, to this twenty-two page periodical arguably quite badly damages the impact of its all so serious “gritty” narrative, and dishearteningly, even goes so far as to lessen the impact of a particularly harrowing scene where Hauptman Kraft discovers the Canadian corpses of some unarmed prisoners mercilessly murdered by the ‘children’ of the twelfth S.S. Panzer Hitlerjugend, simply because of how different the German tank commander now looks. Indeed, the two illustrators’ drawing styles are so remarkably dissimilar that it can take the entirety of the comic before its abundantly clear just which of the British senior officers is actually Simon Linnet, or a repeated reading of a nocturnal camp-fire scene in order to ascertain the individual members of Snakebite’s identically dressed crew; “Budd, your appetite for misery never fails to amaze me!”

Perhaps this book’s greatest disappointment however, is that beneath the Northern Irishman’s admittedly competent, yet somewhat cartoony and noticeably inconsistent breakdowns, Ennis has actually penned an incredibly enthralling plot which provides both some wonderful, light-hearted humour in the guise of Kraft being thumped by the giant “bloke running a kampfgruppe full of pretty little blond boys”, and chillingly cold inhumanity, as the facially bruised Hauptman discovers the aforementioned uncovered grave full of brutally slain Allied soldiers. The Holywood-born writer even manages to provide the straight-laced Linnet with a moment of self-doubt and loathing, when the well-educated Englishman realises his men have captured, caught and eaten “a little [French] blind girl’s pet” rooster called Bernard.

Script: Garth Ennis, Artist: P.J. Holden, and Colors: Michael Atiyeh

Jackboot & Ironheel #3 - IDW Publishing

JACKBOOT & IRONHEEL No. 3, October 2016

Max Millgate undoubtedly ramps up both the fear and loathing factors for “Issue Three” of “Jackboot & Ironheel” by not only depicting Kommandant Von-Kleist’s loyal driver Kurt getting bitten in half by some five-storey tall tentacled monstrosity, but subsequently having his ‘creator-drive comic’ conclude with a well-meaning nun being cold-bloodily gunned-down through the back by a “Mein Kampf” reading German guard. Such graphically illustrated bodily mutilation and unchristian barbarism genuinely manages to incite the senses, and undoubtedly ensured that the majority of this title’s mortified readership were eager to acquire the mini-series’ fourth and final instalment; even if it was simply to confirm that the poor resourceful Sister Evangeline had actually reached her bloody end on the cold floor of solitary cell number nine.

Impressively however, this twenty-two page periodical’s narrative doesn’t just depict a plethora of mindlessly violent, supposedly inter-connecting action sequences. For whilst the freelance illustrator’s script does add to “the body count”, it also finally provides some context as to just why the “Prisoner Of War camp within the walls of a medieval castle” is haunted and how come “in times of great conflict” the defunct bell tower can be heard ringing. Indeed, in many ways the recounting of the legend of Count Ludwig Stromberg’s local bell maker Wulf is arguably the highlight of the book, with its wonderfully atmospheric illustrations, gorgeously gold colouring and stingingly effective morale tale that it is never wise to triumphantly declare that “even god cannot defeat me!”

Millgate even finds the time to actually add some personality to the story’s stereotypically “sinister ‘S.S.’ officer” by having Lungotz Luftzig’s Kommandant discuss his plans for Englishman Eddie Neale with his Kübelwagen confidant; “Permission to speak is granted. I can hear you thinking anyway”. This somewhat ‘sincere’ relationship between the two soldiers clearly establishes the cold-hearted man is capable of feeling emotions, even if it doesn’t help endear Von-Kleist to the publication's audience. Yet it also provides some weight to Kurt’s grisly disembowelment later on in the book and arguably even adds a hint of anguish to the voice of the comic’s main antagonist when, despite being enthralled within the tentacle of “a demonic monstrous thing”, he despairing calls out his deceased driver’s name…

The variant 'subscription' cover art of "JACKBOOT & IRONHEEL" No. 3 by Max Millgate

Doctor Who: The Eleventh Doctor #4 - Titan Comics

DOCTOR WHO: THE ELEVENTH DOCTOR No. 4, November 2014

Considering just how sympathetic this title’s 13,411 strong audience probably were towards Alice Obiefune's personal plight, it’s incredible to think how unbelievably ungrateful and dislikeable Al Ewing somehow manages to make her within just this twenty-two page periodical's opening quarter. After all, hadn’t the Timelord’s latest female travelling companion “felt like her life was falling apart before she met” the Gallifreyan? Hadn’t his offer to show her “all the beauty and strangeness of the universe” helped lift her spirits following the death of her mother, being made redundant and getting evicted?

Somewhat shockingly, the British author would strongly suggest not, and in an especially unpleasant fit of churlishness has the former library assistant angrily scold the ‘madman with a box’ for failing to take her home in order to keep a solicitor’s appointment. Such disillusionment with time travelling, and a need to deal with the more mundane challenges of day-to-day life, may well have proved a palpable attitude if the person spouting such virtues had been an enduring confidant who had finally tired of their perpetual adventuring, such as Jo Grant or Tegan Jovanko. But not some condescending, ill-mannered youth whose life ‘amongst the stars’ had only just started, and to whom the Doctor had treated with nothing but compassionate kindness…

Sadly, the rest of Ewing’s script for Issue Four of “Doctor Who: The Eleventh Doctor” proves just as disagreeable as Alice’s new found petulant persona. True, the ‘murder mystery’ set on board “a remote space research facility” finally starts to deal with “the temporal trail of the slippery SERVEYOUinc corporation” encountered by the TARDIS crew just a couple of editions earlier. Yet it’s ‘fresh take’ on the machinations of the “humourless” August Hart, a conniving, vicious chief of security who seemingly is trying to cover up the actions of a “formless creature creeping through the station, stealing voices and inflicting comas on those research scientists unlucky enough to be caught”, hardly makes for the “terrifying space adventure” advertised by “Titan Comics”.    

Perhaps the most unsettling aspect to “Whodunnit?” though, is Boo Cook’s breakdowns. Undoubtedly competent in his ability to sketch a story, the penciller really does an interesting job of caricaturing actor Matt Smith and his wayward hair. However, the same cannot be said for many of his other figures, most notably Hart and John Jones. Indeed, the incoming artist’s glowering, consistently cross-faced drawings of Obiefune is another reason why the young lady's character is so utterly detestable within this comic.

Writer: Al Ewing, Artist: Boo Cook, and Colorist: Hi-Fi

Weird War Tales #93 - DC Comics

WEIRD WAR TALES No. 93, November 1980

Published by “DC Comics” as “a war comic book title with supernatural overtones”, Issue Ninety Three of “Weird War Tales” is probably best remembered for both its frighteningly dramatic Joe Kubert cover illustration, and the fact that at a time when the publisher was “trying to revivify the mystery books by putting series into them”, it introduced “World War Two’s weirdest warriors -- The Creature Commandoes!” to the Bronze Age of Comics. It certainly isn’t currently valued at $250 for a 9.6 graded Certified Guaranty Company copy by “My Comic Shop” because of the anthology’s other rather forgettable “war stories with horror, mystery, fantasy and science fiction elements” in them…

Disappointingly however, and despite their debut story featuring the werewolf, vampire and (Frankenstein-inspired) monster ultimately destroying a castle full of Nazi robots in occupied France, J.M. De Matteis’ co-creations don’t appear in the most readily accessible of tales, and it’s easy to see just why the Brooklyn-born writer was later so dismissive of his “silly” idea to simply pen an adventure in which “ya gotta have a lot monsters.” Indeed, with the exception of the “good hearted marine” Lucky Taylor, “whose luck ran out when he stepped on a land mine” and necessitated a group of surgeons to put him back together, the team of blood-thirsty, savage military super-humans are distinctly dislikeable; even Lieutenant Matthew Shrieve of U.S. Army intelligence, who disconcertingly appears to have the most “monstrous spirit” of them all, and is willing to manipulate his men’s “fates as if we were just chattel!”

Bizarrely this twenty-five page periodical’s most memorably disturbing story therefore, is not the New Yorker’s idea that the Third Reich would create a horde of World Leader “android duplicates for the Nazis to slip in secretly”, but actually Mike W. Barr’s yarn “Rising Sun”. Set within the confines of an early Forties relocation camp, where its residents’ only crime was “simply being related to the enemy with which America was at war”, this worrisome narrative unashamedly deals with Colonel Robert Simon’s prejudicial paranoia by depicting the commanding officer instigating a viciously brutal interrogation of his tenants following the discovery of “unauthorised radio broadcasts from this camp to a receiver off the coast -- probably a submarine!”

Writer: J.M. De Matteis, and Artists: Pat Broderick & John Celardo

Doctor Who: The Eleventh Doctor #3 - Titan Comics

DOCTOR WHO: THE ELEVENTH DOCTOR No. 3, October 2014

Despite containing an incredibly sacrilegious re-imagining of the Third Doctor’s “hi-tech, yellow Edwardian roadster” into a disconcertingly large monster truck, and the somewhat low-key introduction of an additional travelling companion in the shape of “the ultimate pop star” John Jones, Issue Three of “Doctor Who: The Eleventh Doctor” probably still provided it’s 14,854 readers with plenty of light-hearted laughs and fun-filled action. For whilst Rob Williams’ narrative clearly has the onerous chore of having to explain the “tantalizing, achronological mystery” of his predecessor’s previous instalment, “What He Wants…” also manages to both turn Alice Obiefune’s emotional pain regarding the death of her mother into the key motivator behind the Timelord’s trip back to the “Dog & Duck” in 1962, and cause her subsequent harsh criticism of the Chameleon of Pop’s debut performance as the reason behind why “The Tall Pale Earl” would follow the disillusioned library assistant into a blue Police telephone box; “Oi! You two! I heard you two slagging me off outside the club. You ought to be ashamed of yourselves.”

True, the former freelance journalist’s ensuing tale of “something stalking the bluesmen through the swamps of Mississippi” and “offering them talent beyond imaging, worlds at their feet – in exchange for their souls” is not a terribly well thought out storyline; especially as it once again relies heavily upon the extra-terrestrial corporation SERVEYOUinc and its inexplicable ability to provide people with “some sort of nasty, quick fix life-force enhancement”. But it does at least afford the lead protagonist with plenty of Matt Smith-sounding dialogue, a couple of pulse-pounding foot chases through a southern U.S. state in 1931, and John Jones’ quite hilarious abduction of the indoctrinated Gallifreyan from amidst an entire planation filled full of creepy mantra-chanting mind-controlled minions.

Most of these Machiavellian machinations are well illustrated by Simon Fraser, with the Scotsman’s rather stylised, bendy-looking figures appearing suitably frantic as the Timelord’s rubber-like physiology permits him to straddle wooden fencing, negotiate a barn-full of reprogrammed negro workers and be roughly dragged protestingly into the back of a giant-wheeled Bessie. However, sadly the same cannot be said for the rest of the artist’s pencilling, which, whenever tasked to deliver a character’s close-up or render something sedentary in nature, like Alice simply holding a conversation, appears disinteresting, poorly detailed and unattractively malformed.

The regular cover art of "DOCTOR WHO: THE ELEVENTH DOCTOR" No. 3 by Verity Glass