10/28/14 - Moon Knight - From the Dead (Marvel)

What do I think about vigilantes, son? Well, how about we say I hate vigilantism but love a vigilante, to twist a !@#$ing phrase?

What, that's not !@#$ing good enough? Jesus, son. Make me get all !@#$ing technical, here.

Well, how about this, then: I'm !@#$ing conflicted. Vigilantes are as American as apple pie, and a !@#$ vital part of our culture. But, as the person who's got to !@#$ing oversee our nation's superheroes (and, yes, take them out on occasion), they're a big !@#$ !@#$ing pain in my !@#$.

You see, people say they love superheroes, and most of the time they do. Especially when they !@#$ing save your town, your house, your !@#$, or just get your kitty cat out of a !@#$ing tree.

But when they have to trash your town in order to !@#$ing put down a bank robber who can pick up vaults with his pinky finger? People get a little less appreciative.

Yeah, next time? Just call 911. We'll all be better off. Really.

No !@#$, son. On good days I joke that half the !@#$ing job is phone calls, the other half is logistics, and another half is public relations. But on bad days, when I got every !@#$stick politico looking for an issue, muckraking reporter in search of an expose, and maybe even the !@#$ President himself calling me to complain that Captain Wizz-Bang flattened !@#$ing Arch in St. Louis while punching it up with Dr. Fisticuffs?

Well, let's just say I don't !@#$ing feel like making jokes, son. I feel like shooting things at people. Especially Captain !@#$ing Wizz-Bang and his tendency to punch first and look where he's aiming people second. (!@#$hole.)

So if that's the kind of nightmare I have with people I can visit at 2 in the !@#$ing AM, and take to god!@#$ task for demolishing national monuments, or half of !@#$ing Denver, imagine what it's like to take the heat for people I can't.

"Badges? I don't need no stinkin' badges!"

Now, some !@#$hole wants to run around long island in his long-johns with a mask on his face and smack muggers with a a god!@#$ baseball bat? I can live with that. But when he's packing guns even the !@#$ cops can't carry? Bringing sophisticated combat machinery and technohoziwhatzits into an urban environment? Leaving crooks and human trash broken and bleeding all over the streets?

Well, theoretically I'm supposed to go visit that son of a !@#$, lock him the !@#$ down, and drag him in for a laundry list of crimes perpetrated in the pursuit of whatever they might call "justice." I'm also theoretically supposed to be having my own heroes !@#$ing watching for such people, so they can bust their !@#$es before it gets to that point. 

Theoretically.

But then I remember that one of the best, most decent heroes I ever worked with, The Owl, was a vigilante, too, technically. So were his friends and allies, some of whom were real stars in their day. And I also have to remember that the Black Card (Gods rest his soul), while he was a !@#$ing maniac butcher, was the best weapon I had against the East Coast mafia for decades.

And I have to remember that, while we're all !@#$ing wrapped up with rules, and officials, and PR, and the !@#$ing President calling to complain about having to apologize to the mayor of St. Louis, again, that sometimes we forget that it's all about taking direct action to fix a problem before it gets any worse than it already !@#$ing is.

And I have to remember that even a vigilante has a place in our orderly world. 

And I ain't !@#$ing arguing with this !@#$ sexy hunk of man.

So yeah. I get wind someone new's on the scene? I have one of my capes go pay him or her a visit, see if they're !@#$ing cracked in the head (or more cracked than usual). Tell them to mind how they !@#$ing go. Check in with them, every once in a while. Give them a number to call, be a friend, and give them a good !@#$ing example to follow.

They want to go pro? They can !@#$ing call me. But otherwise, they don't want to see me. Because that means bad !@#$ing news for everyone involved.

And that's the story, son. Technically, I !@#$ing hate it when someone takes the law into their own !@#$ hands, but yet I love the people who do.  Especially when they're so !@#$ing messed up that beating the !@#$ out of skels and crooks is the only way they can make sense of their personal situation. And while that's a major !@#$ing red flag for my line of work, it makes for some !@#$ interesting reading, to say the least.

And that's why I love people like Marc Spector, better known as Moon Knight.

Moon Knight is one of those !@#$ characters that rarely seems to get a fair !@#$ing shake. And part of that's because he's a big !@#$ bag of weird (he started out as a foil for Werewolf by Night, for !@#$'s sake). And part of it's because, given that he is a big !@#$ bag of weird, no one seems to really know what the !@#$ to do with him except (1) ignore the last series and (2) start all over again.

True, some characters and situations keep coming around, as you might !@#$ing expect. But it seems like every new creative team gets told "don't make us cancel him," so they go an entirely different direction to avoid it. Which is all well and good, at least until they stumble the !@#$ all over themselves trying to do that big !@#$ new thing, lose readers like fingers at a leper disco, and then get the book !@#$ing shut down, anyway.

Which leaves me !@#$ happy to see a new series, very hopeful this team's got the moxie to stick around for more than a couple years, and then crying big !@#$ tears every time I get the sense it's about to come crashing the !@#$ down, again.

So what do you do when you have a weird-!@#$ but interesting character that no one knows what the !@#$ to do with? You hand it over to someone who's handled him before, and has a knack for taking Marvel characters on a short, sharp, science-fictiony ride somewhere really !@#$ weird and interesting.

"Shut up and review the !@#$ing book, already, SPYGOD."

And that would be Warren Ellis, who you may remember as being the man whose 12-issue run on Thunderbolts, just after the end of Marvel's Civil War, helped define the aftermath whole !@#$ing storyline like you would not believe. Also the same man who took Secret Avengers for a spin none of us will ever !@#$ing forget, and had us !@#$ing cheering on Monica Rambeau and Aaron Stack for the first time in decades in Nextwave.

(And don't even get me started on Doom 2099, son. Just... don't. Please.)

During his run on Secret Avengers, Ellis had Moon Knight on the ticket. At times he seemed to be the resident loony (and the butt of some of Beast's techno-jokes) but he proved himself a !@#$ good member of the team. However, you kind of got the sense that Ellis wanted to do more with him? Well, here's his chance.

So this is the deal: after hanging out on the !@#$ing West Coast, supposedly with a number of other heroes in tow, but in reality just !@#$ing talking to himself, again, Marc Spector is back in the Big Apple, kicking !@#$ and taking names in a white suit. He's even got a decent working relationship with the cops, which is not something to !@#$ing sneeze at in this day and age.

But now he knows something he didn't know before, courtesy of a shrink he hired in a rare moment of lucidity. It turns out that he doesn't have dissociative identity disorder after all, and can't really be called crazy, as we understand it, which is supposedly "good news." But what it does mean is that, when he died in Egypt, all those years ago, some "otherterrestrial" entity !@#$ed with his head and gave him !@#$ing brain damage.

"Smile" the shrink tells him. Well !@#$ you, too, lady.

Needless to say, this is not good news. But it does explain a few things -- most notably, any number of people and allies he's !@#$ing hallucinated in the past. And so, armed with (possibly) accurate information, our weird and interesting hero wanders into the dark of New York City, and takes on some really !@#$ing weird and !@#$ interesting cases.

If you think I'm going to tell you exactly what he gets up to in these six issues, you are out of your !@#$ing mind. All I can say is that, if you love Warren Ellis, Moon Knight, stories of cracked urban vigilantes, or comics that are fun and creepy at the same time, you need to pick up From The Dead as soon as possible.

Why? Well, let me break it down for you, SPYGOD Style

1) Warren !@#$ing Ellis

Normally we call this "The Writing," but, as anyone knows by now, Ellis is one of those writers whose work you should snatch up on general !@#$ing principle. See his name on the cover? Pick it the !@#$ up. I can't give a higher bit of praise than that.

That said? Ellis is not perfect. He has !@#$ great ideas, but sometimes they're so great that he doesn't mind !@#$ing repeating them a few times, only with different people saying the same things. When he's on form, you don't mind so much, and when he's not, well, you feel like it's deja vu all over again.

From the Dead is very much on form, son. 

So, yes, what you will read will sound (and, yes, look) a little !@#$ familiar in places. But what he does with that familiar ground will be astounding, because these six, stand-alone stories have been honed to razor-sharp perfection.

About this sharp, in case you were !@#$ing wondering.

There's clever misdirection, here. There's little details that you miss the first !@#$ time around and then realize why they look familiar later. There's the brilliant notion of having the whole thing set up in the three panels on the title page, and only knowing what they meant when you get to the last page. And there's some really !@#$ing amazing nods to things gone by, like the resurrection of the old, Bill Sienkiewicz-era SHIELD logo for a logical use, as well as old characters from the previous series, used sparingly and well, and a villain that, unlike Moon Knight, you won't see coming from out of the dark.

In other words, this is Warren Ellis taking a fun character and having fun, and you're invited. But such a party would be incomplete without...

2) The Art

... And what a great artist combo we have here! Thanks to Declan (Deadpool) Shalvey's excellent drafting, and the well-considered color wheel of Jordie (Pretty Deadly) Bellaire, Moon Knight looks truly amazing. The work's well-grounded in a plain, noir realism that makes the deviations from the every day really stand out.

And what deviations we have, here.

Today, Moon Knight punches ghosts. Film at 11.

Some of the !@#$ they threw up at me was so stunning that I felt like I'd accidentally dosed myself with something from the bag Hunter S Thompson left behind, the last time he !@#$ing visited. And the bastard still has my !@#$ing guns, and now that he'd dead I can't shoot him for it. (!@#$hole)

But! Take that as challenge to be amazed. And while you're being amazed by the !@#$ Moon Knight gets up to, you should also take this !@#$ing opportunity to appreciate... 

3) Moon Knight, !@#$ it. 

 

You couldn't pay someone a million !@#$ing dollars and get a better synopsis of a character that has apparently baffled too many creative teams to name. Even Brian Michael Bendis couldn't do more with him than have him be a !@#$ing hero comedy with occasional bits of pathos thrown in. 

But this? This is Moon Knight the way he should be written. 

He's weird, but how much of it is an act is questionable. He's commanding, but that may also be part of the act. He's strong, but he's also all too human. He's smart, but makes some dumb-!@#$ mistakes now and again. He's cunning, but that can also backfire at times.  

And !@#$ but does he have some neat !@#$ing toys.  

And he does what he does because he has to do it, and can't get around it. A vigilante in the purest sense of the word, though his big !@#$ crusade is more about making up for all the !@#$ing red in his ledger, rather than avenging the day they killed his wife, his child, and his !@#$ yappy dog all in one go. That, coupled with the fact that an "otherterrestrial" stuck its !@#$ in his brain and took him for a big !@#$ joyride, makes Moon Knight who and what he is. 

And Ellis takes what he's given and makes it sing -- on key and really !@#$ing loud. His faceted (not fractured) personality allows him to do one issue where he uses weird !@#$ to beat down on weird !@#$, but then another one where he fights his way though less weird !@#$ in a brutal, highly-methodical fashion, and still another one where he handles some weird !@#$ in a weird but ruthless fashion, and...

"You want ruthless and brutal? I'll give you ruthless and brutal!"

Well, I'm telling too much. But yes, there are big !@#$ personality shifts at work, here. But because he's Moon Knight, they work. And because it's Warren Ellis, he makes it work.

The bad news is that, as per Ellis' tendency with Marvel, he only did these six issues, and then handed it on to another team to continue. The good news is that they're building off of what he did, and seem to be off to a good !@#$ start so far.

But even if that crashes and burns like an out of control drone shaped like a !@#$ing crescent moon, we've got this to chew on. Savor it, son. This is about as good as it !@#$ing gets.

The Verdict: Three happy thumbs up for what is, hands down, probably the best tackling of a complex character who's been sadly under-realized throughout most of his life. From the Dead's clever, brutal, and playfully dark script is coupled with masterful art, and the combination makes for a perfect (re)starting point for this vigilante. If anyone tries to spoil it - kill them with fire.

Moon Knight: From the Dead - get the Trade Paperback at your local comic store!

9/4/14 - Fury Max: My War Gone By - (Marvel)

Now, son, this may !@#$ing surprise you to no !@#$ing end, but people always tell me that I !@#$ing remind them of Nick Fury.

Sometimes, when folks say that !@#$ to me, I just smile and say that he should !@#$ing remind them of me. But that's only if I'm in a good !@#$ing mood that has not been ruined by supervillain bull!@#$, science terrorist nonsense, and an alien invasion or two.

And, as that kind of !@#$ happens to me all the god!@#$ time, I normally just smile, pistol-whip them a few times, and make them buy me !@#$ing beer until they know !@#$ing better. And sometimes I just kick them in the god!@#$ skull, dump them face-first in the nearest garbage receptacle, and hang a sign around their feet that says "Make Mine Marvel"

It could go either !@#$ing way, son. And you do not want to !@#$ing test me on that.

I mean, of all the !@#$ing nerve! Other than us both being bad!@#$ mother!@#$ers from New York City that fought in World War II, lost an eye along the !@#$ way, became sort-of immortal, run massive super-spy organizations, and like a good stiff drink now and then, can you see a god!@#$ resemblance? Really? 

Really? Well, okay then. But I just don't see it.

However, that's not because I don't !@#$ing like Colonel Nicholas J. Fury. I happen to think very highly of the man. It's just like when people can't !@#$ing tell the difference between Denzel Washington and Samuel L Mother!@#$ing Jackson, you know? It's not like we semi-immortal superspies all look alike or anything.

And speaking of respect, my admiration of the man went up a massive !@#$ing amount after reading what is, in my not so humble opinion, probably the best !@#$ Nick Fury story in !@#$ing years. And that would be Fury Max: My War Gone By, which just dropped in hardcover.

This is not the Nick Fury you remember from the old, seriously over-the-!@#$ing-top Steranko comics, or anything that has descended from that. This is the Nick Fury that showed up in the brutally delicious (and deliciously brutal) Punisher Max series that Garth Ennis did, a few years back -- an old cold warrior, weighed down by years of dark deeds done in secret, and realities too hard for all but the blackest, most resolute of souls to bear. 

Fortunately, he does have some time-honored coping mechanisms.

Fury provides the brilliant capstone to that series, and you almost get the idea that Ennis had a lot more to tell about him? Well, happy !@#$ing Christmas, son -- you got your Kwanzaa goose early, this year. Because Fury is old, run-down, and locked in a hotel room with booze, hookers, a gun, and a tape recorder, and he's wanting to !@#$ing tell all.

What's he going to talk about? Well, I'm not one to ruin the tale, but he starts off with him drinking in a bar in Indochina, just before things get really !@#$ hairy, and we meet the principal players right off the bat. There's a new, fresh-faced kid who's there to take orders from this living legend, a mysterious woman who can hold her own in fighting and conversation (and a few other things besides) and an overly-friendly Congressman who's really wanting to get Fury on board.

Fury's not sure he should trust this guy, or even the dame, and doesn't know what to make of this new kid. But as soon as he goes into the brush, and sees the kind of people the French have to call on to keep the Commies at bay, everything we think we know goes right the !@#$ out the window, and things get hardcore, morally-grey, and brutal as !@#$ really !@#$ quickly.

Of course, he survives that !@#$, and then spends the rest of the story narrating the different stops on his personal Heart of Darkness boatride -- a journey that takes him from Indochina to Central America, Vietnam to Cuba, and other, worse places, all expertly presented by Goran Parlov, who has a genius at how to illustrate this sort of a war epic. Fury meets interesting people and !@#$ing kills them. He makes the wrong friends and the right enemies. And he eventually loses everything that really !@#$ing matters, because he's too wrapped up in the bad !@#$ to know what good smells like, anymore. 

Not this, in case you were !@#$ing wondering.

I'm just going to say it, son. If you don't buy this, you are !@#$ing missing out. Why? Let me break it down for you, SPYGOD style... 

1) The Writing

Three words, son - Garth !@#$ing Ennis. As clear back as Preacher and his definitive run on Hellblazer, he's been itching to tell you war stories -- to expose the surrealism, horror, and common nobility that ensues when two or more nations send their people out to kill one another. And if you've been reading his "Battlefields" work over at Dynamite, you know what a !@#$ amazing job he does of it when he doesn't have to sneak it in. He deftly captures the blood, mud, and carnage of battle, and the heart and soul of the fighting man and woman.

(And how about his take on the Unknown Soldier? That work should be handed off to every snot-nosed Ivy League punk who wants to go work for the other Company {as opposed to my COMPANY}. It'll blow some minds, that's for !@#$ing sure.)

Well, Garth comes through in this work -- big time. This is a !@#$ epic story, right here, filled with love, loss, sex, death, betrayal, loyalty, and the horrible understanding that comes when you realize you have done the wrong things for what you thought were the right reasons, and hitched your horse to the wrong !@#$ wagon, but are now too far down the !@#$ing wrong road to ever turn back now. It's like being kicked in the face, over and over, but you can't not read it, because you know if you do you're going to miss one hell of a story. Which brings us to...

2) The Realpolitik

One of the harsh realities of life after the War was that everything we thought we knew was quickly proven wrong. Our wartime allies were now our enemies, and actively working against us, and we couldn't just drive into Moscow and take them the !@#$ over because they'd nuke us in return. So from there on out, we'd have to fight shadow battles around the world to keep it from turning red, and some of the people we'd have to rely on to "help" were incompetent, savage, criminal, or possibly even worse than the !@#$ing commies, themselves.

Fury has a great line in this book. He repeats it twice. I won't say what it is, but you'll !@#$ing know it when you see it. And I agree 100%.

And that leaves us with... 

3) The Man

There is no SHIELD as you know it, here, in the MAX Universe. No countess, no Captain America, no protective circle of top agents and near-endless supply of disposable grunts with jetpacks, rayguns, flying cars, and bull!@#$ like that. There's just a rank, a trusted subordinate, a mission, and a gun to do it with. And when you take all that !@#$ away from him, there's just a man that's seen and done too much !@#$ to square with his conscience, and the story he has to tell will probably shake you like a bag of chicken.

But that's the story, son. He gets dumped into the !@#$, time after time, and all he can call on are his wits, his fists, and his willingness to do anything to get through another day, or at least see the mission done. This is hard as nails !@#$, son: when he lives, you breathe a sigh of relief; when he wins, you cheer; and when he loses, as he so often does in the really important things, you feel like someone pulled out your heart and !@#$ in your chest.

A lot of guys have written Fury over the years. They've made him tough, they've made him sensible, they've made him comedic relief from time to time, and sometimes he's even a hero. This is one of the few times they've made him a man, and one worth !@#$ing knowing at that.

SPYGOD'S Verdict: Three thumbs up for a brutally honest look at the Cold War, and the terrible things we've had to do to survive it, all presented by a character who's rarely been this honestly-written. Garth Ennis has delivered a brilliant story, here -- one that will hopefully inform those who write Fury from here on out.

Fury Max: My War Gone By - Get the hardcover at your local comic store!