The New 52, Marvel Now, and The Avengers move have all come out since 2009, proving Scripo’s analysis of the superhero genre is on the nose.  Superhero comics are currently in something that would fairly be called “The Platinum Age.”

Something interesting is happening around the edges, though. Comic books have broadened themselves out again. The comics code authority’s rise in the mid 50s ended horror, noir crime and any sexually explicit comics. Starting in the 80s we saw some of these genres returning to publication, but to me, looking back, many of those works feel juvenile; like a 15-year-old trying so hard to prove they could be an adult. At their worst The Dark Knight Returns and Watchmen feel like shock media, though never for long, and never in the same way The Youngbloods do.

I just interrupted my reading of Ed Bubaker and Sean Phillips moody Fatale to write this. We read and loved Greg Rucka and Matthew Southworth Stumptown recently. Though neither Leland or I love Multiple Warheads or Saga as much as the zeitgeist seems to they are works of substance and value. Fantasy comics, which have always had a slow, reliable market seem to be bursting out of their corner with Mice Templar and Amethyst. Soft and hard sci-fi comics litter the shelves, from a surprisingly good Star Wars title to the delightfuly whimsical Lost Vegas. Valliant comics is insuring that the Dark Age is forgotten, publishing a grip of well reviewed anti-heroes.

Though Scripo’s analysis is shiny, it is important to include the revitalization of neglected and abandoned genres that is a part of today’s landscape. Today’s creators throwing together the gold, silver, bronze, iron, platinum, and the metals forgotten between the ages, churning them together, distilling their mistakes, their creative brilliance, and their pure joy to create something new. The current age of comics is pushing at the edges of what you expect, forcing us to consider what is possible, what it means to be a creator, a reader, a fan, or an admirer. It is an exciting time to be a part of the comic book industry, even only as a fan and commenter in the Age of Alloys.

We are using Masai’s music on our podcast these days because we like it, of course. There is another reason too though. His music shares one of our favorite traits; it transcends it’s perceived genre limitations.  Rap doesn’t help you deal with grief, comic books are for kids, and classical music is boring and hard to understand.

Like so much of how we interact with each other, perceive one another, and how we engage the world, our beliefs about what a specific kind of art should and can be are shaped by cultural biases. Even the creators who are aware of the prejudice and who attempt to live free from it are aware of the assumptions that drive mainstream understanding of whatever part of the world is being lensed by social norms. Some would say that the weight of these assumptions is even heavier on them.

The Vestrymen tend to love art that works to transcend its genre e expectations. The Sentry reminded us that superhero comics can deal with addiction, loss, pain, and alienation in staggeringly honest and difficult metaphors. Blankets reminds us that faith, sexuality, and intimacy can be addressed through panels and speech. Almost Home lets us know that race, grief, and humor are not the anthemia of spoken word set to beat.  The Absorbascon’s and The Astroboys humor and warmth reminds us that not all comic book bloggers and podcasters can be a positive way to talk about and promote the medium that we all love.

As artists transcend the expectations they force us to transcend ourselves. The surprise and pleasant elation that we feel when we are confronted with something better than expected mirrors the surprise that Huck Finn feels as Jim constantly upends his racial expectations.

I know artists struggle with the belief that in order to be successful they must make the art that is expected of them. I don’t think that Almost Home or The Sentry will ever sell as well as Detective Comics #18 or Who Let the Dogs Out. I can only hope that making the world a slightly better place is enough of a consolation prize for Masai and Paul Jenkins.

Whether you loved The Nightly News or you’re more of a Fantastic Four and FF reader, it’s easy to be a Jonathan Hickman fan. Personally, I’ve been enamored of Hickman’s ability to walk the line between cosmic gravitas and human interactions, and while I’m loving Matt Fraction’s current work with Reed Richards and his clan, well, it’s time to stow that shit because this is Jonathan Hickman’s birthday post, dammit! If you haven’t read Hickman’s Fantastic Four, read it. If you have read that thing already, Jonathan Hickman is working with Steve Epting on New Avengers RIGHT NOW!

Two ongoing Fantastic Four titles enter and well… looking at the readership of our blog, and the sales numbers of these books it is likely that both continue living…however “ONLY ONE BOOK LEAVES”, sounds much better don’t you think?

So I’ve been thinking, as I do sometimes, about the Fantastic Four and its related properties. I started to think of how much more I am enjoying Matt Fraction and Michael Allred’s FF than I am enjoying Matt Fraction and Mark Bagley’s Fantastic Four.

The big problem for me though, as an aspiring comic book critic, is that I cannot put my finger on why I enjoy FF more than Fantastic Four. I do have some theories, so if you are willing to sit with me while I theorize perhaps we can find the truth together.

It is possible that I am just sick of the Richard’s family. I think I’ve read the entirety of Waid’s run, I know I’ve read the entirety of Hickman’s run, and the very first Fantastic Four story I read still sticks with me, so perhaps I am just tired of the trials and tribulations of Mr. Fantastic and his clan. This proposal has a problem though, since this image still captures my inner twelve-year-old in a way that perhaps only Jonathan Hickman can.

It is possible that Fraction himself actually cares more about the FF book than its “daddy” comic. If the author is putting more effort into one of his “children” than the other then it is not surprising they they are turning into a better “person.” I would kill to write the characters that started Stan Lee’s career though, and I imagine that most modern comic fans and writers would as well. The FF is undoubtedly full of fun characters but none of them created the Silver Age of comics. I can’t really imagine giving Sue Richards anything less than my full faith and effort.

Ockham’s razor suggests a simpler solution . There is one irreducible difference between the two books. After some careful Googling I’ve decided that Michael Allred and Mark Bagley are NOT the same person. You share my shock, I am sure. To be sure Mr. Bagley’s team are doing a great job, but our failure to connect with the emotional journey in Fantastic Four #4 could be, perhaps, fairly placed at the art teams feet. Bagley’s team is doing a very passable job, but I think it is very possible that the team doesn’t have the ability to convey enough emotional range to keep up with Mr. Fraction’s scripts. It is also true that Allred’s team is cheating there, with their abstraction and sillyness, but it works, so yeah.

I believe, although I am still not sure, that the art team on FF may better match for Mr. Fraction’s writing than the art team on Fantastic Four. I have no strong convictions here, however. What do you think gentle reader? Which of these two books do you like more, and why?

We both already loved this book, but then it became clear to me that somehow, in someway Frank Cho is reading my mind. Review to follow

Leland and I do our very, very best to be impartial critics. We try and let you know what we like and why. We try and give you as much information as possible about how and why we came to the, admittedly somewhat emotional reactions to comics.

That is the thing that worries me though. All art criticism, wither the subject be“low art” or works that survive the test of time is, at least in part, about our emotional reactions to the work. There are objective ways to qualify the mechanical aspects, but great art interrogates the self as much as we interrogate it.

Listening to the podcast our friends over at Astro-boys, we are really not nearly as excited about some comics as they are. Is that because we have a more discerning palette, or more likely different tastes, or is that because we are the proverbial thin food critic?

Both Lee and I have both have this crisis of faith before. We genuinely want to put as many positive somethings out into the world as possible. We know that this medium is still young and that with growth comes creative pains. We do like things, lots and lots of things. The things we like tend to be closer to the “arts-y” end of the spectrum I suppose, so perhaps we are snobs.

You, gentle listener has, in theory, mostly due to the title I just gave you, gently listened to our podcast(s). What do you think? Are we the food critic from the beginning of Ratatouille or the fat and happy restaurateur from the end? Somewhere in between? Feel free to lie to make me feel better!

She is … pooping!

I’ve tried to think my way around it, tried to put it in cleaner content, tried to wash it down, but the simple and undeniable fact is,  if you seriously dislike the first two seasons of the original 1966 to 1969 TV show of Star Trek I can only figure it is because the show is too smart for you.

To be clear I’m not saying that you have to love every episode of the original series, that you have to love everything in the entire franchise, or even that you have love it. I’m just saying that if you watch an episode or three with an open mind you will have no choice but to admit that the show is a artistic and social technical feat, and a truly entertaining viewing experience.

Shatner and Nimoy’s performances have been lampooned, harpooned, and trampooned and it is easy to see why. These two public figures have sometimes managed great works that are hard to read execpt as self–parody. However, watch these old episodes with an open mind and you’ll see some fantastic performances. Somehow Nimoy infuses Spock’s being with logic, rigidity and a little super-dry humor. Shatner’s Kirk is so expressive, passionate and layered that it hurts, and lastly if you don’t like DeForest Kelly I seriously wonder if you know what acting is.

All that sweet, sweet acting candy acting is backed up by some of the smartest, most thoughtful, most culturally relevantscripts ever created for TV. Rodenberry and his writers explored war, racism, sex, technology, friendship, and ambition with care and flexibility and subtlety a lot of today’s writers would kill to find. It is Hollywood, so I am seriously worried that someone is going to kill one of Star Trek’s aging writers to try and steal their mojo. Don’t do it, random writer, just go back to penning another episode of Arrow.

If you can’t get behind all of that, you should at least be able to get behind TV’s first interracial kiss. Seriously Star Trek’s production team braved blackouts across the south, threats of actual violence, and threats of cancellation. That is real bravery far in excess of anything shown on camera.

There is comedy here too. Find me a silly bromance, or buddy comedy or ensemble sitcom that isn’t cribbing, to some degree, from the Spock-McCoy-Kirk one liners at the end of the episodes and I’ll give you a quarter.

This isn’t a comic book post, so I’m gonna curtail my rant a little, and just say that there is likely a 5000 word essay brewing somewhere in my brain about how  stupid you are for disliking the acting on this show.

So? You still don’t like Star Trek? I think you just don’t get it. You are either too dumb, or too closed minded to truly appriciate one of the most important works of art in The American Century.

Once a jolly swag man wished to sell some comic fonts advertised with Marvel and DC. When it became clear that this was not to be, he created an anthropomorphic hippopotamus named Hip Flask to do the job. Soon, because hippos are legit, there was a series of one-off comic books based on the character. Later, because Image Comics is almost as legit as hippos, there was an ongoing prequel series to Hip Flask called Elephantmen. Is Elephantmen the best new take on Philip K. Dick’s “Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep” since Blade Runner? We’ll leave you to form your own opinion. Cheers, Richard Starkings!