The Hollow Supermen

In "Secret Origins" #46 (December, 1989) the Justice League's costumes are appropriated by invisible aliens.

This is during the post-Crisis, pre-Infinite Crisis era when Black Canary had taken Wonder Woman's place on the team's founding roster, by the way. Thank God that miscarriage of justice has been rectified, huh? Kidding. I actually don't give a rat's ass! Psyche! Although I did like the notion of the League being started entirely by second-stringers, and Wonder Woman, Batman, and Superman (a.k.a. the Cool Table) only bothering to join after the team had garnered some name recognition. It was a little more like real life. Ah, well.

The team rounds up the renegade costumes in one of Green Lantern's force bubbles, although if you ask me a couple of drycleaning bags would have worked just as well. And thankfully, the League members all have duplicate costumes to wear. Except for Aquaman. "This was the best I could manage," he sheepishly explains. He'll use the same excuse during his One Big Metal Shoulderpad phase. Although if you ask me, he looks better in just the trunks! (And I'm apparently not the only one thinking that; check out Barry's line of sight in that panel.) And I'm having a little trouble believing that Black Canary has duplicate wigs just laying around her house. Who is she, Eva Gabor?

As it turns out, the aliens are benevolent (but of course, since this is a Grant Morrison story, and I'm sure if he could have shoehorned in the American Military-Industrial Complex as the actual villain I'm sure he would have) and at the end everyone learns a nice lesson about not jumping to conclusions, and the League would never have another battle based on a misunderstanding ever, ever again. (What?! Why are you looking at me like that?) But the main thing I learned is that some of those costumes are more interesting than the heroes wearing them! Here's my personal tally:

• Martian Manhunter: wildly uneven characterization ranging from boring standard superhero to boring J.M. DeMatteis hippie pacifist to boring Kelsey Grammar rip-off in the Bwah-Ha-Ha League to boring angst-ridden nearly-omnipotent Mopee stand-in in the Ostrander series to his currently boring 10-years-too-late badass personality. His costume: regulation superhero trunks 'n' boots, plus a red X-shaped harness, a cape with a high stiff collar, and a belt buckle shaped like a delicious French pastry. Advantage: costume.
• Black Canary: flower-sellin' gal with a butch brunette haircut who whores it up with a sexpot costume and her loudmouth Commie boyfriend. But she does know karate and she drives a chopper. Her costume: bustier with built-in panties, fishnets, high-heeled boots, teeny toreador jacket, velvet choker, and a gorgeous blonde wig (or two, apparently). Advantage: this is a tough one, but I'm going to have to give it to the costume, mainly because it's never blown Green Arrow.
• The Barry Allen Flash: are you kidding me? Advantage: costume. That said, I wish it had died with Barry. And no, changing up the lightning-belt doesn't count.
• Green Lantern: Jerky commitment-phobe racist murderer with a thing for teenage girls. His costume: for a while, it was the standard in super-garb. Classic lines, especially once the green part extended over the shoulders. Plus the chest logo is graphically clean and easy to comprehend. Advantage: in an upset, Green Lantern. I mean, sure, he's a terrible human being. But you must admit that he is interesting!
• Aquaman: again, a victim of inconsistent characterization but the prevailing one seems to be "standoffish monarch" which is way too Sub-Mariner for my tastes. His costume: shirt handcrafted from the skins of a thousand goldfish, trunkless green tights with built-in calf-fins, matching green gloves, and a logo-themed belt buckle. Advantage: aw, how can I say "no" to those broad shoulders? The costume, of course! I've based my entire design career around its neckline! How could I let it down now, in its time of need?

Your turn! Are there any other heroes out there with costumes that are more engaging than they are? Or vice-versa? Tell me about them!

Comic Review Roundup

Last Tuesday I bought...

B.P.R.D.: The Dead #1 by Mike Mignola, John Arcudi, and Guy Davis.
After that one B.P.R.D. miniseries with the gnomes or whatever, by Christopher Golden and that one guy who couldn't draw very well, what'shisface, I felt royally ripped off. So I skipped "Plague of Frogs," even though it was by a different creative team. This was evidently a big mistake. I picked up "The Dead" because it was a slow week and I love Guy Davis' artwork. The story this time around is terrific, with some interesting internal shakeups at the B.P.R.D. and a fascinating glimpse into Abe Sapien's previous life -- something that was hinted at in "Plague of Frogs" I've been told. (Note to self: go buy "Plague of Frogs.") There's also a cool new character: Captain Benjamin Daimo, a disfigured gent who cut his way out of a body bag after being dead for three days. And I'm not sure he's a good guy, either. With a story like this, and the artwork of Guy Davis (who, I'm sorry, draws Mignola characters with more warmth and range of expression than Mignola does) I'm looking forward to the next issue.

Last Thursday I bought...

The Flash #215 by Geoff Johns, Howard Porter, and Livesay.
I got sick of what Johns was doing on this title a few years ago, which is when I stopped buying it on a regular basis. I bought last issue and this issue because they tie into "Identity Crisis." Last issue, Wally received a letter from his deceased mentor, Barry Allen. That's pretty much all that happened. Wally got a letter. This issue, he reads the letter! Yes, it's all-out epistolary action in the mighty Geoff Johns manner! It turns out that Barry wants Wally to restore the sanity of the Top, even though it will make the Top evil again -- because this is a Geoff Johns story, and things have to be depressing and horrible all the time. I can't say I care for the plot, but the flashback scenes did make me interested in the Top, of all characters, and that's a pretty impressive feat all by itself. In other news, Howard Porter still hasn't figured out how to draw Green Arrow's hat. For the love of God, man, use some photo reference now and then! It won't kill you, I promise! I got a good laugh out of Howard's version of the "practically the entire JLA dogpiles on Doctor Light" scene from "Identity Crisis." Howard tries to cram everyone into a vertical panel, so instead of the full-contact "You grab an arm, I'll grab a leg" version that Rags Morales created, we get Hawkman choking Doctor Light, Black Canary grabbing onto his cape, three other characters just kind of standing there and Green Lantern floating aimlessly in the background. It looks less like a life-or-death struggle and more like a costume fitting gone horribly awry.

JSA #67 by Geoff Johns, Dave Gibbons, and James Hodgkins.
Guest artist Gibbons' pencils aren't exactly spectacular, but they are anatomically competent and pleasant to look at. Which makes them about a jillion times better than regular artist Don Kramer's amateurish, ugly crap. And here's a bonus: Gibbons is the first artist in a long time to draw Power Girl without cartoonishly oversized bazooms. It's bad enough that Power Girl's costume has a "cleavage porthole" where most other superheroes would have a letter or symbol. Of course, for most fanboys, gargantuan teats are as much a symbol of Power Girl as bats are a symbol of Batman. The bulk of this issue focuses on Doctor Mid-Nite and Mister Terrific. They perform an autopsy on Sue Dibny in costume because really, why take those things off even for a moment? Doctor Mid-Nite declares that he knows who killed Sue. Not that he's going to say who that is. That has to wait for...

Identity Crisis #6 by Brad Meltzer, Rags Morales, and Michael Bair.
And even then he doesn't give a name. Mid-Nite and Batman independently conclude that Sue Dibny's murderer has the ability to shrink to microscopic size, which of course means she was killed by their fellow superhero, the Atom, because-- huh? Never mind that the Atom's internal monologue from a few issues back contradicts this idea. So it's either a case of mind control or another frigging red herring, or this whole series has been a brilliant scheme to resurrect the Silver Age Wonder Woman villain, Mouse Man. (That would ROCK!) Also, in a scene with disturbing undertones and overtones, Robin undresses as he rushes to his father's freshly murdered corpse. I just hope all of this is leading somewhere. I swear, if DC is jerking me around again like they did with "Millennium" and "Genesis" and "Invasion" and "Underworld Unleashed" and... huh. What was I talking about? Oh yeah. If the next issue sucks, I'm never buying another DC "event" series ever, ever again. And this time I really mean it.

Plastic Man #12 by Scott Morse.
HUGE disappointment. I skipped the last Scott Morse fill-in but I thought I'd give this one a try. Well, it sucks. The entire issue is one interminable fight scene that manages to be both frantic and boring, and the dialogue is pun-filled but not funny. Topped off by Morse's signature muddy coloring, the whole package gives me a migraine.

Firestorm #7 by Dan Jolley, Liam Sharp, and Andy Lanning.
I'm no more interested in this version of Firestorm than I was in the original, but I do like this issue's guest star, Bloodhound. So, what makes the new Firestorm different from the old one, besides the refreshing absence of puffy sleeves? For starters, his dad's an abusive bastard! Yeah, not interested in reading more about that, thank you very much. This issue, Firestorm makes the mistake of absorbing a badass criminal who'd just given him a concussion, so the criminal takes over Firestorm's body. The criminal (who sports a wraparound head tattoo, which is perfectly inane) goes after his old enemy, Bloodhound. This continues in...

Bloodhound #5 by Dan Jolley, Leonard Kirk, and Robin Riggs.
Now, this is more like it. I know I should hate this book but I can't help it. It's the comic book version of one of those straight-to-video Deathwish/Diehard ripoffs that star Joe Don Baker or some martial arts nobody, and I hate that kind of thing. Jolley elevates it somehow and turns all this blood-soaked mayhem into an art. What I love about Bloodhound, the character, is that in a fight he'll use anything he can get his hands on, up to and including the kitchen sink. This issue, he gets the best of three armed men, using only a two-by-four. Needless to say, Mister Head-tattoo doesn't stand a chance.

"The Super-Power of Negative Thinking!" (Justice League of America #158)

About that cover: there's a small coloring error. As the interior artwork can attest, Ultraa's thighs are actually bare. Who wears short-shorts? Ultraa wears short-shorts!

The September, 1978 issue of "Justice League of America" begins with the Flash and Wonder Woman interrupting a museum robbery. The perpetrators are Poison Ivy and Mirror Master, and the felonious pair does a fine job of smacking down the superheroes. But then Ultraa bursts onto the scene! So they smack him down, too. Though temporarily blinded by Mirror Master, Wonder Woman zeroes in on his voice, which she likens to "a foghorn." Great. From now on, whenever I read Mirror Master's dialogue, I'm going to hear Harvey Fierstein. Wonder Woman calls upon her years of warrior training to... shove Mirror Master down. Mirror Master falls onto Poison Ivy, who has caught her right foot in part of a sound effect. And oh, how I wish I was making that up. Mirror Master manages to flip himself over and deliver a very impressive Rockette-style kick to Wonder Woman's noggin. With all three heroes down for the count, Mirror Master and Poison Ivy vanish, along with their loot: a sundial.

In a big, steaming pile of expository dialogue, Wonder Woman tells the Flash about her U.N. job, reminds him of the fact that they'd enjoyed dinner together the previous night (What the hell?) and explains that the sundial is "worthless." Ultraa flips out: "You mean -- those villains jeopardized the lives of innocent people -- for an object of no value? That is -- unconscionable! ...Any act which endangers life is an act of evil! Particularly the act of a super-being! We have such power... we could destroy all humanity!" Ultraa flies off in a huff (sound effect: "SWOOSH"), leaving the Flash and Wonder Woman thinking, basically, "What's his deal?" The museum's employees and patrons poke their heads through a door and ask if it's safe to come out. The Flash reacts to this perfectly sensible question like a total asshole, which is something of a recurring motif in this story. His scarlet forehead all a-wrinkle with consternation, the Flash marvels, "Have you been hiding here the whole time? --Cowering?" The civilians compare superhero battles to "a combination earthquake and hurricane." So it's like any given day in Japan, then. In a silent panel, Wonder Woman and the Flash look at each other like, "Do you believe these pussies?" But safely away from the powerless human cattle, the Flash admits that they may have a point.

Later, Chronos, the Tattooed Man, and the Scarecrow welcome Poison Ivy and Mirror Master to "the new headquarters of the Injustice Gang!" First-time visitor Poison Ivy can't help but notice that the Injustice Gang's hideout is in the former location of the Justice League's headquarters. (Now, that's a ballsy real estate agent. "Superman, I've found an anonymous group of motivated buyers for your property, and they're ready to close on the deal today!" "Great! Say, they're not evil, are they?" "Ummmm... no.") The super-crooks add the sundial to their other swag, which includes models of a windmill, an oil derrick, and a hydroelectric dam. The group's mastermind, a towering, cloaked figure, explains that the artifacts were left on Earth by an alien race that intended to return and use them to control "the power output of the entire planet... leaving Earth barren... and reducing man to savagery once more!" The other villains think this story is total bullshit, so they immediately start hassling him with questions like "If these aliens are so powerful, why haven't they come back like you said?" The cloaked man isn't about to stand for insubordination, so he either grows to about three stories tall, or levitates -- the panel composition makes it hard to tell. Either way, it leaves the rest of the Injustice Gang staring up at him, their elbows akimbo, and for some reason most of them are standing with their legs spread about three feet apart.

At the Justice League's new headquarters, the assembled superheroes dish about Ultraa, just in time for the hotpanted dynamo to hurtle through the wall. He uses a ray-gun to bathe the Justice League in "negative waves" which "affect your thinking... your ego... your entire personality -- negatively!" Those negative waves are like the 700 Club, moveon.org, and the Atkins Diet, all rolled into one! "Never again will you be able to use your super-powers!" Ultraa boasts. The Flash skids into a wall. (Sound effect: "CHWOMP." Just what, exactly, is that wall composed of? Rice Krispie squares?) Superman has a dramatic little hissyfit about his vulnerability to Kryptonite in an oddly drawn panel -- he looks like he's shadowboxing while passing a kidney stone. The rest of the superheroes give up without a fight. Ultraa next uses the ray-gun on the Injustice Gang -- secretly, and without bothering to stick around and see if it works or not -- so he has no idea that the "negative waves" have actually boosted their self-esteem.

Feeling pretty darned good about themselves, the Injustice Gang proceeds to cripple the world's energy supplies. The Justice League monitors convey images of a waterfall that has halted in mid-descent, a windmill that refuses to turn, and oil rigs that have gone dry. Since there is no interesting way of depicting malfunctioning solar panels, we instead get to see a mob of people who are all shivering and hollow-eyed because there is snow on top of their heads. Put on a fucking hat, you idiots! Ultraa insists on facing the Injustice Gang by himself. The Tattooed Man attacks him with a living hawk tattoo. The Scarecrow incapacitates Ultraa with "fear pellets." Chronos uses his "time-gun" to... well, it's never made clear just what effect the time-gun has. It shoots tiny little sundials. Maybe they're really itchy. The Justice League has to go save Ultraa's sorry ass, but there's the whole negative wave problem. Superman suggests that they act as a mutual support group and cheer one another on. The final three pages of this story depict the League triumphing over the Injustice Gang while spouting stomach-turning affirmations like "I have to believe in myself, in my own will! Have to fight... fight my greatest enemy... myself!" Oh, and the man in the cloak turns out to be the old Flash villain, Abra Kadabra. And he was about fourteen feet tall for most of the story because...? Never mind. I don't care. Superman looks askance at the now-chastened Ultraa, and wonders, "After this, can we ever trust him? What do we do with him now?" With "headache lines" emanating from his cranium (and mine), the Flash replies, "I wish I knew, Superman. Right now, that's one question I simply can't answer..." Because it's the bottom of the last page, and there's no more room! It's the comic book equivalent of "called on account of rain." The writer just rolls a giant tarp over the script and then everybody goes home.

Also in this comic: join the Sales Leadership Club, sell only eighteen boxes of personalized Christmas cards, and win a "color TV video game!" This was in 1978, so I'm going to make a wild guess, here: it's "Pong."