Bedtime Stories That Keep You Awake: On Through the Woods by Emily Carroll

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Welcome to October here at Deja.Revue. If you have not noticed already, I tend to be a fan of the creepy, the weird, and the left-field in comics. So I though October would be a perfect time to indulge those predilections even more than I already have. Horror, as a genre in comics, has always been just off to the side. Less flashy than superheroes, and something of a mutant child of crime comics, the genre has a breadth and depth which is, in my opinion, almost unmatched. I do not hope to cover the whole diverse range of the genre in the coming month, but I do hope to give you a survey of some of my favorite works on page and screen. If you would like to read further, Paste has an excellent list of horror comics you should read. For further reading on the history of horror comics, check out Mike Howlett’s essay in the back of this excellent horror anthology that I will not have the time or space to write about this month. If all goes according to plan, I will have a column each Monday for you, culminating, fittingly, with Halloween at the end of the month. Don’t forget to turn off the lights.

At one point or another in your life it is likely that you have crawled into your bed, or crawled out of it, and thought you heard something. Maybe it was down the hall. Maybe it was on the roof. Or maybe, just maybe, it was under your bed. Your ears begin to ring. Your pupils dilate. You concentrate on the darkness and the silence. Your feet stiffen on the cold floor or your body tightens under the warm covers. You recede into the blankets, blocking out the world – a cotton fortress of your own making. It is absurd. Whatever that something is, it can get through. It will not be fooled by your disguise. It knows you are awake. In fact, it prefers you to be awake. It prefers that you wait in the silence, in the stillness, contemplating your immanent fate.

But there is not anything there. Not really. This absence is the source of terror, for it creates a gaping vacuum which our minds set quickly to populating with all sorts of morbid, grotesque, and devilish boogeymen. For some, this wild speculation, this endless suspension in the realm of horror, can create a kind of high – one you keep chasing. This helps explains the popularity of horror films, but more elementally it explains the enduring tradition of the campfire story, the legend, the myth, of which film is merely one of the most recent modes of delivery.

Enter Emily Carroll’s beguiling graphic novel Through the Woods. Each of its brief, gothic-inflected tales is meant to put you right back in bed, under the covers, afraid to peak over the edge and see the hand reaching out from underneath. It begins much the same way I have begun this article. By remembering the bed, the darkness, and the hand creeping out, Carroll prepares the reader for what is to come and also reminds us why we get into this stuff in the first place: we are all just chasing after that same, perfect moment of childhood fear over and over.

Carroll’s tales are, I think purposefully, transitional ones. They float in that space between childhood and adulthood (the library from which I checked out the book had it filed in the Teen section): evoking nursery rhymes even as they delve into more sinister territory. Because of this, she introduces some twists and turns which, for more seasoned readers, will feel less surprising. However, the collection also drifts towards a more uncertain, unsteady version of horror. The best of the stories (“Our Neighbor’s House,” “His Face All Red”) provide no answers, and in fact, no conclusions at all. The resulting effect runs much closer to one’s core than stories that end on dramatic revelations or twists (I can almost hear the violins exploding at the end of “My Friend Janna”). None of these stories overstays their welcome. They are gothic folktales, moving at a quick clip, lingering just long enough to send a chill down your spine, or to make the hairs on your neck stand at attention.

Though these nightmares are brief, that does not mean they are unmemorable. Carroll’s art is mostly to thank for that. It is bright and blocky. It channels folk art even as it disintegrates its own borders, dripping over the edges of the loosely defined frames. It is much less a traditional comic book than it is a series of narrative paintings whose accompanying text is incorporated as completely and artfully as the characters and settings. Reds and blues are cut through with inky black and shocks of white. Everything is angled like the set of The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari. Imagine that film bursting in mad Technicolor and you will have an idea of what Carroll’s book looks like.

Like that film, Through the Woods suggests that monsters are real, but that they are often found just behind the eyes of the person sitting across from you, or just beneath the surface of the mirror you are staring into. This is how the monsters hide. And this is why we must, in the dark, when we are alone and we hear that sound again, fill the world with ugly daemons waiting just around the corner: because it keeps us from seeing the real and mundane ones.

Every Comic Book Movie (Ever): A Hulk-Sized Post: In Praise of Ang Lee’s Hulk

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Every Comic Book Movie (Ever) is an ongoing series which examines the long-standing relationship between comic books and film through individual works as well as groups of works. While it is likely impossible that a single person could write about every single comic book film ever made, the series hopes to provide insight that ranges widely across eras and styles of filmmaking – covering acknowledged classics, hidden gems, huge disasters, and relatively unknown works with an empathetic and critical eye.

 

In theory, the Hulk should be one of the easiest characters to put to screen. He is Frankenstein and his monster. He is Jekyll and Hyde. He is King Kong. The Hulk is gothic horror retold for the nuclear era. In fact, in his first comic appearance, he is betrayed by his assistant Igor (who turns out to be a Soviet spy) while testing his breakthrough, the G-bomb. The literary and cinematic family from which the Hulk descends is rich and ripe for constant reinterpretation. It is a deep well. So it makes sense that he has been depicted many times since his creation.

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In the hands of the creative team at CBS in the 70s and 80s, the Hulk became a lonely drifter, whose curse cuts him off from close human relationships, but allows him to do some limited good in the world. The TV series deserves a much longer column, and will hopefully get one in the future, but what makes it successful is the way in which it explores Banner/Hulk as a psychological construction as much as a biological one. The Hulk comics have always had a gnarled psychological undertone, but the show’s modus operandi was to explore that, taking the subtext of a flashy comic book and elevating it. This is a practical decision, on the one hand, as television budget and time constrictions made it impossible to, week after week, mount huge, expensive action sequences. But character studies also make for effective television. Instead of upping the spectacle with each episode, a game you cannot win, what the show chose to do was dive deeper and deeper into Banner’s relationship with himself. By giving him a lifestyle (that of a drifter) which lends itself to episodic exploits, the creators were able to deliver discrete adventures each week while making the complexities of the Banner/Hulk dichotomy the long arc of the show.

There is also the matter of how they portrayed the Hulk visually. With limited options, they chose to cast another actor (the truly hulking Lou Ferrigno) and paint him green. The psychological duality of Banner (played with agony by Bill Bixby) and the Hulk is manifested physically by the performances of the two actors. In addition to this, the show offered an equally complicated antagonist in the form of journalist Jack McGee, who is always hot on Banner’s heels, obsessed with proving the existence of the Hulk in order to advance his career. This obsession mirrors Banner’s own scientific obsession which turned him into the Hulk in the first place. The show works because of its intense focus on the characters’ states of mind. The rampages of the Hulk merely serve to spice the thing up a bit. A similar approach would be taken when the Hulk was finally portrayed on film.

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It is possible that, due to the fevered pace at which superhero films have been put out in the intervening years, you have forgotten that 2003’s Hulk even exists. It was a different time in the world of superhero films. After a decade which saw the rise (in the hands of Tim Burton) and fall (at the hands of Joel Schumacher) of Batman at the box office, studios were still laying low. However, the success of Fox’s X-Men in 2000 and Sony’s Spider-Man in 2002 had studios reconsidering the potentially lucrative comic book properties which they owned the rights to. So before WB gave Christopher Nolan the wheel on Batman, and when the Marvel Cinematic Universe was merely a dollar sign twinkle in Kevin Feige’s eye, Universal Studios (along with Feige, Avi Arad, and Marvel) tapped Ang Lee to helm the first big-screen iteration of the character.

Thirteen years later, Ang Lee remains the most interesting directorial choice for a comic book franchise. He does not at all seem a natural fit for the material (unlike say, Nolan, whose noir sensibility fits Gotham). Aside from, perhaps, Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, there is nothing to suggest a turn heading a comic book tent pole in Lee’s filmography, which is mostly made up of beautifully shot dramas. And unlike more recent indie/art house promotions, Lee’s career was both established and praised, so the studio had less leverage in shaping the final film. The trade-off was that Lee’s experienced hand could guide the film competently to completion. The development of the film had started in 1990, and I won’t delve too deeply into its history here, but over the course of the decade, several directors and screenwriters worked on the film and millions of dollars were spent in development. The studio needed a veteran hand, so Lee and frequent collaborator James Schamus were left to sort through the material and make a film of it.

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Lee and Schamus take an even more thoughtful and staid approach to the material than the TV series. The film takes its time developing and revealing Bruce Banner’s backstory, the lynchpin of which is his complicated relation to his long-disappeared father, whose experiments on himself are inherited by Bruce. Bruce’s own research in the same field leads to the accident which causes his transformation. The film’s take on the origin story adds a thick layer of family drama over the b-movie science. Betty Ross, who leads the research into gamma radiation along with Bruce, also has a complicated and cold relationship with her father, Gen. Thaddeus “Thunderbolt” Ross, who shut down Bruce’s father’s research and is highly suspicious of Bruce. Complicating matters further, Bruce and Betty allude to a failed romantic partnership in the past. The tension between all of these characters is further heightened by the arrival of Maj. Glenn Talbot, a military sub-contractor interested in appropriating Bruce and Betty’s research for military use. In addition to this, a mysterious new janitor is employed in the lab, skulking around gruffly. It turns out that he is Bruce’s father, returning to finish the work he began.

All of this is hard to keep track of in print, but the film does a commendable job of balancing the melodrama and the science which make up its first half. As the pace begins to quicken and conflicts come to a head, the slower development of the first hour proves its value. We care about these characters and have at least a basic understanding of their motivations, whether simple or complex.

And some are fairly simple. Talbot is transparent from the beginning: he’s in this for the money. He doesn’t care about anyone but himself. The character would be unnecessary and boring if it weren’t for Josh Lucas’s scenery-chewing performance (he excels at playing these sorts of characters). Talbot is the furthest removed from the Banner/Ross drama, with motives separate and unrelated to the history the two families share. But he serves a purpose in the plot, first as Gen. Ross’s henchman, then going behind his back to take control of research on the imprisoned Banner.

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Betty’s characterization is a bit thin as well. The specifics of her sour relationship with her father are left untouched. This is a shame because vacillation between distance and needing access to her father for help is well played by Jennifer Connelly, whose performance is intelligent and low-key. When the fact of her actions seems incongruous with the qualities of her character, Connelly sells them carefully. For what is essentially a Fey Rey role, Betty is filled out by the compassion that Connelly exudes. In fact, aside from a scene where they walk through the ruins of the town they (unwittingly) grew up in, the most affecting scenes between Betty and Bruce are when he is transformed. If Belle were not the protagonist of Beauty and the Beast, it might look something like this. And while her father is not exactly a complicated man, his priorities of safety, and the revelation of his past dealings with Banner the elder, make his motivations understandable, if a bit straightforward. He wants his daughter safe. He wants to keep his job. He wants to finish what he started.

The emotional and psychological core of the film is the oedipal conflict between Bruce and his father, David. The reason Bruce continues to transform all comes down to his father – both the emotional and physical damage caused by the man are a large part of what makes Bruce the Hulk. The revelation, late in the film, that what Bruce had been blocking, what was behind the closed door in his nightmares, was his father charging out to murder him in a fit of twisted compassion and, instead, killing Bruce’s mother by accident, is what allows Bruce to begin to face his demons, both physical and emotional. The last memory of the woman, dying on the desert floor, reaching out toward a green mushroom cloud on the horizon, is a source of trauma for both of these men.

Eric Bana’s performance is noticeably restrained, even wooden. While the performance doesn’t exactly light up the screen, it does track with Bruce’s psychology. The Hulk becomes a metaphor for Bruce’s repressed feelings – rage, passion, love, sadness. While Bruce remains closed-off, the Hulk is both gentle and fiercely protective of Betty when David sends mutant, radiated dogs to test his son’s abilities. In a lovely moment during the climactic sequence of the film, the Hulk leaps far into the desert, away from pursuing helicopters and sits, cross-legged on the ground. It is a contemplation which Banner cannot achieve in his normal life. Betty’s reasonable assessment of Banner as “emotionally distant” is why the romantic pair can’t make things work before the accident. But afterwards, where others see a dangerous monster, Betty sees the messy humanity that Bruce has been trying to hide, it just so happens to be contained in the body of an eighteen foot, bright green lab accident.

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While Bruce sees these past events as a curse to match his monstrous transformation, David uses them as fuel for his revenge against those who ruined his life, Gen. Ross being chief among them. Unsurprisingly, Nick Nolte has the most memorable performance in the entire film. As David Banner, he channels all the anxiety and madness of a protective father and mad scientist. Unleashing mutant dogs, stalking his son at his work place, springing on him the revelation of his parenthood without so much as a hello – all the good dad stuff. Although he is clearly warped and lacking perspective, there is a tragedy to his character. Nolte’s wild hair, grizzled beard, and rumpled jacket hide a broken man, looking to atone for his past sins and punish those who orchestrated his tragedy. David is unhinged, but the madness has a method, and so he replicates the accident which created the Hulk in order to “cure” himself and set about on his revenge.

The key to his plan is that he turns himself in, the only condition being that he see his son one last time. And while the plot machinery that brings them together is a bit convoluted, the operatic scene that it leads to more than makes up for that. David emerges from the darkness and sits across from Bruce, blackness all behind them, and two huge suppressive on either side (this is one of those great moments where science fiction can give physicality to mental states).

Bruce is the first to speak: “I should have killed you.”

David responds: “And I should’ve killed you.”

Bruce breaks down over his mother’s death, David moves in to console him, but Bruce rejects him, telling him that he isn’t his father. David chuckles, “I’ve got news for you.” In David’s mind, Bruce’s true being is made manifest in the Hulk, and David is the sole creator of the Hulk. He is more than a father, he is a god. Bruce is “nothing but a superficial shell” concealing his “true” son underneath. Nolte’s monologue here is Shakespearian. The drama, Greek. The madness and tragedy of David is unleashed in the way Nolte slowly loosens up, voice growing louder, arms flailing. His voice breaks with sadness, then with anger. It is theatre. It is musical, his voice rises and falls as if he is reciting poetry. It echoes in the black space. He is possessed by power and self-righteousness. His vision is mythic and apocalyptic. Bruce screams it to a stop. David collapses in his chair, play-acting a tantrum to mock Bruce. “Stop your bawling,” he says, before sucking his teeth and impishly glancing around, as if to ask, “is it time to begin now?,” before biting into the thick electrical wires draped on the floor.

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The result of this scene is that David absorbs the energy from the surrounding city, becoming a hulking figure of pure electricity (literalizing the electric performance of Nolte in this scene). With no other choice, Bruce gives in, and becomes the Hulk. David takes him for a ride through the sky in what is the most beautiful and painterly scene in any superhero film. David flashes like lightning, like Zeus, in the sky, illuminating in stabs his son and he, absorbed in battle. The alternating light and murky darkness of the scene frames each of them in still poses. Without the limitation of movement, the CGI here is emotional, physical, primordial, and mythic. The final conflict ends with the two of them blasted by the technology they helped create. David and Bruce disappear. While we are left to wonder about the fate of the father, we catch a glimpse of the son, deep in the rainforests of South America, helping people, a man-on-the-run in the tradition of the TV series.

The film does not always achieve these visual heights however. Lee films the lab spaces and character interactions (especially early in the film) in a kind of ambient light which gives everything a drab aspect. The lighting becomes more dramatic as the film goes on, but the camera work remains mostly traditional. Except for one distinctive feature: Lee attempts to adapt comic book paneling to the screen. Sometimes it is successful in establishing the space, or defining characters’ relationships to each other, but mostly it is gimmicky and distracting. In the best scenes of the film, Lee resorts to this tactic only briefly, and these scenes are noticeably diminished for it. The different ways in which he organizes panels and swipes is completely arbitrary, violating the cinematic language of the film, and ignoring the kind of sense these framings bring to comics. The only purpose they seem to serve is in reminding us that we are watching a film based on a comic book.

The CGI of the Hulk has not aged particularly well, but this is mitigated by two important factors. First, Lee is a good director, and he knows when to bring out the monster. As a result, the Hulk is only onscreen for about 15 minutes of the 2+ hours of runtime. The scenes in which he appears are spread out fairly evenly besides the last act of the film, so it feels like he appears more. On top of this, Lee uses practical effects as much as possible. While the Hulk himself is obviously digital, Lee blows out windows, flips cars, busts plaster, breaks walls, and does everything he can to give actors real, physical destruction to respond to in these scenes. The Hulk looks removed when he is standing still, but when he moves, the world around him responds naturally.

The film is, at worst, a fascinating failure, in which the disparate parts do not quite coalesce into a coherent whole. But I think the film makes daring choices that, for the most part, pay off. Visually it has lows and highs, but the highs are staggering. By pushing the characters to the forefront, Lee makes sure the film centers around a relational, human conflict, rather than a set of world ending jargon. Nolte’s performance is a huge part of this and it would not surprise me at all if Heath Ledger had studied the sci-fi Freudian couch scene that precedes the final battle in preparing to play the Joker. Unfortunately, the mixed reception of the film, its less than impressive box office, and the onslaught of comic book adaptions we’ve been hit with since have buried the film’s exceptional qualities.

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After Hulk failed to perform as well as Universal would have liked, Marvel Studios reclaimed the rights to the character (though not to stand-alone features, as the 2008 film is still a Universal production) and set about making, I believe, the first superhero reboot. Bringing Edward Norton in to play Banner, The Incredible Hulk came out just a little over a month after Iron Man and solidified the arrival of the Marvel Cinematic Universe. Despite being named after the television show (and borrowing the flourish of Banner as a man-on-the-run), the film flattens the complexities of the series. As a reaction to Lee’s interpretation of the character, both the film’s psychology and biology are simplified. Where before, Banner was driven by rage (the TV series) or repressed trauma (Hulk), here the explanation is as simple as a set number of heartbeats in a minute. In this iteration of the character, anything can set him off so long as it elevates his heart rate. The transformation loses its tie to Banner’s state of mind and becomes something like an allergic reaction. An uncontrollable byproduct. Indeed, Banner is something of an unfortunate byproduct himself as his origin in the MCU is tied (isn’t everything?) to the super soldier program. Instead of spending time developing Banner, the film opts for CGI fireworks (the lack of these being a primary criticism of Lee’s film) which fail to thrill in the same way as Lee’s animated conflicts because they are devoid of his thoughtful character and psychological work, which serve to imbue the conflicts with drama both personal and relational.

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In all of the other MCU films in which he appears, Banner is portrayed by Mark Ruffalo who, with what little time he is given to explore the character, comes close to the kind of tortured but mild-mannered scientist that Bixby portrayed in the TV series. The Hulk, since the 2008 film, has been settled as a sort of tragi-comic supporting character, complementing the feather-light tone that most of the MCU films have while acknowledging the gravity of the character’s background and predicament. Age of Ultron attempted to advance the character forward through a romantic relationship with Black Widow. But ultimately, the film casts Hulk out into space, which is fitting way to describe what marvel has done with him the past 8 years (and, seemingly, into the future, as he does not look to be getting a stand-alone film anytime soon) through their inability to properly or even interestingly render one of the great movie monsters.

This is what, I think, makes Lee’s adaption so interesting and (dare I say) essential: he had an understanding of the Hulk as both monster and myth. He stripped it down to the bone and built up his story around it. Comic books are fairy tales obscured by cartoons and thought balloons. They tap into the same place as all the old myths do. They are filled with tragedy, comedy, and passion. They are ancient and archetypal in their construction and work best when treated as such, rather than pop escapism or self-serious video-games, hiding behind posturing edginess. If there is a way forward for superhero films as vital cinematic art, it is in finding artists with this kind of insight and allowing them to make good movies free of studio, or fan, interference.

 

-Ian

The Fleischer Bros. Superman Shorts (1941-1943)

Every Comic Book Movie (Ever) is an ongoing series which examines the long-standing relationship between comic books and film through individual works as well as groups of works. While it is likely impossible that a single person could write about every single comic book film ever made, the series hopes to provide insight that ranges widely across eras and styles of filmmaking – covering acknowledged classics, hidden gems, huge disasters, and relatively unknown works with an empathetic and critical eye.

 

This being the first installment of the series, I thought I would write about a film (well, a group of short films) that is both a personal favorite, and something of an unimpeachable classic. Hence, the Fleischer Bros. Superman Shorts.

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Fleischer Studios Logo

Max and Dave Fleischer began making shorts in the late nineteen-teens after Max Fleischer invented, patented, and sold the rotoscope. Starting work at Bray Studios, they eventually created their own studio (Fleischer Bros., Inc.) where they would go on to create original characters like Betty Boop and define pre-existing comic book characters like Popeye and, you guessed it, Superman. Without going too deep into the history, the Fleischers were, for a time, considered

the only real rival to Walt Disney’s animation dominance. In fact, the rotoscoping technique created by Max was used by Disney to make Snow White and the Seven Dwarves. Unfortunately, the studio was plagued by financial troubles and, by the time Superman was being produced, was mostly owned and run by Paramount.

Despite this, Max and Dave were still heavily involved with Superman. They had just come off their first feature, Gulliver’s Travels, and were working on their second when Paramount, hoping to adapt the extremely popular at the time Superman, approached the Fleischers about bringing the character to life. They weren’t interested. But instead of saying no, the brothers told Paramount they could only make Superman for roughly ten times the amount of their previous shorts, expecting Paramount to balk and leave them in peace. Instead, Paramount negotiated an agreement for roughly half that much and Superman went into production as one of the most expensive animated shorts of that time.

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The Fleischer’s Man of Steel

The expense shows. Few animated films, from that time or any other, look as dynamic and lavish as the shorts the Fleischers produced. The first (titled “Superman,” but usually referred to as “The Mad Scientist”) pits Superman against what would become a common enemy in these shorts: a rogue scientist using advanced technology for nefarious means. The short introduces a number of iconic elements, beginning with a brief prologue explaining Superman’s origins and the classic invocation: “Faster than a speeding bullet. More powerful than a locomotive. Able to leap tall buildings in a single bound.” The story begins when Lois Lane sets out to track down a man who has been sending mysterious threats to Metropolis. She takes a plane to a towering, gothic mountain atop which sits the scientist’s laboratory. He promptly captures Lois (with the help of his henchman, a ruffled vulture/raven hybrid) and begins attacking the city with a massive death ray. As the destruction of the city begins, Clark Kent slips into a supply closet and, as the iconic score plays, rips of his tie and hat to reveal his identity as Superman. He begins his battle with the death ray, swooping (not quite flying) through the city, saving citizens and preserving the Daily Planet building as it arcs elegantly and destructively toward the ground.

In the end, he rescues Lois (and, importantly, the evil scientist) from the destruction of the death ray and the laboratory. Lois writes a front page column and Superman disappears into the ether until the next crisis. Meanwhile, Lois asks Clark where he was the whole time.

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Lois and Clark, after the crisis

The shorts all follow this same basic formula, the first four especially. Lois jumps right into the thick of it, Superman is nearly defeated, but overcomes the villain, rescuing everyone in the end. It establishes a template familiar from the comics while adding a few of its own signature elements. One of those is the reliance on music to tell the story. There is little spoken dialogue in the Fleischer shorts, so the music does a lot of the heavy lifting. It helps to tell the story, creating drama and tension, while also serving as an all-purpose source for sound effects. When Superman punches the bullets from the death ray, the music turns to sharp stabs in unison with Superman’s powerful fists. The shorts alternate between heavy sci-fi plots where mad scientists or monsters are unleashed on the city and lighter sci-fi fair, where criminals use slick, new technology to rob trains and vaults.

What is most striking about these shorts, to me, is their audacity of design. They dwell in a kind of retro-futurism where contemporary architecture and automobiles exists alongside impossibly tall buildings, high mountain labs, and enclosed crosswalks which stretch from building to building somewhere around the 95th floor. The lines recall both art deco and early Soviet propaganda, while the lighting draws from noir; everything is rendered in gothic proportions. The Fleischer’s Metropolis and Fritz Lang’s Metropolis do not dwell far apart from each other. This is perhaps the most enduring influence of these shorts. Bruce Timm consulted them in designing the Gotham of Batman: The Animated Series; Brad Bird looked to them when building The Iron Giant; Hayao Miyazaki stole more than a few tricks from the Fleischers for Castle in the Sky and other films.

The Fleischer’s Metropolis Bruce Timm’s Gotham

In later Fleischer shorts (like The Bulleteers), the formula modulates slightly, moving into to a light serialization. Lois and Clarks relationship noticeably progresses at the end of each short, but the action is still the meat of these. Clark and Lois travel to a volcano where Superman saves everyone from an eruption. They travel to a carnival where he saves them from a giant gorilla. But by this point, a year into the Superman shorts, Max and Dave were no longer on speaking terms and Paramount was worried.

Dola Gang from Miyazaki’s Castle in the Sky Bulleteers from Superman

After Terror on the Midway, Paramount dissolved Fleischer Studios and reorganized its few remaining elements as Famous Studios. They continued to make Superman shorts, but these were markedly different than what came before. It was the end of 1942 and the U.S. was on the war path. The Japanese had bombed Pearl Harbor almost a year earlier and every movie studio in the country was playing their part in the escalating war effort. Paramount and Famous Studios were no exception. The rest of the Superman shorts serve as pretty standard fair propaganda. The animation quality drops noticeably with the absence of the Fleischers and the plots are clunky, often involving saboteurs and peddling nasty racial stereotypes of the Japanese. The Superman of Famous Studios is the ultimate warrior of U.S. interests abroad. Trapped in Japan with Lois, Clark sneaks out at night to wreak havoc on the Japanese war effort. He destroys bridges and air bases and battleships. Where Superman used to rescue his adversaries, here he destroys them when they aren’t looking. A night watchmen on a ship undoubtedly dies when Superman pulls the vessel underwater until it explodes. The same fate is met by countless soldiers crossing a bridge at night when Superman annihilates it.

Still, these do not impinge on the revolutionary, earlier shorts of the Fleischers, which still stand today as one of the great achievements of not only animation, but filmmaking itself. With their dynamic and singular animation style, the Fleischer Bros. Superman shorts remain one of, if not the definitive comic-book adaptation.

 

-Ian

Half Year Top 10 List

Hello Revuers! It’s hard to believe that June is upon us! With that the first six months of 2015 are behind us. So now its time to take a look back at our favorite series’ so far. To do so I have once again enlisted the aide of some of my friends! Some headings are clickable so feel free to check out the contributors blogs, they all do an excellent job.

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The last 6 months have brought a plethora of exciting changes in the big two, and some interesting new series from the Indie side of things. In this list I’ll be breaking down my ten favorite so far:

10. Spidergwen (Marvel)

This would have made it higher on the list if it weren’t for Secret Wars. The first two issues were great, and then it felt like they had to rush what they wanted to do and cut things out. Leaving the last few issues feeling a little hollow. I do love the creative team on this (Jason Latour is a fantastic writer and a true professional, Robbi and Rico combine to make beautiful art), and I am excited for what they have in store for post Secret Wars Gwen.

9. Groot (Marvel)

Fantastic start to a series that has great promise. I am glad it exists in a bubble outside of the events of Secret Wars. Groot is down right adorable, and his (her?) facial expressions really steal the show. I cant wait to see what new hi-jinx will befall Groot in the future.

8. Silver Surfer (Marvel)

Enough can never be said about the fantastic art by the Allreds on this series. They truly take it from being a good comic to being a great comic. That being said this series is also suffering from the events of Secret Wars. The last two or three issues have felt a bit stagnate as if they are just filling time until Hickmans saga comes to a close. It still makes it to this spot on the list, but only because its so dang pretty to look at.

7. Thor (Marvel)

When I first heard there was going to be a female Thor I was excited! I had never been able to get into Thor before because it felt (either justly or unjustly on my part) to me like he was a big brute with a hammer that liked to smash things. Having a change really felt fresh and seemed to open up a whole other dimension for the character. I am happy to report that I was correct. female Thor is one of my favorite major changes to the status quo of all time! Jason Aaron also did a great job of completing a whole arc before Secret Wars began, managing to avoid the pit fall of a couple sires before this one on this list. The art has improved from the first few issues, making this title one of the most well rounded on this list.

6. Secret Wars (Marvel)

Hickmans Avengers and New Avengers saga finally comes to a head. The multiverse is dead and now all that remains is batteworld!!! At the helm is the Lord God Doom. Overall this is a fun event with interesting religious themes peppered through out. Its fun to see different heroes in new ways. The premise is exciting and it feels very well planned out. I am convinces Hickman is a mad genius or exists in a higher plane of sentience than I do.

5. Descender (Image)

Finally we move away from Marvel for number five on this list. Descender is a tale of a futuristic society that has sustained an attack by giant androids. It then scrambles to figure out where they came from and how to defend themselves. The answers lie with a rejected scientist and a small Android boy named Tim. This title feels much like a book that could have been written by Phillip Dick, or George Orwell, or some combination of the two. Its exciting and I cant wait to see what Lemire thinks Androids dream of.

4. Southern Cross (Image)

This is the first title on this list to feature the word Southern in it. This is another Sci-fi adventure, set on a ship. Southern Cross is a bit of a genre blender melding some horror aspects in to the sci-fi story. Personally I love it. I think the setting of a ship in transit lends itself well to a horror element. Through the first 5 issues we are left with more questions than answered questions, with each new issue opening it’s own can of worms. The art is phenomenal and adds a whole other element the the book.

3. Gotham Academy (DC)

The first and only DC title to make my list. It had a bit of a break during DCs Convergence event and just started up again. Still the story telling alone is worthy of the number 3 spot on this list. Cloonan and Fletcher take a rag tag group of kids and turn them into lovable characters that you genuinely feel a connection to (esp. maps). The art is excellent as well, with a heavy digital design and a slight manga influence. the next arc looks to be just as good if not better than the last.

2. The Wicked and the Divine

I really struggled with the top two. Which is funny because the couldn’t be less similar. TWTD is, on the surface, a story of Gods and men and the interactions between them. Beneath the surface it is a cunning social commentary of the way people treat Pop Stars and the emotional repercussions the “Gods” and the “common folk” alike. The art is beyond anything I’ve ever seen. The team of McKelvie and Wilson consistently bring innovative designs and fresh panel work. The coloring is an art in and of it’s self. If you took any of the elements by themselves (story telling, art, colors) they would be fantastic, but this is one case where the whole is greater than the sum of its parts.

1. Southern Bastards

Jason Aaron and Jason Latour have crafted a masterpiece. Its that simple. They consistently toy with the emotions of the reader and in that regard show us that living is a messy thing and hardly anything is as simple as it appears. Except Ribs.

Again, Jason Aaron and Jason Latour have created a masterpiece.

Jaythreadbear

Hasty scribbler on comics and culture // My top ten of the year so far:

Batgirl

The reinvention of Barbara Gordon by the creative team of Brendan Fletcher, Cameron Stewart, and Babs Tarr, is one of the real success stories at DC in recent years. The setting, character, and stories have all been revamped, replaced, or refined and it is much the better for it. Barbara now operates in a world of apps, social media, and public perception, areas that the rest of the Bat-family (and most superhero books) have yet to engage with, and the smart takes on contemporary culture mesh perfectly with the witty and aware writing that permeates the book. Plus Tarr’s art is wonderful.

Bitch Planet

Kelly Sue DeConnick has been writing many great titles recently, but perhaps the best is Bitch Planet. Taking sexploitation and pulp scifi B-movie tropes and reworking them into a powerful feminist message this book is intensely character driven at the same time as developing an intriguing and sophisticated setting and ever so compelling plot.

Elektra

This globe-trotting martial arts extravaganza from writer Hayden Blackman and artist Mike Del Mundo came to a close earlier this year, but it warrants a mention here due to its genuine brilliance. The writing was tight and inventive, the characterisation was rich and deep, and the art was truly sublime. If you didn’t have a chance to read this when it was coming out then it is well worth picking up in trade; if you like ninjas, beautiful page layouts, ninjas, creative storytelling, or ninjas then you won’t be disappointed.

Gotham Academy

The ‘young Gotham’ sub-brand at DC (that also includes Batgirl and the newly launched Black Canary) is where the best DC titles are coming from right now. Inventing a Hogwarts-esque prep school for the children of Gotham’s high society has paid off with spooky stories, exciting mysteries, and teen drama. This book may be aimed at the YA audience, but the knowing writing from Becky Cloonan and Brendan Fletcher, and the lovely art from Karl Kerschl, make this a rewarding read for everyone else too. It’s fresh and fun and different.

Secret Wars

Several years in the making and coming after a fatiguing run of self-destructive Marvel summer event books it has been a very pleasant surprise to find that this mini-series is actually really good. The Marvel multi-verse has been reshaped with different versions of many classic heroes and stories all existing together on a single patchwork planet under the rule of god himself, Victor Von Doom. As the tie in books (many of which are also great) continue to explore the alternate versions of our heroes the core book has been expertly telling a character driven drama about an impending political upheaval. If you want bombastic universe wide storytelling with every Marvel hero in the mix then this is a very good option.

Silk

Much like Batgirl this book has a playful contemporary tone, a kick-ass yet nuanced leading woman, and accessibly delightful art from Stacey Lee. Cindy Moon is an interesting new character in the Spider-family having arrived on the scene in the Spider-Verse event, and she is characterised in the sassy yet vulnerable mold of classic Peter Parker. The core narrative has played with deep issues like abandonment and post-traumatic stress whilst keeping the fast paced hi-jinks coming. There have been a few bumps in the road (including some underwhelming fill-in art) but the central mystery of the book and Cindy herself keep this a compelling read.

Silver Surfer

It feels like I’m constantly talking up how surprising this book has been, but it is worthy of the praise. The pitch, and indeed opening arc, was one of goofy inconsequential science fiction fun with the Surfer and his new pal Dawn, and whilst this book has certainly delivered on the goofy and the fun it has been anything but inconsequential. The story has taken on a wonderfully romantic slant as the Surfer and Dawn have grown to know each other, and this has been followed by some tender, tragic, and touching stuff as the Surfer’s past has caught up with him. The art is tremendous and the story telling is top notch – this is an inventive and rewarding book that I never expected.

Spider-Gwen

This book started strong, very strong, and although the art and colouring remains stunning the central arc has become a little bit directionless. That’s not to say this isn’t worth picking up, in fact it remains a brilliant reinvention of the Spider-Man universe with some great characters in play; Gwen in particular (unsurprisingly) is an exciting and refreshing lead.

They’re Not Like Us

This indie title takes the cliche of many superhero origin stories and uses it to delve into the darker corners of human insecurity. Syd discovers, in the middle of a suicide attempt, that her mental condition is actually a powerful gift, and that there are others like her with whom she can be safe, train, and take action in the world. But rather than use their powers to protect the people that hate and fear them this group are intent on taking what they want and punishing anyone they thing deserves it. This is such an intense, thoughtful, and beautifully drawn book that it might be my favourite of the year; the questions it raises are universal, and the rare answers it offers are ambiguous, complex, and challenging.

All-New X-Men #37

And I’ll finish with a contentious possibly rule breaking choice – I’m not that interested in Brian Michael Bendis’ lukewarm All-New X-Men run, but this one issue was simply so sublime that it stands alone as one of the best books of the year to date. Featuring stunning art and page layouts from Mike Del Mundo, perfect colour work again from Del Mundo working with Marco D’Alfonso, and some career high writing from Bendis this issue tells a very small story exceptionally well. Featuring a cast stripped back to essentially just young Jean Grey and Emma Frost Bendis is still able to work in witty dialogue, subtle character development, intense action, and a positive moral message. This issue does everything right, and for my money it is easily worth 6 issues of many other books

The Burning Blogger of Bedlam

Spiderwoman

As a long-time Jessica Drew fan (she’s one of my favorite characters),

I was excited as hell for her to have her own, fresh solo title. I

haven’t been disappointed. The first few issues of the Spiderwoman

series have been highly enjoyable, packed with humour and that famous

Jessica Drew wit, good character dynamics, some really well written

cameos (Carol Danvers, Steve Rogers, Silk, Spiderman, Spider-Gwen),

and particularly in Spiderwoman #1 some fascinating settings brought

to life by terrific art and absorbing colours.

Silk

In Cindy Moon we have a really rich new character with a substantial

backstory, a well-developed emotional core and a witty repetoire, all

of which makes her both interesting enough and likeable enough to

carry her own series. The first couple of issues of this series, while

not overly elaborate (I’m guessing after ‘Spider-Verse’, no one really

wants ‘overly elaborate’ anyway), do a nice, neat job of establishing

her on her own and getting us into her head-space. This series has a

really vintage sort of feel to it, in the art and in the internal

monologue among other thigs, and Silk comes across as the real female

Spiderman. Addictive.

Uncanny Avengers

Rebooted somewhat after the ‘Axis’ event, I’ve been surprised by how

awesoem this series is so far. For starters, the art is fantastic,

feeling somewhat unique among Marvel titles in its style. But the

character dynamics are interesting too; Rogue is still by far the best

thing in it (making up somewhat for the majorly dull Sam Wilson), but

the still ‘inverted’ (as in good) Sabertooth adds something new to the

mix (even if he is being turned into essentially the new Wolverine),

and Vision is always a top-draw character to focus page-space on. On

top of that, Counter-Earth and the High Evolutionary are more than

adequate settings and themes to return to. Hell, it’s even made Wanda

and Pietro Maximoff enjoyable to read again.

Darth Vader

As psychological subjects for a comic-book go, they don’t come much

richer than the Dark Lord of the Sith, Darth Vader… or the Artist

Formerly Known as Anakin Skywalker. While other characters might be

the most loveable, the coolest, the funniest or the niftiest, Vader is

undeniably the most psychologically complex. He is therefore almsot

the perfect fictional legend to base a comic-book series around, and

this series so far has been suitably compelling.

Star Wars

I told myself that I wasn’t even going to read any of these Star Wars

comics, as I didn’t want to mix two of my loves – Star Wars and Marvel

Comics. But I was kidding myself, because once I saw those covers, I

was drawn like a moth to the light. Set immediately after A New Hope,

this main Star Wars series is just impossible not to get addicted to.

While it offers nothing revelatory, the style and tone is just spot-on

and the story is filling in the gap between A New Hope and the Empire

Strikes Back nicely.

Andy Eschenbach

It’s been an awesome year for Comics so far. The past six months have shown an abundance of creative excellence, wrought with action, change, and intelligence. Even so, it wasn’t hard to pick what I believe to have been the ten best things to have happened in Comics in 2015. What I couldn’t do was narrow it down to single-issues in every case. Most comics just aren’t written that way, so you’ll just have to deal with my favorite runs being listed. Call me what ever you want over it. I’ll still love you.

10. Black Canary

Yes, I’m a grown-ass white dude. Yes, I bought Black Canary. What an exciting and stylish start to a potentially awesome book! Great command of voice and characterization out of Brenden Fletcher, and the fittingly rocky art of Annie Wu becomes a full-on sock to the jaw when combined with Lee Loughridge’s colors. I love that the title character is actually the whole band as much as I love the forming dynamics between them. My only complaint is a common one: DC’s ad placement- particularly the double Twix ad mid-story— is piss poor, and breaks the otherwise great pacing. Still, more issues could only move this title up on my favorites list, as far as I can tell after the first.

9. Silver Surfer 8-12

I imagine books from this run will be all over other people’s lists as well. Particularly issue 11 for it’s great feat of moebius madness. Even beyond that, this tale combines popfantasy strangeness with a love story so honestly human that I can’t help but concur with fellow fans. Slott and the Allreds make a great team, returning to the hidden romance of early Marvel superhero books without fumbling over predictable cliches or sloppy regurgitation. Plus, it’s funny. I’d like to see some longer arcs come from this formula if the title survives the big rebirth and all- but even if it’s left as it stands, it’s been a great run.

8. Uncanny X-Men 28-32

I feel like I’d spoil the story if I really said what I like most about this run. Bendis’s Cyclops- his choices, and the subsequent reactions of his teammates and peers- has me really excited. You won’t see me waving any “Not My Scott Summers” flags. In fact, I think it makes sense that after all this time the guy finally slips up and breaks down, and the looming concern of whether he’ll pull through is what makes this story compelling. You can see the classic X-Dysfunction playing catalyst to Slim’s conflicted state from a multitude of directions as this series nears it’s end. I do wish Bachalo’s action-abilities were more utilized by Bendis- but once that does happen, all the talking heads make perfect sense. There. Spoilers averted.

7. Weirdworld

Being an Extradimensional Barbarian myself, it’s great to finally see representation within the realm of comic books! And who better to pull it off than Jason Aaron and Mike Del Mundo?! This was the book I was most charged up about after the Secret Wars announcement, and the first issue exceeded my expectations. It’s gnarly, action-packed, insane, and gorgeous. The more I write about it, the less I do it any justice. Just great.

6. The Mantle 1 and 2

It’s not the fact that I’ve watched this book come to fruition at semi-close range that makes me love it. It’s the Villain. The Plague is horrifying. Ed Brisson’s treatment of such a juggernaut alone keeps me in waiting, puzzling over his true motivations. Brian Level’s art is as strong as it is adaptable, showing prowess just as readily in scenes of raw violence as in portraits of the mundane. He’s popping heads like grapes on one page, while super-types stop for a burger on another, and in each case there’s just the right energy for believability and effect. Jordan Boyd’s palette follows suit, both subtle and vibrant, giving each page it’s life or death, respectively. I can honestly say that even if I weren’t present for some of the process on this book, I’d be just as ready to read more about the multiple incarnations of The Mantle, and why they’re so viciously hunted by their nemesis. Comics needs more strange Super Hero books like this one. Take note.

5. Daredevil 11 and 12

If the covers from this mini-arc don’t immediately grab you, the content will. It’s going to be sad to see the Waid/Samnee duo off Daredevil soon, and it’s stories like these that kept me engrossed through their awesome run. Within these two particular issues you can find some of the coolest action and cleanest plot twists out of Waid- including a really great car chase(infamous for being difficult to write). I also have to applaud the overall treatment of depression and friendship throughout the entire run. Really well done- and it couldn’t have come across the same way without Samnee’s clarity and finesse. Everything is there that needs to be, nothing is there that doesn’t, and as big as my soft spot for post-modernism is, it’s been refreshing to see a new angle on old school Matt Murdock. Even if it’s a set up for another dive in to darkness for Daredevil, it will make the impact that much more intense.

4. Secret Wars

It’s been called the “Marvel Game of Thrones”, in both critical and praising voices, but even with it’s obvious parallels to the “Song of Ice and Fire” books, this story is strong and envelopingand original. Hickman’s ability to weave arcs is perfectly matched by Ribic’s capacity for drama. Once again, I find myself wanting to spoil everything for the potential new reader in praise of each character and their situation, but I won’t. Just read Secret Wars. God Doom requires it of you.

3. Invisible Republic 1-3

Please, Corrina Bechko and Gabriel Hardaman, show me how a regime will conveniently rewrite history for it’s own benefit! You’re the perfect pair to do it! And once again, Jordan Boyd’s mastery of color drives the mood home on each gritty page. I loved breaking Bad and Blade Runner, but comparing them to this book doesn’t really do it justice. Brave in it’s criticism, excellent in it’s execution, and undeniable in it’s pertinence- I can’t wait to find out where this tale ultimately leads. An exemplary Comics Magazine.

2. Rage of Ultron

Rick Remender successfully ties up his outstanding Superhero epic that started way back in Uncanny X-Force, supplying all the action and drama you need from an Avengers story, while tactfully tackling issues of life and death, creation and responsibility, and ultimately, love. Don’t get me wrong- his punk-rock angle keeps it gnarly and insane at each beat, but this is some real-life shit in fantasy format, given energy and breath by Jerome Opena’s command over the human form- a testament to knowledge and beauty. But don’t read it. Not until you’ve read Remender’s runs on Uncanny X-Force, Secret Avengers, Uncanny Avengers, and the Axis series. Then read it, and try not to cry when you realize that Marvel characters won’t be getting this kind of treatment anymore. You can always pick up a copy of The Black Science or Low if you’re left in wanting.

1. East of West 16-20

EASTOFWEHEHESSSSSST! I though it was over at issue fifteen, and am glad to have been wrong. Never before have I read such a masterful combination of social critique, cultural portrait, and pop-culture madness. It’s illusion and politics, sorcery and tech, cowboys and indians- it’s serious drama and manga at the same time, somehow- all the while unforgivingly shying away from dead tropes in exchange for new and intriguing characterization! Art and writing combine, unabashedly, to both question and promote everything you thought about everything. Hooray for Hickman and Dragotta! And now I’m left in that awkward state, like some skinflint in his underpants, having shown my true feelings for comics this year-so-far. I feel it necessary to further reveal myself by expressing enthusiasm for the rest of the year-to-come. I can’t wait to read more, and with books like Sebela’s “We(l)come back”, Mignola’s “Joe Golem, Occult Detective”, and Burnham’s “E is for Extinction” (featuring the gnarlyness that is Ramon Villalobos’s art), it looks like I’ll be well supplied. I’ll put my pants back on now.

Alright and that does it for this installment. A BIG thank you to the contributors on a job well done.

What’s your top 10 (or 5)? Let us know in the comments!

Savings Bin Sunday: Time Warp #1 (One-shot)

Today my weekly trip to the local savings bin yielded me Time Warp #1 (One-shot) put out by Vertigo comics. Time Warp is a collection of short stories revolving around a similar theme: Time (as the name might suggest). This title Boasts a star studded creative team featuring the talents of, Jeff Lemire, Gail Simone, Jordie Bellarie, Peter Mulligan, Dan Abnett and the list goes on. Personally, I’ve always enjoyed a short comic form. I feel like it gives the writer enough time to bring an idea into the readers mind, but leaves enough to the imagination that the reader can draw their own ideas from it. I also enjoy when comics explore the idea of time, and time travel. I feel like comic books are a great medium to really delve deep into the nooks and crannies of the idea. This is exactly what Time Warp does.

Time Warp is a collection of nine short stores, all about 9-10 pages long. For sake of length
I am only going to review 2 of these stories. I will give a brief synopsis, an analysis of story and art of each story, and impact value of the comic for me. So let’s begin.

It’s Full of Demons (Story: Tom King, Art: Tom Fowler)

-There’s no such thing as Demons (Paula)

This story opens up on a field in 1901 where a boy and a girl are playing  pretend war. The boy, who’s name is Addie, pretends to soot his sister, Paula repeatedly. Out of nowhere a time portal opens up and a strange figure in an orange futuristic suit steps out. The orange suited figure yells something in German and shoots the small boy in front of his sister. Later she swears to her father that demons did it. To which he responds there are no demons. The story skips ahead to 1935 and we find that Paulas family has admitted her into an insane asylum. While she is receiving Shock Therapy she hears the guards talking about the impending threat of Russia and a vote on a mysterious League of Nations. The story again skips ahead to 1946 and Russia has surrendered.at the same time Paula has escaped and the scene is of her on the street yelling at the parade that it’s full of demons, that her brother Addie told her so. The last scene we see is set in 1956 and Paula is an old woman, she is watching a television program in which Eisenhower is being interviewed about the success he has achieved as the head of the league of nations. Eisenhower goes on to say that peace isn’t attained in a moment but rather it takes millions coming together. All the while Paula stands on her chair and fastens a rope to the ceiling. We see that her landlord is banging on the door saying she can’t stay unless she pays. In the last frame Eisenhower says “We have, all of us, earned this peace” as Paula takes her own life and the landlord yells out “Miss Hitler, Miss Hitler, you must pay”.

The story and art in this one were fantastic. The unveiling at the end that the boy who was killed was actually Adolph Hitler blew me away. The theme of who would it affect if you changed the past was very intriguing. The art was solid and kept me visually entertained and interesting. I also liked the touch of the bright orange suit on the time traveler, it provided a nice contrast to the rest of the coloring (excellent work once again by Jordie Bellaire).

I give this short comic 8.5/10

R.I.P (Story: Damon Lindelof, Art: Jeff Lemire)

-I always thought being eaten by a dinosaur was the coolest way to die (Rip)

This comic opens up on the title character Rip running away from a T-rex. We learn that Rip is a time master and that his time machine was somehow damaged and he is stuck in prehistoric earth with no way to escape and a T-rex hot on his heals. What we also learn is that while Rip thinks being eaten by a dinosaur is the coolest way to die, he’s not ready to die just yet. All hope seems lost though until he runs into a slightly older (and clean shaven) version of himself. This version of himself helps him ford a river to elude the T-rex for slightly longer and reminds him he needs to travel back to this time to help himself cross a river in the future after a big quake or the fabric of the space time continuum will be thrown off. Rip of course agrees with Rip (why would he not?), and continues fleeing from the T-rex. He then runs into a slightly older, older version of himself who gives him a repel gun to scale a large wall to try to evade that darn T-rex still. He tells Rip he needs to come back to this time at a specific date. Rip scales the wall, thinking he has at last evaded the T-rex. It turns out that this T-rex can also scale walls and is traveling up it in pursuit of Rip. Rip turns around and runs into another version of himself, this time as an old man. The old man version of himself lets him have his time capsule, to which young rip says “But there will be two of us and one sphere, that would be a paradox we can’t both go” to which old Rip replied “When I was in second grade a bunch of us used to ask ourselfs what was the coolest way to die. I didn’t even have to think about it: Eaten by a dinosaur”. The old rip turns toward the dinosaur and says the last words of the comic “I’m ready now”.

I really enjoyed this story. I felt like it was an analogy for life and time it’s self. We all have a dinosaur chasing us, and that’s time. We maybe able to elude it for awhile but eventually it will catch up with us and we will succumb to it. The story was well conveyed and put together by Damon Lindelof. It was concise and easy to understand. The Art work by Jeff Lemire was outstanding. The perfect compliment to the story telling. All in all this was a fantastic short comic that makes me want to find more things written by Damon Lindelof. While it was a little predictable, and lacked a huge wow factor ending it still was very enjoyable.

I give this comic a 7.5/10.

Of the 7 remaining stories I really enjoyed “I Have What You Need” by Gail Simone an Gael Bertrand, and “She’s Not There” by Peter Mulligan, and M.K. Perker. Those two I would rate a 6.5/10.

Overall Time Warp #1 was a fun pick up from the savings bin. It was a bit of a surprise because I did not expect to like it nearly as much as I id. I would recommend it to anyone who enjoys fine story telling, Sci-Fi, time travel, or adventure.

-Andrew Horton