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!