Trade Winds - Dark Horse Heroes Omnibus (Dark Horse)
by Graig Kent

There was a plethora of new superhero universes created in the 1990’s, thus there was sea of capes and tights in that chromium age to wade through. It seemed that during the speculation boom everyone was trying to get in the game: Malibu’s “Ultraverse”; DC’s Milestone and Impact imprints; Image’s various creator-owned universe; Valiant-come-Acclaim’s universe; Jim Shooter’s Defiant; Neal Adam’s Continuity and I’m sure many others I’m completely forgetting about. Dark Horse had made itself a name by respectably handling such cinematic properties as Aliens, Predator and Terminator (certainly much better than subsequent cinematic outings would), while also providing a home for writers and artists to try their hand at creating their own properties (Sin City, Hellboy). That they too would toss a hat into the superhero ring wasn’t much of a surprise, but the manner in which they did was.

Sure each publisher had something different to offer, a different theme or hook to separate themselves from the rest, and Dark Horse’s “Comics Greatest World” (CGW) wasn’t much different. Like Valiant or the Ultraverse, CGW aspired to weave a tight continuity, the main difference was Dark Horse had put together a brain trust (Mike Richardson, Barbara Kesel, Chris Warner, Jerry Prosser and Randy Stradley) that spent two to three years planning the universe and its characters, rather than bringing disparate creators together and seeing what they came up with then striving to tie it all together.

What came out of CGW was four different, compartmentalized environments for the character to inhabit and cross-over into, and it was noticeable almost from the get-go that these environments, and not the characters, were really the stars. Arcadia was a degrading city scape, an average big city which had begun to decay due to political corruption and its mafia scene. Golden City was an experimental utopia that no doubt wouldn’t last, either from pressures internal or external. Steel Harbor was a sludge pit, a city overrun by gangs, and where the divide was obvious between the haves and have-nots. Cinnibar Flats was a military base where, in the late-1930’s, a UFO embedded itself into the Earth, and subsequent to 1940’s nuclear testing, became the epicenter for the paranormal population eruption.

The original “Comics Greatest World” mini-series told a somewhat unified tale over 16 issues, each locale receiving a four-issue focus as written by one of the CGW brain trust (with Richardson providing a single page prologue set in the 1940’s that spanned the entire series), and each issue introduced a new character. It was evident that some of the characters were undeniably more interesting than others, that some were created to lead their own series while others were strictly conceptual or background figures, and that some were just better designed than others.

CGW started off with one of their strongest figures, X, Arcadia’s hardcore vigilante (melding the aesthetic of Batman with the ruthlessness of the Punisher), following up with the Pit Bulls (easily the weakest concept introduced in CGW), Ghost (which would prove to have the most longevity as a concept) and Monster (self-descriptive). Golden City featured Rebel (the ugliest superhero design you ever shall see, a mullet AND a mowhawk?), followed by Mecha (the first of many man-with-symbiotic-alien-entity characters in the line), Titan (the obligatory Captain Marvel/Superman analog) and finally the team book Catalyst: Agents of Change led by Golden City’s matriarch, Grace. Steel Harbor followed, leading in with the notorious Barb Wire, the Machine, Wolf Pack and Motorhead, all of which I remember being much cooler 15 years ago. Finally there was Cinnibar Flats, housing the creatures of Division 13, the Japanese giant robot-inspired Hero Zero, demon hunter King Tiger (the sole magic-based character), and the Heretic from Out Of The Vortex.

Each character/team is competently introduced, a difficult task given the 15-page span the writers had to do it in, also saddled with the over-arcing story of aliens investigating the after-effects of the Heretic’s experiments from the 1940’s (ie, the superpowered beings inhabiting the earth). X, Catalyst, Barb Wire and the Heretic each dominate their respective locales, and that they would each subsequently have their own series was obviously by design. Golden City and Catalyst were, at the time, the weakest concepts, given that the marketplace was skewing towards grim and gritty rather than the struggles of maintaining a Utopia, but now days as a concept it fares quite well. In fact Arcadia and, moreover, Steel Harbor seem more trite, given how well worn dark and dangerous has become. The artwork for the first mini-series was provided by numerous sources, most solid contributors, like Eric Shanower, Doug Mahnke, Adam Hughes, Paul Gulacy, and more. The covers were even more impressive, by mostly superstar talent from Frank Miller, Art Adams, and Mike Mignola to Jerry Ordway, Dave Johnson, Walt Simonson and more.

Overall CGW remains an engaging project, both from a comic-book history standpoint, and as a story, the unfortunate side is it’s meant as an introduction, leaving dangling threads everywhere for the respective series’ that sprang from it to pick up, including no finite resolution to the overall story arc that continued in the 12-part Out of the Vortex series.

The follow-up mini-series to CGW was Will To Power, a more character-focussed tale centering around Titan, who is extremely powerful but also naive and easily manipulated. Much in the same manner as CGW, Will To Power was presented as 12 weekly 16-page chapters, each locale (written by their respective brain trust writers, again with Richardson providing a one-page prologue for each chapter) receiving a 3-issue arc where Titan faces off with the heroes of that area. The overall story is quite enthralling, as Titan’s power grows along with his dementia, he becomes apparently unstoppable. Richardson’s 16-pages of prologue give the greatest sense of where his character is coming from - slowly revealed over the span of the mini - while each of the writers does a good job escalating the threat level Titan provides. The weakest link, however was the need for Titan to be transitioned to each of the different locations, abruptly ending any real conflict until the finale (although each sub-arc picks up nicely upon his arrival).

Again, if not more so, Will To Power, strongly presents the CGW design, the four-landmarks structure of the “Dark Horse Heroes” universe, and when read together it truly does highlight that fact. The artistic angle comes together somewhat tighter with the 3-chapter structure getting a dedicated artist in most cases (Mike Manley in Arcadia, Terry Dodson in Golden City, Chris Warner for the Vortex).

It may not have had the decades of history behind it DC or Marvel had, and it may not have blossomed into lasting or, frankly, highly memorable creations, but surprisingly, it all holds up pretty well and remains solidly entertaining. I have a personal bias towards dead universes so I find CGW to be even more intriguing now than I did 15 years ago, and some of the loose threads from the first miniseries have piqued my interest enough to hit the bins. The Omnibus provides a very concise and affordable place to begin if you ever were curious about Dark Horse’s superhero line, and its a great place to start if you’re looking for some back-issue bin-diving to do.

Full disclosure: I didn’t actually acquire a copy of the monstrous 488-page collection, but rather I shuffled off into the cellar and retrieved the original bagged-and-boarded issues of Dark Horse’s “Comics Greatest World” and Will To Power mini-series. Yes, I purchased these series on their initial release, in a weekly, 16-page, $1 ($1.25 Canadian) format (do the math, here: there’s essentially 28 issues here, which in 1992/1993 dollars was worth $28. At a cover price of 24.95, you’re already saving $3, not accounting for inflation or interest. Not bad at all).


THREE OUT OF FIVE VIKINGS

Trade Winds: Tom Strong Book Six (DC)
by Adam Prosser

Ahhhh…at last.

Alan Moore’s post-Watchmen career arc has been fascinating to me. Despite his punk-rock attitude, he was famously dismayed by what happened to the superhero genre in the wake of his masterpiece; rather than providing one take among many, the “Watchmen” mentality of deconstructionist, “real world” superheroes existing in a dark, dreary, morally ambivalent world in which all the zany fun had been drained out quickly became the default position for the genre. Moore responded first by ducking out for a decade or so, working on “From Hell” and some other projects that didn’t get off the ground. Then, when Image comics came along, he took advantage of their anarchic mentality to return to superheroes on his own terms. First he toiled forgettably (for him) on stuff like Spawn and Wild C.A.T.s, but then, starting with 1963, he launched a series of retro, silver age-style comics that represented an attempt to reconnect comics with their vast and interesting history. The culmination of this came in theABC line, embodied by two comics: Tom Strong and Promethea.

Tom Strong was essentially “Doc Savage with richer subtext”. An instantly iconic adventure strip character, Tom was a superscientific strongman born at midnight, January 1st, 1900, and raised to be the ideal human by his rather cold-hearted father. After his parents’ death he was raised by a lost tribe on a remote jungle island, then picked up the mantle of scientist-adventurer and proceeded to have a century of adventures (thanks to a life-extending medicinal plant) with his family and companions. His adventures were an encapsulation of comics history over the course of the 20th century, involving everything from Nazis to space travel to lava people to parallel realities. What was really great, though, was the way Moore wove strong characterization into the background. Strong’s credo is one of optimism, rationality and a determination to solve problems; his greatest strength and his greatest weakness is that his upbringing left him emotionally detached and sometimes coldly logical; his family and friends, especially his wife Dhalua, have redeemed his humanity, but his thought processes can still be slightly strange, at least in the more serious stories.

Unfortunately, this aspect of the book is quite subtle, and when Moore left, most of the writers who took over focused more on the “high adventure” aspect of the stories. This volume collects the final issues of the series, written by various writers, and while there’s plenty of fun stuff here, only the last story, written by a returning Moore, gets to the heart of the character. The initial two-parter is by Michael Moorcock - yes, that Michael Moorcock - and it’s a fun tale of piratical adventure across time and space involving some of Moorcock’s own characters, though unfortunately it slips into incoherence in a few key places; I don’t know if that’s Moorcock’s fault or artist Jerry Ordway’s, but the procession of events in some of the action panels don’t make a lot of sense. Joe Casey scripts a story about a journey into the electronic brain of Tom’s robot butler Pneuman, which is fine but forgettable. Much better is Steve Moore’s (no relation) The Spires of Samakhara, in which Tom finds himself in a real-world lost city that seems to be based on an old pulp story; Moore does a great job of capturing the surreal style of some of the more obscure early pulp stories.

Peter Hogan wraps up a story that he had begun in volume Five, involving the return of an old, supposedly-dead lover of Tom’s, along with an old, supposedly-dead villain; while the resolution is in keeping with the book’s style and subtext, it’s a little bit limp and relies a bit too much on contrivance. The problem with non-Alan Moore Tom Strong stories is that there’s something weirdly superficial about them; they “fit” well enough, not just plot-wise but emotionally as well, and yet there’s something hollow about everything. I think it’s the fact that, without Alan Moore’s propulsive long-form story arcs, the book lacks momentum. It’s just a series of disconnected events, without a firm authorial hand to tie it all together.

But the final story is scripted by Alan Moore himself, and wraps up some plot threads left over from the books’ main run, so it’s got to be great, right? Well, yes and no. You see, Tom Strong is part of a “universe” of books under the ABC imprint, and those books came to an end that was tied into the other major comic, Promethea. Promethea was a frustrating comic, often brilliant, but it was meant as a vehicle for Moore’s odd ideas about mysticism and creativity, and those sometimes overwhelmed the actual narrative. When Promethea triggered the apocalypse in the final issues, instead of being an exciting climax, it turned into a fourth-wall breaking lecture about Moore’s spirituality, and the plot was completely suspended. The final issue of Tom Strong, unfortunately, revisits this storyline, so that while there are some interesting plot threads wrapped up (including a plot twist which I’d guessed earlier, but which was expertly set up and paid off) and a nice emotional catharsis for Tom, the issue is uncharacteristically static and devoid of action. Even if you think that’s fine for Promethea, it simply isn’t true to Tom Strong; he’s a guy who would go out swinging, even in the face of Armageddon.

All of which isn’t to say that this isn’t a fun book, full of imagination and old-fashioned adventure. It’s just a shame it was never able to satisfactorily wed the emotional and the physical in the way Moore seems to have intended. The result is a book some might find enjoyably angst-free, and others might find lacking substance - but it’s certainly worth a look to anyone who’s followed Tom’s adventures up to this point.


THREE AND A HALF OUT OF FIVE VIKINGS

Trade Winds - JLA Presents: Aztek The Ultimate Man tpb 1 (DC)
by Graig Kent

Back in 1996 Grant Morrison wasn’t THE Grant Morrison he is today. The Grant Morrison of 1996 was Arkham Asylum’s Grant Morrison, or Doom Patrol’s/Animal Man’s/The Invisibles‘ Grant Morrison… all very Vertigo, which to the core superhero contingent meant “weird”, and rightfully so. ’90’s superhero readers weren’t into weird… they were into shoulder armor, excessive ink lines, big boobs and lots of titles that included the letter “x” (I’ve recently been inventorying my comics collection and you’d be surprised how many titles there were with the letter “x” in it that weren’t at all mutant related). Similarly, Mark Millar of 1996 was not the Mark Millar we know today (which, given your particular disposition towards his writing might be a good thing)… he wasn’t The Ultimates‘ Mark Millar or Fantastic Four’s/Wanted’s/The Authority’s Mark Millar, no, he was rather just “who the hell is” Mark Millar.

Anyway the two Scots superstars paired up for a few assignments in the mid-90’s which, I think for many fans, culminated in this briefly lived but cherished original superhero concept. Say what you will about the 1990’s (and I talk a lot of smack about the era) DC did try a lot out a lot of concepts which you have to give them credit for (although, similarly, they pulled the rug out from under a lot of concepts before they really had a chance to get a foothold). Of course, much of them were utter trash (I don’t think anyone’s bemoaning the loss of Gunfire or Xenobrood [there’s one] or Firebrand, but I’m sure I’d be surprised) but then a few gems, like Chase, Xero [there’s another] and Primal Force barely lived long enough for the devotees to rally a counter-cancellation protest.

I missed out completely on Aztek at the time - which is surprising given my ’90’s predisposition to trying out pretty much any DC title - and I have had intentions to get to it, having heard nothing but good things about it over the years since cancellation. Obviously the names attached to the title carry more weight than they ever did, and Aztek’s role in Morrison’s seminal JLA run (or his appearance in the Justice League Unlimited cartoon) I’m sure more than perplexed the many fans who hadn’t read the title, so a trade has been long overdue.

I wasn’t certain what to expect out of Aztek, even though I literally just re-read Morrison’s JLA issues (lots of seeds planted for Final Crisis, fyi), Aztek’s role in that series was minor, and characterization of him is almost nil. The opening page of the first issue finds a stark, full-page pin-up of a dorky looking character called “the Piper”, and the revelation that follows is he’s a former supervillain being blackmailed into re-emerging by robbing a bank and facing the local super-hero, a psychopathic Punisher-analogue called Bloodtype. From there we meet a young, blond man, obviously our hero, who’s come to the city named Vanity on a mission: to wait for the Shadow God to appear and confront him. It’s not a very proactive mission, so this man searches for an identity, a job, an apartment, and it’s clear that he’s not stupid or naive, but he is a stranger to the surroundings.

Convergence: he winds up at the bank which the Piper has come to hold up, and Bloodtype has come to annihilate the criminal. Transforming into the avatar of the Aztec god Quetzalcoatl, he intervenes, although, unlike most superheroes, it’s not with force. Instead, he talks, resorting to fisticuffs and other such actions as a last resort. Everything turns sour for both the Piper and Bloodtype and our hero winds up becoming the city’s new protector and obtaining the secret identity of the Piper: Dr. Curt Falconer.

Throughout the series we learn how distinctively different a superhero Aztek is. For starters, he’s just doing the superhero thing to bide his time, just as he’s doing the secret identity thing. It’s almost as if the Shadow God can’t appear soon enough for him. Along the way, he meets Green Lantern, Batman and Superman, as well he’s put through his paces facing off against numerous, newly-created bizarre villains as well as the Joker. This isn’t a story though of a young man who’s new to his powers and inexperience in fighting or tactical combat or problem solving. No, it becomes fairly clear that, while young, Aztek is clearly expertly trained in using his powers and resolving problems other than by force. The series actually has a fairly comedic undercurrent in exploiting the typical problems of the new hero by clearly acknowledging that Aztek is more than up to any challenge he faces. There’s no “gosh wow” to him, just the occasional moment of “huh, never dealt with this before” (which happens more often in his private life than in his superhero life, such as his complete inability to interact women). There’s an over-arcing reason for all that happens to the character, and it’s partially revealed here (and expanded on a bit more in JLA).

The environment Aztek calls home, Vanity, is a strange place, a city constantly under development, and apparently the map of the city changes virtually daily. I got a sense that there was a greater mystery being built around the city itself (as the mystery of Aztek, his homeland, and his benefactors are all laid bare by the series end, if quite unresolved), and that there was something malevolent about the city itself, the film Dark City coming to mind.

The first three issues featured backmatter which would prove inconsequential by the series end, but the second issue’s superhero registration card is utterly hilarious, while the third issue’s book review offers insight into Vanity’s creation (and creator).

It is unfortunate that the threads Morrison and Millar were sewing within the series will ever get left unfulfilled, and since Aztek’s self-destruction in Morrison’s final JLA issue, there’s no real means to go back to Aztek’s supporting cast or any dangling plot threads. However, the series doesn’t exactly end with a huge question mark either. Issue nine presents a few snippets of what would have come, but issue ten (purposefully) inaugurates Aztek into the JLA and allows things to move forward from there (however little things actually did move forward). That said, Vanity is a very curious place which will never be the next Metropolis or Gotham, but could easily fit with the Opal City/Coast City/Keystone City etc. mapping of DC’s America. Another (Morrison-written) hero should surely take residence there so that it’s unusual landscape can be further explored.

Nothing in Aztek: The Ultimate Man is typical, even spoofs of superheroes don’t do this entertaining a job of toying with conventions. Though character died in the year 2000 (JLA #41), built into the character already was the notion of legacy, so I won’t be surprised if we see Aztek reemerge. This was a fine and fun enough read to make for a character worthy of being nostalgic about. Certainly a standout amongst most comics of the 1990’s, and barely feeling dated, if at all.


THREE AND A HALF OUT OF FIVE VIKINGS