Trollheart

I wonder why?

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Trollheart: Signature-free since April 2018

The Batlord

Mark Millar is quickly becoming one of my favorite writers. The man seems to be a wizard at deconstructing superheroes, and this series is a perfect example of him at his best -- which means superheroes at their worst. In a nutshell, Ultimate Marvel was a "rebooted", alternate universe created shortly after the first Spider-Man movie in order to give new readers a chance to jump in without having to worry about almost half a century of continuity. It was kicked off with Ultimate Spider-Man, and with that title's success, the Ultimate universe was further expanded with Ultimate Fantastic Four, Ultimate X-Men, and a nearly endless amount of mini-series. One of these was The Ultimates (and the subsequent Ultimates 2 and 3), which was this universe's version of the Avengers. In this first series, the roster consists of Captain America, Ant-Man (here referred to as Giant Man), Wasp, Iron Man, the Hulk (kinda sorta), and eventually, Thor, Black Widow, Hawkeye, and Scarlet Witch and Quicksilver (kinda sorta).

I call this a deconstruction due to its in-universe cynical take on both the team and the characterizations of the individual members themselves. At first, the Ultimates are as much a publicity stunt as they are a legitimate superhero team -- most notably exemplified by the seemingly casual attitude and antics of Tony Stark, who at one point causes minor embarrassment while conducting an interview with Larry King while floating on a space shuttle in celebration of Shannon Elizabeth's birthday. They aren't even called upon to deal with any threats until halfway through the series, when the Hulk goes on a rampage in New York City, which they themselves were at least partly responsible for initiating in the first place. Eventually there is an apocalyptic alien invasion that they must stop, but for much of the series they are actually more of a liability to the world, not to mention each other.

Even more of a departure from superhero norm are the Ultimates themselves. The aforementioned Stark treats the whole thing as an adventure, though it is later revealed that his motivations are actually more altruistic than they appear at first; Giant Man (Hank Pym), and his wife, Wasp (Janet Pym), are more concerned with scientific prestige than actually saving the world; Bruce Banner causes the mid-series Hulk rampage intentionally, largely because he feels emasculated by his on-again-off-again girlfriend and the Pyms after the latter take over his position as head scientist of the Ultimate project -- although his excuse is that he was trying to give the team good press by manufacturing a threat for them to stop; it's never entirely clear whether Thor is in fact Thor, son of Odin, or just a delusional schizophrenic who believes he is... and just happens to have the powers of a Norse god; Scarlet Witch and Quicksilver aren't even really Ultimates, as they are in fact members of Magneto's terrorist Brotherhood who are only assisting the team in exchange for the release of "political prisoners".

The lowest personal depth explored by far, however, is the relationship between Hank Pym and his wife. It was already part of Marvel history that their marriage had involved physical violence, but in issue six -- which is actually titled Giant Man vs The Wasp -- this is taken to its extreme conclusion. During the battle with the Hulk, Hank Pym had been humiliated at the beginning of the altercation, putting up almost no fight. To make matters worse, there was apparently a photo in the newspapers of his wife kissing Captain America shortly after the Hulk was defeated (largely due to their combined efforts). This has all resulted in Pym feeling "small", leading to an argument with his wife which quickly escalates in intensity, until it reaches a horrifying conclusion, leaving Wasp hospitalized, after which Giant Man flees the city.





I think the aspect of this scene that really makes it disturbing to read is its ambiguity. Eventually, it clearly reaches a point where Hank's actions become unacceptable in the extreme, but until then, both parties are participating equally. This isn't a case of Hank coming home drunk and knocking around his helpless, terrified wife after she overcooks dinner; initially, the escalation is as much her doing as his, and it's made pretty obvious that this is a pattern which both participants are aware of. Janet knows what's coming, and yet she helps to perpetuate this apparent cycle all the same. That's not to say that she "deserves" what happens to her, or is even equally at fault -- Hank's attacking Janet's self-esteem over her "hygiene" as a mutant is textbook emotional abuse -- but it's hard to treat the situation in black and white when she hits him in the face with a radio.

Later revelations show that Hank taking the abuse to similar levels is nothing new however, so this is also not a case of two parties with an equally antagonistic dynamic. It's likely that Hank initiated the abuse, and Janet allowed herself to be dragged into it, eventually becoming masochistically complicit in a perpetual cycle of violence.

I find it fascinating that Millar would go this route. Morally ambiguous superheroes are nothing new, but generally not to the point of making a protagonist completely unlikable. It makes sense in a way. The kind of extreme personalities that would be drawn to this "profession" likely wouldn't be the most stable, and the realism with which this situation is depicted really brings the story down to the human level -- even though one of the characters basically turns into a pixie, and the other can grow to a height of sixty feet. This sub-plot is one of the things about this series that really makes it more than just an alternate universe Avengers.

Even Captain America isn't quite the boy scout we're all used to. Out of all of the characters he's definitely the least morally ambiguous, but he also exhibits an old world mentality that isn't entirely acceptable in modern times. After Pym disappears, Cap takes it upon himself to track him down and basically defend Wasp's honor. It's caveman-style white knighting that went out of style long ago, but it's also a subtle criticism of the kind of jackbooted, vigilante mentality that Alan Moore also attacked in Watchmen.

That said, when Captain America kicked the absolute mother****ing **** out of a sixty-foot wife beater, my inner Neanderthal couldn't help but cheer. It was Batman-level awesomeness, and I have never cared more about some guy dressed in the American flag.





Of course, there's actual superheroing... eventually. The last few issues are absolutely epic, with the Ultimates engaging in a battle with an invading alien race known as the Chitauri that makes the ending of The Avengers look like a friendly handshake. Thor uses lightning to obliterate half an alien fleet, Captain America chops some dude in half with his shield, and then the Hulk eats him... the dude who got chopped in half, not Captain America. Anybody waiting for the **** to finally hit the fan in a big way was given everything they wanted and then some. Sci fi comic book excess at its finest.

Almost everything about The Ultimates was fantastic. From the characterizations, plots, to the world building, the execution was practically flawless. The only two things off the top of my head that really bother me are A.) the absurdly convenient timing of Captain America's discovery (which was lifted almost entirely for the movie), and B.) the facial expressions. The art was otherwise phenomenal, but it had this photo quality to it that made facial expressions kind of static and lifeless at times. For the most part it's not distracting, but occasionally... not so great.

Otherwise, Millar yet again knocks one out of the park. The Ultimates has renewed my resolve to read everything he has ever done -- and I gotta get me some more Captain America while I'm at it!

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The Batlord

Missed this. Don't know enough about the ins and outs of the industry to really say, but I imagine so, just like the future of books is in Kindle and such. Much more convenient than going to a store, don't have to deal with storing physical copies, and, while comic piracy is certainly less easy than music piracy, it's still quite possible to be able to steal just about anything.

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Unknown Soldier

Wonderman was actually an important hero in the Marvel universe especially in the Avengers in the 1960s? and 1970s. He got a lot of bad rap though when he had his own comic but before that he was pretty good.

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Metal Wars

Power Metal

Pounding Decibels- A Hard and Heavy History

The Batlord

(This is why I gave up on trying to give contributor credits at the start of this journal. It's just a ****ing pain in the ass when credits change over the course of multiple issues. Anyone I missed can kiss my ass. You worked for Image Comics in the '90s, so **** off.)




For the most part, I don't listen to music when reading books, but since I don't have to expend extra mental energy in making my own mental images with comic books (besides filling in the action gaps between panels), I tend to listen to it a lot more. I don't really worry too much about what I'm listening to in general, but while reading Spawn, I had either Iced Earth or Judas Priest's Jugulator on repeat, and I think that says a lot about the series. The simplistic music, intentionally/unintentionally cheesy, overblown, yet aggressive tone of both just sync up so well that they might as well be the series' soundtrack (There's even a Spawn concept album by Iced Earth called Dark Saga).




That's pretty much Spawn in a nutshell TBH.

But I suppose I should elaborate. I neither love nor hate this series so far. The things about it that are cringeworthy (such as the art and storylines) are also charming in their own way, and while the writing isn't exactly top notch, the ideas that McFarlane is attempting to get across are still more interesting than anything else that seemed to be coming out of Image at the time (although I actually here relatively good things about Savage Dragon). I am never blown away, but I still find myself entertained in a way that is clearly down to my inner teenager's love of all things mindlessly cool, even if the subject matter in question makes my "mature", "adult" "sensibilities" roll their eyes.

Seeing as how Todd McFarlane is an artist first, and a writer... I guess he's technically a writer, the focus of this series is unsurprisingly mostly on the art: self-consciously melodramatic poses, laughably overdesigned characters, absurdly futuristic guns, etc. Sometimes, Todd even throws all of these into a single page, with dubiously glorious results...




It's hard to pick one single thing to mock here, but I'd have to give the gold medal to those skull shoulder pads and belt buckle. They look like a goth fashion victim's earrings (gender not important). I suppose the art is supposed to be "grim and gritty", but it just ends up looking like what a high school dork probably thinks looks COOL², and he justifies it by claiming that the level of detail and effort he put into his cheap, power fantasy makes it artistic or some ****.

Still, my own inner high school dork can't help but find some merit in the cool-for-the-sake-of-cool nonsense. It's not inspiring, but it's executed well enough that I can sometimes appreciate it for what it is. At least I don't find myself playing "Count the blatant, hideous mistakes in each panel" like I do with Rob Liefeld. McFarlane has some talent, if not good taste.

The main flaw with all of this however, is it's lack of mood. The try-too-hard splash pages and bright, shiny, cartoony colors kill any sense of atmosphere that such a nihilistic, horror title like this desperately needs in order to be anything more than self-indulgent pulp. The Spawn television show on HBO back in the day did a much better job building atmosphere by muting the color palette, showing Spawn's costume as little as possible, and adopting a noir style that wasn't afraid of negative space.

As far as writing goes, I will again compare McFarlane to his contemporary Rob Liefeld, as he is basically the same type of artist/creator, but with an actual ounce of talent. Both seem to be able to come up with at least half-decent ideas, but are unable to really exploit them to their full potential. For anyone who doesn't know, Spawn's entire motivation for giving his soul to the Devil (named Malebogia for some reason) after his death, is that he wants to see his wife, but he is brought back five years later, after she has remarried and had a child. There is a possibility for real depth with this plotline, but McFarlane's attempts to develop it feel two-dimensional, and don't really satisfy on any level: Spawn's emotional reactions come across as flat, the dialogue when he and his ex-wife and her new family finally meet (though he is disguised) is frustratingly clunky, and Spawn's reaction to just about every emotional trauma is to go brood in a hobo-strewn alley.

On the opposite side of the coin, you'd think that a series like this would at least be heavy on the action, and while there is certainly a decent amount of it -- and it's plenty gory when it does happen -- the story moves so slowly, and accomplishes so little for the most part, that actual action scenes seem to come out of nowhere, and so lack any real impact. They really seem to be just excuses for McFarlane to show off rather than devices to advance the plot. At least Spawn's opponents tend to be better than your average Liefeld ****turd...

At least until issues #6-#7, when a Liefeld-created villain named Overkill (RRRAAARRRGGGHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!) whose entire character seems to be defined by his ludicrously oversized shoulder pads and Deadshot-ripoff, sci-fi eyepatch. We are introduced to him while he is blowing up a building in Sicily for the mob, and then engages the army for some reason. Cause that's what the mob is all about: public battles in the middle of the day with the ****ing army in the streets. I'm sure that in no way would result in a massive crackdown on organized crime, and possibly martial law. Nope.

But, just as a crude part of my soul can't help but find some entertainment in the artwork, the thin plots and wannabe, Frank Miller grittiness make for some fun pulp. Anyone who can enjoy this seriously as McFarlane clearly meant for it to be taken, would have to be either a teenager or a moron, but if you switch off your brain for a little mindless fun, then Spawn is a surprisingly entertaining romp. I don't know how far I'm going to make it through the series, but since the next four issues were written by Alan Moore, Neil Gaiman, Dave Sim, and Frank Miller, I am expecting at least a moderately mature run, even if it is temporary.

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Black Francis

Spawn was the sh*t back in the day, he was like a teenage boy wet dream

Im sad to see they didn't give more depth in the comic books, from your review he doesn't sound that much different from the character in the spawn movie. he always seemed a little OP to me, the type of character who can pull of any super power out of his ass in a tight pinch.

um.. i gotta question.
supposedly Spawn is to lead Satan's army against God and his angels and Spawn is but one of many using that suit, do they expand on that side of the story in the comics?

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"Hey Kids you got to meet the MIGHTY PIXIES!"

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JbRbCtIgW3A

The Batlord

I'll go into this first just cause I'm starting to go into some long-winded analysis about the first half of your post. If I missed anything you were hoping I'd explain, then please tell me, as I love to ramble about this ****. Anyways...

Once every hundred years or so, the devil (called Malebolgia in the comics, to avoid pissing off the Christians too much I assume) picks a person of extra-special potential to be a new Spawn, and puts them on Earth to prove that they are worthy to serve in Hell's army. How exactly they're supposed to prove themselves is kind of nebulous (I don't know if they haven't expanded on it yet, or if it's just lazy writing). Basically, the devil ****s with the Spawns in order to push them over the edge into being evil. Or something.

One part of it is that a Spawn's powers draw from a limited power supply (which is regularly shown by a decreasing set of numbers regularly throughout the comic [which actually adds some much needed tension]), and when that is used up, the Spawn goes back to hell forever. If the Spawn chooses to not use their power (and the devil, not to mention heaven, make sure to put them in situations that will encourage the Spawns to use their powers), then they will become detached from the world, embrace their inhumanity, and become demons in soul as well as body. If they use their powers, then they eventually go to hell and become the devil's bitch anyway.

Why the latter outcome should be of any use to the devil is beyond me at this point, since the Spawn had to die and go to hell in the first place in order to make the bargain that turned them into a Spawn. So... why not just keep the Spawn in hell without sending them back to Earth at all?

I guess Malebolgia figures that letting a Spawn's free will on Earth will do more to damn them than just keeping them in hell, but why it's important to make fallen humans the highest-ranking officers of Hell's army isn't or hasn't yet been explained. Maybe it's just a **** you to God, or maybe corrupting souls to the Nth degree and then using them against God somehow gives him even greater power.

And yes, they do expand on the other Spawns from the past. There's a medieval Spawn, a cowboy Spawn, and, like... other Spawns that I'm probably just not familiar with ATM. There are also lesser Spawns who never get to go to Earth, but are just notably evil fellows who get to be Spawn-lites in the devil's army.

It's probably been the better part of two decades since I've seen the movie, so I really can't compare the two. I'd say Spawn doesn't so much not have depth, as Todd McFarlane just isn't that adept at reaching the character's potential. Like I said, he's a great idea man (kinda like George Lucas I guess) but he's not so great at actually realizing his vision all by himself.

If you want to see Spawn in all his potential glory, then watch the HBO animated series. I haven't watched it since I was in my early twenties, so it might not hold up as well as I remember, but it's definitely the best depiction of the series yet. Themes and characters that are used passingly or not explored as well as they could be in the comic, are dealt with much better in the series.

There's a sense of story progression and character development that is relatively absent from the comic, as it can go ten, or even more, issues without really doing much -- and storylines that were introduced earlier are sometimes dropped for no apparent reason, and then pop up ten or so issues later, as if McFarlane finally remembered that he'd somehow forgotten an entire subplot. The animated series is much more streamlined and focused, with more or less strong, dynamic, fleshed out storylines that maintain your interest throughout the season (although the child killer subplot of the first season drew out an OTT, two-dimensional villain's role for far too long, while he mercifully only lasted an issue or two in the comic).

I'm twenty-three issues in (for some reason I can't entirely explain), and Spawn doesn't even really seem to have any motivation besides moaning over his past. He doesn't accept the role that the devil wants for him, but he's not particularly concerned with opposing him either. All he really wants is to hang out with a bunch of hobos in an alley and be bummed out 24/7. He isn't even really committed to staying out of fights, as he'll go on a spree of violence against people who invade his turf at the drop of a hat, but then retreats back to his dirty alley to brood.

The series has much of the same alley-dwelling, hobo-buddy thing going on, but unlike the comic, where he just sort of shows up and befriends the bums right off the bat, Spawn at first resists getting close to them, which does a lot to express his sense of self-concerned isolation. He's much more resistant to playing the hero in general, so it has a lot more meaning when he finally does listen to his conscience.

Even his whole thing with his ex-wife isn't really explored to any great extent in the comics. It's a major story element early on, but after that first arc, it's much less concentrated on, which is odd, since the whole premise of the series is that Spawn sold his soul just to be reunited with his wife. But in the animated series, he basically stalks her, constantly torturing himself by reliving his past in a way that really expresses his fractured psyche.

Another element that really separates the comic and the animated series is the artwork. The comic is far too bright and colorful to have any kind of horror atmosphere, whereas the animated series uses lots and lots of shadows and noirish elements to really make it feel like you're watching a horror series.

Also, can't leave without mentioning the voice acting of the show. It's pretty excellent for the most part, and I probably wouldn't enjoy the comic half as much as I am if I didn't have Keith David's voice in my head whenever Spawn talks.

Skip the first minute to avoid a bad Disturbed song.



TL;DR: The Spawn comic is fun but nothing great, so watch the far superior animated series. And make sure you watched the uncensored version, as there is an inferior, censored version of the show.

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Black Francis

Will do, that vid has a couple of related links with full episodes, now that i know they have it on YT i'll give it a watch.

To your credit Batty, it wasn't TLR it was actually quite funny.
i didn't know he had limited power and that once he used it he had to return to hell, that implies that his time has a hero is limited, no? maybe this is why he sticks to just defending his hobo alley lol

And i think i remember seeing Cowboy spawn and hearing about his different time incarnations, though that concept seems a little gimmicky it's also an opportunity to show the personality and story of a different spawn. do they do that?

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"Hey Kids you got to meet the MIGHTY PIXIES!"

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JbRbCtIgW3A

The Batlord

At least to some extent. The aforementioned Medieval Spawn probably would have been explored even more, but there was a legal dispute that meant he couldn't be used for about a decade. Same reason Angela is now a Marvel character.

Gaiman & McFarlane Settle Suit on Medieval Spawn, Angela - Comic Book Resources

Apparently McFarlane created a knock-off Medieval Spawn to get around the court case, but he got sued for that too.

Judge Rules for Neil Gaiman Against Todd MacFarlane in Medieval Spawn Case

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LoathsomePete

Have you read the comics that are kind of at the center of the lawsuit? Marvelman (aka Miracleman)?

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