Solomon Kane #1

I don’t know why though. It’s like I’m caught up in the hype from the early days of Conan, back when it seemed like Dark Horse could do no wrong on that series. I suppose I should head over to Dark Horse’s MySpace page and check out the preview. I’m actually not impressed with the art page in previews… the proportions and perspective all look off, like artist Mario Guevera is desperate to invoke the mighty Image boys of the 1990s. But Scott Allie had a real enthusiasm for Robert E. Howard, based on those Conan letter pages. Might be the first time I’ve ordered a book because of someone’s editorial exuberance.

Speak of the Devil HC

I’ve always preferred Jaime to Beto; those early Maggie stories had such invention, while Beto lost it in Palomar (though, he lost it similar to how Gabriel Garcia Márquez lost it in One Hundred Years of Solitude). The first Los Bros. book I ever read was a Beto, actually. It was Grip: The Strange World of Man and, wow, did I hate it. But I’ve heard good things (I think) about Speak of the Devil. So, it’s a definite maybe, if not a definite buy already.

B.P.R.D. Volume Nine: 1946 TPB

After reading this series in floppies, I was ready to go out and buy the B.P.R.D. library. I could ramble on, but it’d all basically just be the same stuff I said in my response here.

DC

Trinity 14-17

I finally have the first three issues, but I haven’t read them yet. I supposed I am, therefore, the perfect comic book reader (sorry, consumer). I buy comics without knowing if they’re any good and go so far as to ignore edifying myself when all it’ll take is fifteen minutes. Still, I do like Busiek’s superhero stuff… so I’m moderately hopeful.

The War That Time Forgot #5

Sanity will probably prevail and I’ll stop ordering this title (it’s hard to conceive of it running twelve issues, having read the first). On the other hand, as a Who’s Who faithful from the 1980s, this issue’s promise of G.I. Robot is more than I can resist. I don’t think I’ve read a G.I. Robot story since I was seven years old.

Batgirl #3

I keep hoping it’ll be expanded to an ongoing, but I guess it’s a little soon. I don’t think the first issue has even streeted yet.

Batman Confidential #21

The last of the Kevin Maguire Batgirl and Catwoman issues (and my last Batman Confidential order for the foreseeable future).

Checkmate #30

Having read the wonderful first issue, half the solicit makes sense. The other half does not. If I had not read the first issue, none of the solicit would make sense. Exactly what DC should be going for. And doesn’t Jones get first dibs on writing the text? If he wrote this one, it’s like he was trying to fit it in a twitter.

Watchmen: The Absolute Edition

I did not get the original printing. I’m not making that mistake again.

Crossing Midnight Vol. 3: The Sword in the Soul TP

I was going to read the second trade a couple weeks ago and realized I didn’t remember what happened in the first one. My friend told me to just wait until it was finished and read it all… too bad Vertigo isn’t nice enough to give all their short-run (i.e. cancelled) titles final trades. In other words, give me that last Dysart Swamp Thing!

Marvel

Ultimate Origins #4

I haven’t read an Ultimate title in years. So long I can’t remember the last floppy bought… probably the last of Ellis’s Ultimate Fantastic Four. Still, I have fond memories of Ultimate Spider-Man and am curious to see what Bendis has had (partially or fully) up his sleeve for the past eight years.

Fantastic Four: True Story #3

High concept from Marvel? McDuffie’s recent FF run also made me (along with the movies) mildly more interested and this one’s concept made it desirable. This issue, with a promised Dracula vs. Frankenstein–the literary figures–fight, will probably be a defining one. The idea of mixing the two in that original senses is silly and problematic. I’ve been hearing good things about Paul Cornell, so hopefully he does something with it.

Captain America #42

I love Brubaker’s anti-neo-con subtext, but the real draw has been his excellent character writing. It’ll be a shame when Steve Rogers comes back.

Ghost Rider #27

I actually haven’t read any of Jason Aaron’s Marvel superhero stuff yet. I probably ought to get around to it.

Invincible Iron Man #5

And I still haven’t gotten to this series yet either. But Fraction is certainly on a high right now.

Secret Invasion: Thor #2

My only Secret Invasion colon book. Again, Fraction.

Black Panther #41

Fine, technically a Secret Invasion tie-in though. And Aaron.

True Believers #3

Bates was always a DC guy, right? I remember he was on The Flash with Infantino back when it had Firestorm back-ups. It’s too curious not to check out.

Sub-Mariner: The Depths #1

Peter Milligan can be decent, great and atrocious. His Marvel work has ranged. I was going to let this one pass and I probably should, but I feel like it might be something interesting. I’m hoping anyway.

Uncanny X-Men #502

It’s Brubaker, it’s Fraction. I haven’t read the book in a while, no idea what’s going on. But I bet it’ll be good, dumb action fun.

X-23: Innocence Lost TPB

Speaking of good action fun. My friend recommended this one to me and I couldn’t believe it, but then it turned out to be a great time. I guess the trade’s been oop for a while, so I’m going to grab it up when I get the chance. The sequel has never been traded though, has it?

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I discovered Bruce Jones’s 1980s works (Somerset Holmes, Silverheels, some others) just before he quit Marvel to go to DC. I still got to read his Hulk, which provided occasionally mediocre, but mostly fantastic (as evidenced in the latest film adaptation, where the Jones details are some of the best), but his DC work has been crap.

After that excellent Legends of the Dark Knight story (Darker Than Death, #207-211), the majority of his DC work has been awful. Nightwing, OMAC, Vigilante. All are astoundingly bad. Jones’s dialogue is fast and brief and terrible. His characters speak in rhetorical questions. Even his Vertigo Deadman, full of ideas and with John Watkiss’s lovely art, is plagued with those dialogue problems. It’s like a part of his brain has shut off (Jones so wonderfully turned an issue of Hulk into a conversation about poetry), as exclusive contracts at the Big Two tend to afflict.

Recently, he took over for (back to Marvel?) Greg Rucka on Checkmate and started up The War That Time Forgot, which can’t be inspired by the sales the DC Showcase of the same name, can it?

Checkmate opens in Iraq, or wherever people in the DC Universe are killed by Muslims who love American guns live. It’s a cinematic opening, but I’ve got a good memory for Robocop and I’ve actually seen Universal Soldier recently, so it’s clear form the third page, with the line “Might be just what they’re looking for” what’s going on. That line also shows they problem with Jones’s writing, which I’m sure I’ve mentioned before. Jones seems to think omitting pronouns makes dialogue sound more natural. Maybe once or twice, or if Jones were going for a tonal dialogue (like Kubrick tries a little bit in The Shining), but in comic books? It’s painful and immature… and not a problem Jones always had.

As mysterious things happen in a Venezuelan jungle, the Checkmate doctors turn Robocop… sorry… “Sharp. Adam Sharp. Used to be good-looking” into a big bald monster. There’s some lousy backstory with the guy’s family–his widowed mother and his fiancée-to-be–starting at the funeral, of course. What’s so funny is how everyone–the mother, the Checkmate doctors–make a big deal about the girlfriend being a world religions major. Like world religions majors are secret agents in training. The line, “Your life’s work is studying religions,” is something I will hold near and dear. How inspirational.

This lovely scene (Manuel Garcia breaks the comic norm–at least these days–by making Sharp’s mother real ugly) is followed by another mysterious occurrence. This time in Antarctica, where the natives are ice fishing. Apparently, in the DC Universe, there are Inuit-like folks in Antarctica too. And polar bears hanging with the penguins (call Gary Larson).

Then there’s a medical scene where something goes wrong, but it’s impossible to tell what. Monster Sharp’s spinal cord basically just steams after having something called “Number 2″ spilled on it. It’s partially Garcia’s fault, partially not… the issue doesn’t leave much room, in its two page scenes, for him to visually explain much.

But the next scene, when it’s revealed Sharp now emulates anything he fights (an unexpected side effect as Checkmate was trying to turn him into a super soldier… sorry, all-weather soldier). There’s a gratuitous bear killing scene, in which Sharp turns into a were-bear. It’s as dumb as it sounds and even with Garcia’s art, it just looks silly.

The issue ends with a giant monster (apparently the other two mysterious occurrences were monsters too) attacking Beijing, Sharp’s girlfriend having a sexy dream about him and realizing he’s alive, and Checkmate revealing Sharp under his “superhero” name, Chimera. Chimera also appears, in the full light on the last page, to have a pug nose.

The War That Time Forgot also appears to have giant monsters in it, at least if the cover is any indication, but they’re dinosaurs… not giant horned guys.

The series seems to be a throwback to the pre-Didio days of DC, when the company regularly published limited series unconnected to the major, company-wide story lines. This one reminds me of Guns of the Dragon, Tim Truman’s limited featuring a bunch of DC’s forgotten characters (Enemy Ace, Bat Lash) having high adventure. Maybe it’s because Enemy Ace shows up in War That Time Forgot.

But this series is apparently rather false advertising. Though the front cover suggests a World War I or II cast of characters, there’s a guy fighting in Vietnam and a future lady with a space ship. It appears the island draws cast members of all eras, just so long as they’re fighting in a war. Technically, it’s a cute play on the title, but, practically, I go into something with “That Time Forgot” in the title and I’m thinking Doug McClure. And this series does have certain elements of Edgar Rice Burroughs to it, particularly the jungle fortress.

Jones’s dialogue is as poor as ever, though it could just be the terrible way he starts the issue. He opens with a dogfight and proceeds to have the pilot explain, in dialogue, everything he’s thinking and doing (since, even if Al Barrionuevo zoomed in on the cockpit controls, the reader wouldn’t know what he was doing). All I could think was how thought balloons would make the whole thing serviceable, instead of stupid. There’s an acknowledgement of artifice to comic book reading… thought balloons are far more “realistic” than exposition given by a guy talking to himself.

Once the pilot gets to the island–I can’t remember his name and refuse to look it up, because he’s nothing more than one of Jones’s white guy leads, just like Checkmate–he has an encounter with Tomahawk. This encounter gets really stupid as soon as the Vietnam guy shows up, because Tomahawk and his sidekick’s treatment of white guy suggest they’ve never seen a future man before… then Jones immediately reveals they know exactly what’s going on with the island. Apparently, everyone does, so it isn’t particularly interesting.

There’s a fight scene with a rhinoceros, the revelation everyone on the island magically speaks English upon arrival, the trip to the fort and the appearance of Enemy Ace. It was around then I was really wishing for some Tim Truman, both in writing and art. The leader doesn’t like white guy. White guy notices there’s an ominous volcano (shades of Burroughs to come?). There’s an attack on the fort, then a fight with a T-Rex, then the alien lady shows up. It’s a barrel of stupid monkeys, apparently picked for their disuse in any other DC publication.

Barrionuevo’s art is slick–a little too slick for a DC book, it’s strange how their third tier titles used to be better illustrated… and what War needs is a good artist to sell the book, since the concept is idiotic. I mean, there’s which is going to lead to some dumb(er) issues down the line. The book’s got that lovely Neal Adams cover and that cover implies a class to the comic the content doesn’t provide. Jones’s plotting reminds me of a Saturday morning cartoon instead of a comic book. It’s shocking how clearly disinterested he is in telling this story.

After reading Checkmate, I figured War That Time Forgot had to be better.

I was wrong.

I wish I’d thought just to call the protagonist in the first one white guy too, but I didn’t realize Jones would be so lazy with books coming out concurrently. Hopefully it’ll get worse (Checkmate will unintentionally continue in War That Time Forgot and vice versa).

Bemoaning the state of the mainstream comic doesn’t seem like a fun idea (or a useful one) but I would like to end this post on a high note.

It’d just be way too hard.

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So, it definitely shouldn’t be called The Education of Hopey Glass. It’s a good title, but whereas Hopey’s adventures immediately leading up to her new job are good and all… it’s all about Ray’s story. Ray’s story kicks all kinds of butt.

It consists of seven chapters, usually only running a couple pages, and is all about Ray having a thing for Viv (Frogmouth), who doesn’t seem to have a thing for him. Complexing the situation is their mutual history with the occasionally present Maggie–Ray once dated her (I probably read about this relationship in Locas, but I’ve forgotten) and so did Viv. What ties this story to Hopey’s is that longing for Maggie, even though I’ll guess and say both Hopey and Ray are responsible for not having her.

But in Ray’s story, the desperate longing, the palpable regret, are things of beauty. Hernandez does each chapter a little different style-wise and the first, in noir-style (though the Incredible Shrinking Man reference isn’t very noir), did not impress me. I read it as a strip, not a chapter.

The second story kicks off the story proper–it’s Ray clinging to Viv, hoping she take him into her bed, while he sorts through all of the drama in her life (it’s never clearly explained, at least in the collection, what happens, but Ray thinks Viv’s friends kill her shithead boyfriend and so, then, does the reader). It becomes all very conversational–the second story is a long conversation about getting some keys–and Hernandez writes great narration for Ray.

The loneliness and the self-loathing are big points here. Hernandez never tries to make Ray particularly likable, but he’s likable anyway, as most self-loathing, passive protagonists tend to be.

Gradually, the narration takes over and Hernandez and Ray make all these wonderful (if depressing) observations.

And since it’s Love and Rockets, there’s a fantastic staring at the ceiling dream sequence.

Hernandez has some great panels–the tone frequently changes here, so he gets to do cartoon, noir and romantic drama (usually all in the same chapter). What I found most striking was the idealized Maggie. Not having read Rockets after Locas (until now), I find the perpetually unhappy Maggie a little strange (but it makes sense, I guess). Here, Ray’s got an idealized Maggie, much different from the always frowning, real one.

Art-wise, I think the noir chapter has to be the best, just because it gives Hernandez the most opportunity to crack his knuckles. The last chapter takes place at a comic con and it’s Jaime Hernandez name-dropping a bunch of indie guys… and it’s kind of cool, but it feels a little wrong… like he’s let Love and Rockets get hipster.

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I bought The Education of Hopey Glass thinking it was new–something about Fantagraphics’s solicitation text. Then I found out it was a collection of Love and Rockets Vol. II material and was fine (I don’t have any of the issues… my Love and Rockets collection consists of Palomar and Locas, as I gave away the first collection to a friend discovering comics–she wanted to know what to read after Watchmen and I figured, why not a little Love and Rockets when the rockets still played a major part).

The book’s a lovely hardcover, though the blackboard motif is confused on the back (the picture would be white on green, you know, chalk). There’s seven plus years between these stories and the ones I last read in Locas, not to mention four years since I read Locas. It’s been a while, while Hopey and Maggie still riding off together (even though a friend warned me it wasn’t going to last).

Jaime’s a lot different as an artist here than he was twenty years ago. The first piece in the collection, “Day by Day With Hopey,” is a set of seven shorts (ranging from four to twelve pages), chronicling an eventful and not eventful week for Hopey. She’s changing careers, which gives Jaime the chance to explore the fellowship–the camaraderie–people have with their co-workers. It’s only one of the days–and not even all of it (the biggest constant in the piece is Hopey and girlfriend Rosie)–but it really resonates. I think it’s in that scene–there’s one panel with an absurd expression on Hopey’s face–when I realized how different Jaime’s approach had become.

As a reintroduction to Love and Rockets, “Day by Day” is a lengthy rumination on restlessness and unhappiness. When Maggie does show up, she and Hopey’s relationship is a whole lot different than the last time I read the book. During this sequence, Jaime has a brief moment (I guess she’s a recurring character) with a superhero coming home for the night. This kind of detail shouldn’t seem so strange to me, but it really does. Gone are the days of dinosaurs.

Reading “Day by Day” as my return to Love and Rockets is probably a bad idea. I can appreciate a lot of things, but since I’m coming into it not knowing what’s going on… it’s problematic. Maggie shows up for the last “Day,” and it’s a touching scene. Hopey’s just started her job as a paraprofessional at a grade school (which encouraged a lengthy flashback to a Peanuts-influenced account of Hopey’s childhood) and Maggie comes to see how she’s doing. Even if I don’t know the context, the conclusion gives me some footing–Maggie smiling always was a good moment.

Jaime’s art has definitely got more comic strip-like, except for his still perfect close-ups.

I decided to split up my reading of the book for a couple reasons. First, since I’m so damn lazy about reading comics, but also because I wanted to give each section a chance to resonation. Oh, and third because what if one sections a little… lighter than the rest. I started reading the “Angel of Tarzana” strips and heavy they aren’t.

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If I recall correctly, Morrison’s only really cliffhung All-Star Superman once. Last issue, he did not, instead doing an intricately jumbled timeline with a real conclusion. This issue, he wraps up some of the things he talks about in the previous issue, but doesn’t show… namely, the new costume and a big fight. So there’s a great fight scene, featuring the Fortress of Solitude robots no less, but as usual, the issue’s greatest moments are Morrison’s human details.

Morrison’s got a great scene with Jimmy and Lois, even if it only lasts two pages, as they face off against Lex’s loony niece (who knew Morrison would do a Superman IV: The Quest for Peace homage?). Then there’s the scenes with Superman getting ready to leave the Fortress (for good). Or his face off with the villain. Early in the issue, Lex’s niece dismisses Superman as an annoying boy scout and Lex responds, telling her not to discount him in a fight. This issue shows both sides of that coin and beautifully.

At one point, Superman talks about he and Batman’s fantastic adventures and it plants the idea of a Morrison-penned World’s Finest, which gives me goosebumps.

But this issue definitely has a different feel to it. It starts and ends with Lex and, while Morrison’s love of the characters is still present, it’s very much about the narrative here. Being the second to last issue drives it, while Morrison’s approach to the characters and his enthusiasm for them give it shape. It’s just a little more epical than usual.

A

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This issue barely qualifies as a Werewolf by Night, with Isabella focusing mostly on Tigra. Jack Russell shows up for the first couple pages (he forgets it’s going to be a full moon, down in Mexico on vacation). Then he turns into the werewolf and stays the werewolf the rest of the issue. There’s even a sequence where the werewolf gets knocked out for twenty-four hours (Jack sleeping through the human-time).

But the issue’s darn good. Isabella writes Tigra well–it’s her origin as a cat-woman here–and comes up with an interesting bit for the werewolf. In explaining why the werewolf thinks to fight alongside her, it’s because the werewolf’s developed a crush. The end of the comic, after the crush is broken and the werewolf is alone, Isabella comes up with the simplest, yet most effective moment in the series so far. A single “third night” panel with the werewolf alone.

What Isabella does, using the werewolf as a supporting character (though Jack’s ever-present narration is ever-present), is give the werewolf (not Jack) some real development. Isabella writes the creature as lonely and somewhat confused, sympathetic and… human. The closest the series writers have ever come is with the werewolf’s concern for family members.

Perlin’s art here is also better than it is in the regular book. The werewolf looks less goofy–maybe Perlin just needs him in an action setting versus a horror one.

As for Tigra’s story, it’s a good cat people versus Hydra yarn. Isabella brings a lot of humor into it (Hydra members chastising each other and so on) and some good character development ones too. Isabella’s exposition is also real nice.

It’s a shame this issue is the best Werewolf by Night in so long.

B+

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I thought, hoped and deluded myself the previous issue of Fallen Angel was an aberration. Sure, David’s had some iffy issues, but he was on a peak the last few years with Fallen Angel and X-Factor. Then, apparently, he fell off.

While this issue has better art than the last–J.K. Woodward’s attempts at conveying movement, the same motion lines I used as a six year-old, are pitiful however… Woodward’s a static artist–the writing might even be worse.

I’m going to spoil the ending, just because it’s stupid. New magistrate Jude is confessing his sins–Lee shows up for a panel this issue–but who is he confessing his sins to? Bete Noire is priest-free. He’s confessing his sins to his clerical collar. Peter David, who’s been comic books for twenty-three years, makes a narrative move M. Night Shyamalan would call cheesy.

The rest of the comic is some moronic adventure in China (I’m guessing it’s something Communist, just because of the red star on the missile), about Jude trying to kill a dictator to make the world a safer place. Or something.

David doesn’t explore the idea killing a dictator and his number two might not be the best move (the dictator is more moderate than his number two here, so what’s the number three like?). Instead, he just tries to get Lee in for a panel.

This issue just furthers my suspicion DC is handicapping the amount of Lee appearances for the IDW series. At this point, given David’s concentrating on dumb characters, I’m jumping ship. What I’ll do with the remaining issues I purchased, I have no idea. The IDW paper is too slick to wipe with.

F

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When Lucius Fox and Alfred mysteriously run off to Paris together–after each receiving a telegram–does Bruce Wayne think the most obvious thing (an ebony and ivory gay marriage)?. Actually, we don’t know, because Conway never lets the reader know what Batman is thinking. Instead, Batman’s just a snoop. Admittedly, Lucius and Alfred running off to Paris together is a little strange, but who knows, maybe they’re just planning a surprise party for Bruce. Eventually, the contents of the telegram are revealed, but not until after Batman’s acted the control freak.

Once in Paris, there’s some great (hilarious) stuff with Batman introducing himself to the local police. There’s just something so wonderfully 1940s about it… Batman being an unofficial-official police detective or whatnot. It’s goofy, but somehow it really does work.

Finally–Conway paces the issues well, so my finally is referring to a first part revelation–it’s revealed both Lucius and Alfred are suspected of killing Mademoiselle Marie, a classic DC character. Well, then it’s revealed everyone knows Lucius didn’t kill her, they only invited him along to keep Alfred unaware, because Alfred is the suspect. And why doesn’t Alfred say anything in his own defense?

Because he’s the father of Mademoiselle Marie’s daughter. I love that DC let Alfred father a bastard. It’s fantastic.

The second issue is Batman solving the mystery. It gets a little confusing because Conway’s pace is so fast, it’s hard to keep track of all the Frenchmen.

Don Newton’s art here–as absurd as it is, Batman running around the Paris rooftops looks fantastic–is particularly good. There are some nice action scenes, but Newton’s Bruce Wayne, tourist, stuff is also good.

Conway’s story’s got a lot of effect–maybe because Alfred’s such a likable character. It’s a fine story, even if it features Bruce Wayne getting his ass kicked by an amateur.

B+

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A lot of Emperor Vulcan is good. Specifically, the first two issues. Yost has a solid handle on the characters, even if his dialogue is a tad expository and lame. Paco Diaz’s art is also better in the first two issues than in the last three, since I spent the last three repeatedly checking the credits, shocked by the drastic incompetencies appearing.

But overall, it’s a failure.

Following two Ed Brubaker stories–Deadly Genesis and The Rise and Fall of the Shi’ar Empire–this series was supposed to be about Havok going after crazy brother and new emperor Vulcan. It’s more about Havok and the Starjammers (the Starjammers never get called out by name, like the X-Men appearing in the title do, which is noticeable… especially since I don’t know the Starjammers as well as the X-Men) trying to sway Shi’ar to their side, to a revolt against Vulcan. It’s not even good political intrigue, because of Yost’s simplistic scope. But the characters are still compelling.

Then the big thing starts–it’s not a Winchester ‘73, it’s about a big, bad ass alien species (never before seen, of course) and fighting with them.

In the end, Yost pulls a Marvel Brubaker. He cuts off the story, leaving it incomplete, but unlike Brubaker… there’s no sign Yost’s going to get to finish it. Havok’s now more powerful than Vulcan, but is probably imprisoned along with the rest of the Starjammers–except lovebirds Korvus and Marvel Girl, who do have enough chemistry (under both Brubaker and Yost) to have a limited of their own.

Emperor Vulcan’s sales, I guess, were okay, but not enough to warrant a conclusion, which is bull. Brubaker passed the buck on finishing his story with Rise and Fall (regardless of its quality) and now so has Yost.

Maybe if Marvel wanted it to have better numbers, they should have got someone who’s art a browser wouldn’t laugh at.

D

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I’ve never read a Hellboy or B.P.R.D. comic before, but I knew I wanted to read 1946 (the Dysart, of course). I didn’t know anything about it besides the title, so when it turned out to be set in a divided Berlin (something familiar before from movies and study), I was immediately delighted. Whoever–Mignola or Dysart–researched it did a great job; the setting is both realistic and cinematic.

The issues themselves read faster than I would expect, just because there’s so much content. The story follows young professor Bruttenholm through bureaucracy for a bit, then kicks into a big Nazi vampire plan. It’s really terrible how the Nazis’ (specifically, Hitler’s) propensity for awfulness have given pop culture so many successful creations. My favorite part of 1946 has to be how they handle Bruttenholm’s Soviet counterpart (their occult specialist). It’s an ancient demon posing as a young girl. Besides the hilarious tea parties, watching everyone defer to the child is hilarious. The developing relationship between her and Bruttenholm is also one of 1946’s gems, since the rest of the supporting cast is real supporting. The first issue makes a big show of introducing Bruttenholm’s assigned soldiers, but they’re immediately unmemorable.

Mignola and Dysart take real advantage of the five issues, saving the majority of the action for the final one. Even though each issue–more or less, I think the third or fourth is a breeze–has a complete feel, there’s the overarching narrative, culminating beautifully in the fifth issue. What’s so nice about 1946 is how well the plot and the scenic writing mix. The plot’s got these wonderful revelations about the Nazis and the occult and their sinister plans (though there is one big historical booboo for the sake of sensationalism… the Nazis would never have plotted against the second-most anti-Semitic world power, the United States–I suppose since it wasn’t Hitler, it can be excused… as Hitler adored American anti-Semitism), while the scenes are all cinematic in the adjective’s best sense.

Paul Azaceta’s art’s good, as usual, and the whole thing has me wanting more B.P.R.D. Also, is there some edict little Hellboy has to be adorable?

A

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