Approaching this final issue of Wonder Woman/Conan is a decidedly bitter-sweet experience. The series has been generally excellent and, with Marvel having reacquired the license to everyone’s favourite barbarian, further adventures featuring these two characters looks rather unlikely. A shame, but let’s not dwell on what may or may not be, eh? There’s a city to save and crow-goddesses to defeat. Let’s hope Conan can figure out what on earth he’s meant to do with that mystically glowing lasso…
1983 was the year I really got into comics. American comics, that is. I’d collected British comics since the mid-70s (Warlord and Doctor Who Weekly mostly – not 2000AD. Far too gruesome!), but a combination of a fairly steady UK distribution service to newsagents and the increasingly sophisticated storytelling of DC’s and Marvel’s output soon worked its magic on me. Obviously, Justice League of America was a title that appealed to me. I mean, why wouldn’t it? A diverse grouping of colourfully-costumed superheroes banding together to fight outlandish threats was right up my alley. In many respects, as a 13-year-old boy with a pronounced fondness for sci-fi and action, I was probably the mainstream comic companies’ ideal customer. Certainly, this issue is one I remember really enjoying at the time. How does it stack up now? There’s only one way to find out…
This series has been, the odd moment of uncertainty notwithstanding, a delight to read and review. As Conan and Wonder Woman head to Shamur to prevent the city’s destruction at the hands of the vengeful Corvidae, this issue reveals that writer Gail Simone still has a few tricks up her sleeve. We see one longstanding mystery (sort of) solved, but another take its place. It’s the penultimate issue, people! Let’s see what’s going on!
This series has quickly become one I look forward to every month. The decision by Gail Simone to supplement the main story featuring Conan and Diana with a developing flashback featuring a younger Conan and a girl called Yanna who looks (and acts) an awful lot like our favourite Amazonian princess has proven to be an astute one. With an increased opportunity for mirroring and foreshadowing, it’s added greater emotional depth to the narrative and, indeed, last month’s cliffhanger emerged out of that flashback plot rather than the main one. Having finally brought our heroes into direct contact (and conflict) with the Corvidae, the story’s principal antagonists, we enter the second half of the story with a fairly clear idea of where the plot – and our heroic duo – is headed. What is less clear is how the action of the present ties in with the memories of Conan’s past. Will we get some clarity this issue? Let’s see…
Last issue saw our two heroes fight each other in an arena, get transferred to a smuggling ship, get threatened by randy sailors, see the ship they’re on get rammed by a Zingaran patrol boat, jump overboard in a desperate attempt to escape and, finally, get menaced by some impressively-rendered sharks. Phew! If all of that sounds action-packed, well, it is. Although much of the action could easily be categorized as padding. Will this issue’s action be any more purposeful? There’s only one way to find out…
Last month’s opening instalment of this series was big on action, a characterization of Conan that foregrounded his grim humour and mercenary streak, and a Wonder Woman who, divorced from her familiar milieu and suffering amnesia, was cloaked in mystery. There was much to enjoy and I must admit I liked it a great deal. Left with a number of issues to explore, not least the precise nature of this version of Wonder Woman and the intriguing question of how she would get on with a hero like Conan, I awaited the arrival of this second issue with a fair amount of anticipation – and impatience. Was it worth the wait? Let’s find out…
I must admit I’ve been excited about this title ever since it was first announced. As a Wonder Woman fan of many years and a Conan fan for even longer, the prospect of these two iconic characters sharing the printed page was mouth-watering to say the least. That Gail Simone was to be responsible for the script only added to the anticipation. Simone’s understanding of everyone’s favourite Amazon princess is already well-established and her run on Red Sonja is compelling evidence that she can do sword and sorcery with enviable skill. In short, I expected this to be good. Even so, I wasn’t adequately prepared for just how enjoyable and satisfying this first issue was…
Engineering a crossover between two beloved franchises set in markedly different universes is not an easy thing to accomplish. There are, it seems, a couple of ways of doing it. The first, a la the recent Planet of the Apes/Green Lantern series, is to provide a clear in-story reason for the coming together of the different franchises; the second, a la the Snyder/Orlando/Rossmo Batman/Shadow series is to avoid addressing the issue, pretend that the two franchises have always been linked and hope no one cares enough to ask too many awkward questions. This series looks like it’s going to be opting for the former approach, although, by the end of the issue, we’ve still not got a full explanation for how Diana ends up in Aquilonia. What we have got, however, is an exceptionally engaging Conan-centric first half of the issue.
The issue starts with a single-page flashback to Conan’s youth, when, attending a meeting of clan leaders with his father, he encounters a warrior woman and Yanna, a younger warrior girl. The younger Conan is visibly struck by her… well, what exactly? She is very pretty, but it’s not her beauty that the narration focuses on but the notion that, to Conan at any rate, she “walk[s] in mystery”. What this means exactly is not clear. There is, perhaps, the hint of something supernatural going on here, but there’s not much time to dwell on this as the action shifts to focus on an older, more cynical Conan. He is about to ride past a group of three Aesir tribesmen who are preparing to burn off the jaw of Kian, a scrawny Aquilonian. Kian’s quick talking manages to persuade Conan to intervene and save him, but his promise of a gold reward for our barbarian hero proves to be a little more speculative than Conan was expecting. Despite finding out that his promised remuneration depends upon the favourable outcome of a bet on a match in the local arena, Conan is content to follow Kian and extract his reward after the fight is over.
It’s worth pointing out that both Simone’s dialogue and Lopresti and Ryan’s artwork are excellent here. Simone presents Conan with a dry sense of humour and a mercenary streak that is entirely in keeping with Howard’s original creation. The fight between Conan and the three Aesir is rendered clearly and the details of the action are appropriately bold and brutal. To cap the whole episode off, when Conan asks the final Aesir why they were preparing to torture Kian, the Aesir uses his dying breath to inform him that Kian had welched on a debt. Conan’s reaction of “Crom” is nicely wry. It seems that the chances of Conan receiving his payment are diminishing by the page.
As Conan and Kian head for Shamar, the Aquilonian city, we get our first look at a certain warrior princess. (No, not that one!) Somehow captured by Dellos the Slaver and compelled to fight in the arena, Diana is nameless and wearing a crude approximation of her normal outfit, including a star daubed (or tattooed) onto the middle of her forehead. While she can’t remember how she got there or who she is, she can remember how to fight and takes on three male opponents in a really rather impressive action sequence.
This, of course, is the match that Kian has bet on and he has, of course, bet on gender stereotypes and come up horribly short. It’s a good thing, then, that Conan, having seen Diana and been reminded of Yanna from his childhood, is too preoccupied with the Amazonian to be angry with Kian for not being able to fulfill his promise of gold. There follows an interesting moment in which Conan and Diana meet and a cliffhanger ending that, given the nature of the story so far, is not especially surprising but nevertheless manages to round off the issue in a satisfying way.
This is an excellent issue for a variety of reasons. Firstly, Lopresti’s art, if perhaps a little too cartoony for some Conan fans’ tastes (he’s no John Buscema, after all), suits this kind of rollicking action yarn perfectly. There’s a wonderful gruesome clarity to the fight sequences and some interesting uses of perspective, too. Outshining the art by some distance is Simone’s script. Not only does she imbue each of the main characters with their own clearly-defined personalities, but also, through her narration and despite the odd misstep (“no amount of rusted valor would penetrate his thuggish cadre of guards” is not the best), she manages to convey a grandeur and insight that adds a welcome depth and complexity to the overall story. The moment when Conan recognizes (or thinks he recognizes Diana) wouldn’t have anywhere near the impact without the narrator repeating a key line from earlier in the book, for example.
As first issues go, this one does its job perfectly: the main characters have met and begun to form some sort of friendship; an antagonist has been clearly identified and an amusing supporting character introduced; key questions have been raised about just how Diana has come to be in the predicament in which we find her during this issue. Satisfyingly, Simone doesn’t seem to be in any particular hurry to explain things to us, instead preferring to concentrate on the exploring the emotional connection between our two leads and that, it seems to me, can only result in a more natural-seeming and involving narrative.
In short, this is a great start to the series. The odd bit of poor writing notwithstanding, this is a thoroughly engaging issue with great characterization that forms the basis of an already intriguing chemistry between our two lead characters. Lopestri and Ryan’s artwork is dynamic and entertaining and there are hooks galore in the form of unanswered questions about Diana and an ending that promises plenty of action next time around. Highly recommended.
Of the ‘big three’ DC superheroes, Wonder Woman’s origin is by far the most fluid, contentious and contradictory. Whereas Batman’s and Superman’s are both more or less set in stone and well known to even the most casual of comic reader, Wonder Woman’s is, it seems, perennially up for grabs, a prime target for the whims and agendas of a host of writers. So, when fan favourite Greg Rucka returns to the book after two (although for very different reasons) controversial New 52 runs from Brian Azzarello and Meredith Finch, is it too much to ask that he leaves the whole notion of Wonder Woman’s backstory alone?
What do you think?
The issue starts by highlighting the two main contradictory versions of Wonder Woman’s origin. Either she is made of clay – a gift of the gods to Hippolyta, Queen of the Amazons, given life by supernatural forces – or the result of a union between Hippolyta and a disguised Zeus and, in that sense, no different from any of the other many demi-gods of Greek mythology. The first origin reflects the Judaeo-Christian creation story and highlights how much Diana was wanted by her mother; the second is arguably rooted in deception and lust, and emphasises Diana’s heroic status, putting her on a par with Heracles, Perseus and a host of other heroes who claim Zeus’ paternity. The more perceptive of you will have noticed that I’m more a fan of the first origin, but I should point out that what I’ve read of the Azzarello run (about 20 issues) I’ve enjoyed immensely. Having made his choice about Diana’s origin, Azzarello explores it to its full potential, crafting a very entertaining set of stories out of the resulting collision of the world of 21st century (post)modernity and the world of ancient gods.
It’s clear, however, that Rucka has his own ideas about which origin should be favoured; arguably the very fact that he’s even asking the question in the first place indicates that he’s not especially enamoured of the New 52 run. Instead of resolving this fundamental contradiction immediately, however, Rucka chooses to make it the subject of his narrative. He has Wonder Woman question herself, question her memories, her origin, her past and her heritage. She questions how she is perceived by “man’s world” (a phrase that is problematic in its own right) and this culminates in her submitting herself to her own lasso of truth test in which she articulates what her subconscious had been telling her all this time. “You have been deceived.” This comes just after she has taken the ‘helmet of the God of War’ and crushed it in her hands, symbolically devaluing the Finch run in the process. While no one will shed too many tears about that, it is nevertheless a disconcerting moment, not only for Wonder Woman, but also for the reader. The question of just how much of what went on in the New 52 run is going to survive into this is raised and it seems the answer might well be “Not an awful lot.”
This section ends with Diana punching a mirror in a rather impressive (almost) double page spread, each shard reflecting a moment that has been called into question. These include the relationship with Superman (which I really won’t miss), a battle with the Cheetah, the JL fighting parademons and Diana cradling her mother in her arms. There then follows a page in which Diana questions where her story “went wrong” (a loaded question for any storyteller working in a shared universe to have a character ask, particularly when said storyteller has written the character before) and decides to ‘retrace her steps’ to find out. As she does so, she divests herself of key items of her costume – the tiara and the WW choker, both of which are associated closely with the New 52 run. She turns her attention back to the battered helmet of the god of war and…
Up until this point, we’ve been enjoying artwork from Matthew Clark and Sean Parsons and very nice it’s been, too. The lines have been light and clean and Wonder Woman herself has looked pretty impressive and dynamic. Now, we are treated to six pages from Liam Sharp who will be one of the regular artists on the book. The lines become heavier; the colouring darker. Her armour becomes more detailed. There is a muted sombre quality to the art now and it is gorgeous. Wonder Woman doesn’t waste any time and travels to Olympus using the battered helmet as a focus. What greets her there is an autumnal world of faded elegance and stately ruin. The sky is a sumptuous wine-red, and buildings and statues are wreathed in ancient vines. More worryingly for Diana, the gods are entirely absent. Only the statues remain who turn out to be mindless automatons left by Hephaestus to protect this faded Olympus. Wonder Woman dispatches them in a handful of stylish, beautifully rendered panels and is left with the conclusion that “this lie” is “afraid” of her and this is “not Olympus”. All very portentous. All very dramatic. All very vague.
As befits a Rebirth issue, the reader is left with plenty of questions. Where have the real gods gone? Who is powerful enough to erect a fake Olympus in place of the real one? Who is responsible for the deception that has been worked on Diana? Exactly what is true and what is false? How will this affect Diana going forward?
It’s too early for answers, but what we do know is that Rucka is confident enough in what he’s doing to play a long game and I suspect there’ll be many more questions before we start getting answers. Some would perhaps argue that the entire issue is simply an exercise in professional discourtesy. I’m not convinced myself. Personally, I’d contend that, as a writer whose first run on the book was both critically and commercially successful, Rucka’s earned the right to engage in a bit of revisionism. Whether he’s wise to do so remains to be seen. There’s enough here, however, to intrigue and impress this reader at least.
As Rebirth issues go, then, this is not bad at all. Even when he’s being elliptical, Rucka’s writing is very good (the line about the “first casualty of war” being the truth is nicely played). The artwork of both Clark and Sharp is also good, with Sharp’s being, at times, breathtakingly beautiful. I do have reservations, though. I care about the character of Wonder Woman a great deal and do worry that, if the book gets bogged down in a series of character ‘corrections’, the opportunity for Wonder Woman to reassert herself as a powerful superhero in her own right might be lost. I don’t especially want to see Diana constantly conflicted and unsure of her own identity. I want to see her saving the world, fighting evil and injustice, and generally being awesome. Hopefully that’s where Rucka is taking us. Time, as always, will tell…
The new league’s first big adventure comes to an end in spectacular – and frustrating – fashion.
So far, this series has been something of a disappointment. Like a jigsaw made up of pieces that seem to come from slightly different puzzles, the opening story arc has been disjointed and awkward to read. The League, too, has been presented in a fragmented way, members acting mostly singly or in pairs and communicating with one another only intermittently. Then there’s the threat – or rather threats – with which the League has been dealing.
Firstly, there’s the Purge, a seemingly infinite number of flying, swarming bio-weapons disgorged from much larger ship-creatures that travel through a wormhole from their destroyed, shattered world to Earth. Green Lanterns Jessica Cruz and Simon Baz have traveled through the aforementioned wormhole to cut off the flow of bio-weaponry at the source while the Flash takes care of the Purge on the ground. So far, an adequate explanation of either what the Purge is or why it’s attacking the Earth has not been forthcoming. We have, however, had hints. Cyborg is connected to them via some sort of frequency he’s detected and… hacked? Subverted? Commandeered? We’re not really told. What we are told is that the Purge has been doing this sort of thing for some time and the Earth is “screwed” if the League don’t thwart their plan to turn human beings into things that aren’t human. This has been happening all over the galaxy, apparently, for, it is implied, a very long time.
Then, there’s the Kindred. The Kindred are four giant humanoid gestalt entities formed from the bodies of normal human beings. The jury is still out on whether those bodies have to be living at the time of their absorption. It’s entirely possible they don’t. These Kindred are getting together for a good old sing-song, a Fab Four if you like, although without, presumably, the side journey into eastern mysticism and mind-altering drugs. (Mind you, if you want mind-altering, you could do a lot worse than this issue, actually.) This singing will, perhaps, stop the Purge. The Kindred have already started singing apparently, but it’s difficult to tell, because although we get to hear what they’re saying to each other, we don’t get anything other than a visual representation of their song. Wonder Woman is currently inside one of the Kindred and the Kindred have also been responsible for siphoning off the heroes’ powers. Or at least some of them. There have been references to “stolen power” from the Kindred, which seem to tie in with some of the JL’s heroes, whose powers have been fluctuating during the story at inopportune times whenever they’ve come into contact with the Kindred. What happens when the Kindred finish their song is unclear; we suspect it might be good, but it’s hard to be sure. On the one hand, they will stop the Purge. On the other hand, they only really seem to care about doing so just before…
The four doomsday devices at the Earth’s core go off.
Four? Yep. That’s where Superman comes in, pushing those big blank balls of nothing from the Earth’s outer core into the Earth’s inner core. These are the same doomsday devices that set off the quakes in the very first issue and set off a quake “off the Richter scale” last issue. We have no idea what’s happening in the rest of the world but the rhetoric is all about the escalation and the JL barely dealt with the last quake. If Superman doesn’t get to those doomsday machines quickly, then… Hang on a moment. Just how fast can Superman move through molten super-heated magma? No, I have no idea either, but it’d be nice to know, wouldn’t it?
Right. That’s three threats that are connected in ways which we understand only imperfectly. The Kindred want to prevent the Purge, but they are also aware of the “breaking of worlds”. Is this some sort of contingency plan to prevent the Purge taking over humanity? If so, who put it there? And why is the prospect of the Purge’s corruption of humanity so terrible that it would necessitate their installation in the first place?
And then there’s Aquaman and his singing crystals. This is where we come in this issue. Aquaman’s listening to the singing crystals and they’re telling him where he should bury them. The problem is Aquaman’s narration is big on certainty but there is just so little to go on. The crystals say he’s “family”. Erm… okay. If there’s some kind of mind-influencing going on then fair enough. If Aquaman’s so freaked out about the end of the world that he’s desperate enough to take a chance on telepathic crystals that no one has paid much attention to before, then again fair enough. But there is no sense from the narration or the art that either interpretation of his actions is appropriate here. He’s just taking a chance on the voices in his head. And that’s… astonishingly weak.
Anyway, Aquaman plants one of his (four – again!) crystals and then heads off to plant the others. As with Superman, the question of just how quickly Aquaman can traverse the planet springs to mind. We are forced to assume it’s not very long.
We then move back to the Kent Farm, where a shaken Cyborg reveals that… somehow… he’s not just in touch with the Purge but controlling it. Why? How? We don’t know. All we know is that Cyborg intercepted a mysterious signal last issue and somehow used it to take control of a bunch of alien creatures he’s only just encountered.
You’ll be hearing that word a lot this review.
Batman finally gets to do something, boom-tubing with Cyborg to where the Flash is being swarmed by more Purge critters as the four Kindred continue their song nearby. Wonder Woman, of course, is also present inside one of the Kindred. There is yet another page of ambiguous dialogue before she is ejected from inside the Kindred’s body with a promise that, when she works out who she is, then she “will understand”. While this is undoubtedly a reference to the events of Wonder Woman’s own series, the Kindred’s pronouncements are simply too elliptical to have any sort of dramatic weight. As readers, we need to understand things now – not at some unspecified point in the future. If all Wonder Woman is going to do is have a largely pointless conversation consisting of threats, vague but portentous declarations, and a promise that things will be explained later, then what was the point of putting her in there in the first place?
The following page features perhaps the single most representative panel of the entire issue. Four JL-ers – The Flash, Batman, Wonder Woman and Cyborg – standing around talking to each other, watching events unfold around them, doing nothing. The two TV reporters at the bottom of the page only make things worse. “Where are the Justice League?” Well, four of them are in a field somewhere watching the end of the world. Nice.
The following conversation between the heroes highlights the crushing silliness of the last few issues. It is worth reproducing in its full glory below.
Batman’s point is not coincidental. Why hasn’t the League tried to work out what the Kindred want? We’re five issues in and even now it’s not clear. Where does Wonder Woman get her really rather incredible – and not particularly well thought out – insight about the Kindred and their relationship to the League from? Most incredible of all, though, is the Flash’s sudden revelation that all he has to do to regain his speed is… take it back. Somehow. No ruby slippers to click together, no magic words to say – just a look of determination and a snatch of macho dialogue. Will to power in its purest form. Who needs silly things like plot devices and challenges for the hero?
What follows is nonsensical plot point after nonsensical plot point: the Flash takes his speed back, the most iconic female superhero in the world reduced to the role of cheerleader as he does so; Cyborg continues to exercise his unexplained ability to control the Purge and directs them at the Kindred; Aquaman swims; Superman pushes; Wonder Woman finally does something useful although with still no clear idea that it will be the right thing to do (“think” doesn’t cut it); Simon and Jessica siphon off the Purge from their ruined world, forming a construct tube to funnel them through the wormhole and onto the Kindred. That last bit is actually pretty cool, but, as has been the case throughout this series to date, the wow factor is diminished considerably when the reader isn’t entirely sure what’s going on or why what’s going on matters.
The fast intercutting between characters is meant to provide that sense of breathless desperation that would be entirely appropriate to the finale of a five-part world-threatening epic if the build-up to it hadn’t been so appallingly mismanaged. As it is, we’re left with Superman not having the strength to push the final ball-of-apocalyptic-nothingness into the Earth’s inner core (oh, no!) while Aquaman races to bury his final zodiac crystal in the “final corner of the Earth”, a ‘corner’ which is, appropriately enough, right where the Kindred are.
Aquaman saves the world (a good job, because Superman’s failed at this point – not that anyone else knows that yet) – and the Kindred think they get to finish their song. Batman, not being that much of a music lover apparently, has other ideas. To be (maybe too) fair, the final confrontation between the League and the Kindred is pretty dramatic. Batman’s point that the Kindred are made up of people and thus those people need to be saved is an entirely valid one. For the first time in the five issue run, it is made clear that the crystals are also dedicated to stopping the Kindred – providing a counter-song to what the Kindred are doing. That the reader still doesn’t have a clear idea of what the Kindred are trying to achieve renders the whole things less tense and involving than it should be, but Hitch and Daniel together do provide one of the best pages of storytelling I’ve seen in a long while.
Yep. This page is rather special…
A shame then that it’s followed up by a page in which Batman says the worst piece of dialogue in the issue (and that’s saying something) and a double page spread in which Superman unleashes and (somehow) directs the power of an omni-directional doomsday device that can apparently destroy an entire planet at the Kindred, freeing all the people within without killing a single one of them.
Well, you either buy that or you don’t. One of the problems with the entire story is the way the focus has shifted away from the JL protecting civilians in the first couple of issues to dealing with the Kindred and the Purge in the later ones. Rather belatedly, they remember those civilians. “There still may be casualties,” says Flash. May be? Do you think? But, you know what? The final page shows that the League don’t really care too much about that. The Flash flirts with Jessica, Superman and Batman have a conversation that just reinforces the sense that they really didn’t know what they’ve just been dealing with and we end on a nice shot of Lois and John wearing Superman’s cape about them waiting for him to return which, in a better-told story, might have some emotional resonance but here just feels completely superfluous.
So, what to make of all this? It’s clear that Hitch has a long game in play, but it’s equally clear that he hasn’t plotted it sufficiently well to tell a good story while holding enough information back to lead up to the big reveal. I get the impression that he’s aiming for a Hickman style run, but his command of contextual detail is sadly lacking and the story feels far too detached from the wider DCU to have the kind of impact of, say, Hickman’s Avengers run prior to Secret Wars. For an action comic, the League spend a lot of time standing around telling people what they don’t know. Action without context or with barely articulated purpose makes for poor storytelling which is, the impressive artwork notwithstanding, pretty much what we’ve got here.
The frustrating thing is that this could have been better. The notion that the Kindred can affect the entire universe is intriguing, but their background and purpose need to be much better defined than what we get here. Questions that aren’t even asked but desperately need to be addressed include: Who are the Kindred and what is their connection to the JL’s powers? Who put the extinction machines in the Earth’s core? How long have they been there? Why are they there? Are such machines in place in other planets in case the Kindred visit them? What is the Purge? What does it want? How does turning the population into something ‘not human’ disrupt the Kindred from doing… whatever it is they’re doing? What are the Zodiac Crystals? How do they work?
Perhaps more importantly, though, who thought it was a good idea to give DC’s flagship team to a relatively unproven writer with a grand vision but an insufficiently clear idea of how to bring it about?
In which our heroes continue to do pretty much all the things they were doing last issue. No, really.
We start this issue with our rookie GLs who are still trying to prevent alien space critters (the Purge) travelling through a wormhole towards Earth. And already on the first page we have a curious conversation in which Simon (sort of) admonishes Jessica for (sort of) suggesting that the Flash isn’t up to his self-appointed job of clearing the Earth of the aforementioned critters before (sort of) agreeing with her that they do indeed need to keep the wormhole clear of them. Simon realises the broken planet below is somehow producing the Purge and goes down to investigate leaving Jessica (lest we forget a rookie GL who still doesn’t have full control over her construct-building abilities) to deal with the remaining Purge creatures. While I understand that Hitch is going for the ‘one hero demonstrating her heroism against a swarm of smaller creatures’ approach, this requires a suspension of disbelief that’s difficult to pull off.
But that’s okay, because we shift back to the Kents’ farm where… Cyborg is doing pretty much exactly the same thing. Except this time Cyborg, through the wonderful power of technology, gets to find out what’s going on. This being the Justice League, though, does he tell Batman (and us) straight away? No. Of course not. Instead, he simply tells Batman that the entire planet is “screwed” and we return to the four Kindred who are standing facing out to, I assume, the four compass points and speaking cryptically to themselves. Or possibly to Wonder Woman who’s still trapped inside one of them, not that you’d know that at the moment.
What the Kindred are saying is potentially interesting. Their presence on the Earth has significance for the whole universe, not just the planet. There is reference to the breaking of worlds (presumably the doomsday – no, not him – devices buried deep under the Earth’s crust) and there is reference to the song the Kindred must sing “before this planet shatters”. There is no indication that singing the song will save the Earth either. Interestingly, the Kindred view the JL as their protectors.
I wonder if the JL see things the same way…
Aquaman’s still under the sea. Well, that makes sense, I suppose, but it’s the only thing in this section that does. Aquaman’s function here is to gather up the zodiac stones, singing (not that anyone else can hear them) crystal artefacts from some time in Atlantis’ distant past. The problem with this section is that Aquaman is receiving instructions from a song (the same song the Kindred want to sing?) that only he can hear. Having surrendered any scepticism or critical thinking in service to the plot, Aquaman just does what the song tells him. Aquaman asks, “Why can I hear it, understand it?” This is not only a reasonable question for the character to ask, but an absolutely vital one for the reader to get answers to. So, obviously, we don’t.
And Hitch’s script makes things worse. You can get away with a fair amount of ropey plotting if your actual writing is entertaining and interesting. “They can fix it. The crystals. They can fix the world!” fails on so many levels it’s difficult to know where to start. While the fragmented language is probably meant to convey excitement, it simply comes across as incoherent. Using a word like ‘fix’ instead of something like ‘mend’ or ‘repair’ (or, even better, ‘restore’) means an opportunity to lend this dramatic moment some gravitas has been passed up, if not actively undermined. And are we really meant to believe that a bunch of obscure crystal statues that we’ve never heard of before is somehow meant to provide the solution to a problem that threatens to destroy the whole world and this failsafe relies on Aquaman obeying voices in his head?
Never mind. At Clark and Lois’ farm, Batman continues to not do very much while Cyborg explains the plot. Sort of. Well, not very much at all, actually. We finally get confirmation that the wormhole-traversing space critters are the Purge and that their purpose is to transform humanity into something “not human”. That, according to Cyborg, is the “important bit” – so important he can’t actually explain it properly. The quake things are a failsafe to destroy the world. How this is related to the Purge, the Kindred or anything else that’s happening in this comic remains maddeningly unclear.
If you, like me, at this point want to screw the comic up into a ball and launch it at the nearest unsuspecting family member, you might be advised to go ahead and do so now. Who knows what you might be tempted to do once you’ve read the next section. Superman is at the Earth’s core being rubbish. But that’s okay, because the creative team are also being rubbish. Apparently, the best way to portray ancient prehistoric doomsday devices implanted in the Earth’s outer core is… not to bother. Superman’s efforts to stop the quake-inducing devices are meeting with failure, but not as much failure as that displayed by Hitch’s imagination. Because these epic potentially planet-fracturing machines are, apparently, big balls of blanks space. When Hitch ends this page on the word ‘nothing’, he is being surprisingly and horrifyingly honest. ‘Nothing’ is what this page has been, in the end, all about.
Then we’re back with Batman and Lois who, almost as if she knows her husband’s in the process of failing his big JL Rebirth audition deep below her feet, tries to convince Batman not to give up on Clark. (That said, I’d love to know what his other plan would have been!)
The Flash, meanwhile, is single-handedly defeating the Purge when he comes across the four Kindred staring up into space, their mouths still resolutely shut. (Maybe they’re just waiting for that big intro.) Once again, he finds his speed stolen, though. We finally get some Diana inside one of the Kindred. It’s always nice to see Diana, but it would be nicer to get some answers, or at least more solid hints to them. We get more grand verbiage instead – “The Eternal Return”; reclaiming “stolen power”; “we are a memory of so long ago”. It’s clear at this point that Hitch is building up to something big, but it’s equally clear that that something big is not going to be revealed – or even clarified – any time soon. If the entire run of the JL so far is simply set-up for something else, then Hitch (and, by extension, DC itself) is expecting readers to take an awful lot on trust. At this point, I just don’t know that I can give it.
At the Earth’s core, Superman hits on the idea of pushing the doomsday device into the Earth’s inner core, despite the toll it’s taking on his body. His heroism would be impressive if we had a clear idea of what he was actually doing, but we don’t. Jesus Merino’s art is good (as it has been all issue, to be fair) but can’t really disguise that there are some pretty significant problems here. It’s notable, for example, that the only time the doomsday device gains any sense of detail is when it’s being collapsed by the pressure at the Earth’s core. Superman realizes he’s going to have to destroy the other three devices to make sure the Earth is saved. Well, at least they’ll be easy to spot. There can’t be that many spheres of nothingness down there, can there?
We lurch and stumble towards the end of the issue with Diana ranting and threatening, the Flash falling and failing, Batman deciding that now would be a good time to get Lois and John somewhere else, Cyborg having some sort of fit and, finally, Simon and Jessica on the alien half-planet being confronted with a horde of aliens that all look suspiciously like Cyborg. Which should be a cool way to end the issue, but instead feels like yet another curveball thrown at us to fool us into thinking that something exciting might be going on. And, as any baseball fan will tell you, if all you throw is curveballs, eventually you’re going to be found out.
To say this issue is frustrating would be an understatement. The big questions have (mostly) still not been answered and, while the League members have moments of individual heroism, the whole story is too disjointed to provide the context necessary to make that heroism really stand out. The only possible exception to this is Superman who does, to be fair, seem to be facing a genuine challenge. The cover by Fernando Paserin and Brad Anderson is actually pretty awesome. The problem is that it portrays a unified League that simply doesn’t appear in the comic. There’s still too much fragmentation of focus, too many ‘massive’ threats that the League members are facing singly or in pairs instead of doing what most people have probably bought this book for in the first place – coming together to pool their talents and resources against a formidable, credible foe. Perhaps that’ll come next issue. Who knows? In the meantime, this issue continues to present a messy, somewhat incoherent storyline that remains big on spectacle but frustratingly short on explanation.