Return Of The Gods!

 

When my comics collecting had begun to wane after the turn of the century, it was a welcome surprise to see a new volume of Thor appear on the stands in 2007--its third volume (if you're not counting the 1962-66 issues of Journey Into Mystery separately) and of particular interest, with its characters reappearing to chart their own destiny after having at last broken the cycle of Ragnarok and freeing themselves from the specter of doom which, given its perpetrators, had literally shadowed their existence. Initially plotted and written by J. Michael Straczynski, the volume would comprise thirty-five issues that would conclude in a series of crossovers which would see the end of Norman Osborn's rise to power, as well as the return of Steve Rogers to the land of the living.

This new series would have a bumpy ride in terms of its publishing schedule, going back and forth between a monthly and bi-monthly (even tri-monthly) status--in addition to mirroring the fluctuating issue numbering of other titles which resumed their original numbering at a certain point, with Thor taking advantage of its 600th issue by picking up that number after its first twelve issues. Yet it's the initial stories by Straczynski (who would depart the book after fifteen issues) which offer the most promise for the character--as Thor experiences a rebirth after nearly three years (our time) off the stands and, afterward, strives to seek out and return to a state of existence his fellow Asgardians. Yet Thor, himself, would be guided back to life by the last character we would expect--Donald Blake, whose final fate Straczynski glosses over using the essence of wonderment and the unknown, and who will come to play a compelling part in the formative issues of this series.

The Most Uncivil Civil War

 

Because of its ambitious crossover status, those of use who took an interest in Marvel's 2006-07 Civil War event were obliged to tweak its promotional slogan--"Whose side are you on?"--into something more practical: "Which books will you read?" Many of us probably just winged it, depending on our preferences, but for the most part we probably simply picked up the main seven-issue limited series in order to chart the progress and keep apprised of the clashes between the two major sides of the conflict, while deriving more substantive reading from the event's many, many tie-in books which offered greater perspective from those characters who were either directly or indirectly affected by the event, and certainly more in-depth examinations of their choices and feelings on the situation than what writer Mark Millar could provide for them in the core title. Yet it's Millar's work that we indeed turn our focus on here, since it is the book that all the others orbit around--and what takes place there allows him to pass the baton to his fellow writers, who take the handoff and shepherd their characters through whatever stage the conflict is currently at.

Several key developments, for instance, occur in Millar's story which other titles have already broached in one way or another. The repercussions of the incident in Stamford, CT; heroes attempting to take the temperature of both the government and the public; the swift passage of the Super-Human Registration Act; and of course the taking of sides which signify which heroes are resisting the SHRA and which are enforcing it. Given that the tie-ins are providing character-specific coverage of these developments and others that are relevant, Millar has the luxury of providing just enough detail to pique our interest and allow the story to gain momentum and keep it moving, all of which he handles well enough.

Revelation(s)!

Oh, Peter Parker. These little deceptions used to be so easy for you to pull off, didn't they.

Well, kiss those days goodbye, sport, because that was 1965--and these days, May Parker is going to want some answers from you, young man!

While it's true that Peter has had a number of narrow escapes from situations where his secret identity was at risk, he finally had to face the music in the 1990s (and even into the 2000s) when no less than three writers in five separate spider-titles decided to play a part in at last opening the eyes of Peter's Aunt May, the one person he strove to keep in the dark above all others about his double identity.

But, wait--three writers? Five different Spider-Man books? And this wasn't a crossover story? To that, we'd have to answer both yes and no--"yes," in that one of the stories was explained in more detail in another spider-title that crossed over to yet another, but "no" in regard to Aunt May discovering Peter's secret. Which means that, as odd as it sounds, May learned the truth about Peter, from Peter, on three separate occasions. That either adds up to a lot of confessing on Peter's part, or there's more to the situation than is evident.

To clear it all up, let's take each of these stories in sequence and try to bring some context to all of it. (A tall order when dealing with the chaotic nature of Marvel comics published in the decades bookending the turn of the century.)

One Life To Change The World

The 2007 series Bullet Points, while squarely falling into the category of a What If tale, has the advantage of being presented as a five-issue limited series, allowing it to take its time as it makes its way through four decades of Marvel history--a method of presentation which avoids cramming a dizzying number of alternate events into one issue and, in the process, reducing their impact on the reader. The story is definitely a notch or two above the typical What If tales that were released in the late '70s and '80s; yet while there is no Watcher who narrates the story and guides us through this book's startling developments, you'll find that it eventually takes on the same characteristics of its predecessors by the time it reaches its conclusion, as it suddenly turns to make its climax a spectacle of elements that had, up to that point, been so carefully and sensibly presented. That said, the bulk of its story is an enjoyable and thought-provoking read that is so well-handled in both story and art that it's a pleasure to simply take your time with it and allow it to do what most stories strive to accomplish: to hold your attention and make you feel for its characters.

Written by J. Michael Straczynski with art by Tommy Lee Edwards, Bullet Points follows the lives of four individuals--Steve Rogers, Reed Richards, and Peter Parker, and, to a certain extent, Bruce Banner--whose histories are radically different from what seasoned readers may be familiar with, all due to a single incident from the past. As for the series' unusual title, it's understandable if your first thought is of the bullet points commonly used in documents to list key points of a subject or discussion, followed by finding yourself perplexed as to how that relates to a comic book story. Instead, Straczynski uses the deadly efficiency of a bullet striking its target as a lead-in to illustrate how bullets--in some cases a single bullet--have been used throughout human history to cause death as well as change, with many of those deaths leading to unexpected historical consequences.

For instance, there likely aren't too many people familiar with Captain America who are unaware of Project: Rebirth and Abraham Erskine's assassination by a Nazi agent, thereby causing Steve Rogers to be the only person to receive Erskine's super-soldier serum. That agent fired a number of bullets in that hidden chamber that day--but Straczynski needs only one to make his, er, point.

It's Erskine's death--or, rather, the date of Erskine's death--that becomes this story's point of divergence from actual events in our reality and thus sets the tone for what's to come. As for how the plot ties into the series title's origin, the association with the bullet points of a document seems intentional, perhaps as a hook of some sort that takes advantage of the phrase's familiarity--though Edwards' graphic of a slumped body in someone's crosshairs on the first issue's cover, as well as what appears to be a gunshot impact in the masthead, completes the picture well enough.

Soon enough, it becomes clear that Erskine meets his death just as he did in the original story. But this time, he'll have company.

Final Reckoning!

There was a time when the Kingpin used to take Spider-Man for quite a ride:

The Kingpin emerged in both the pages of Amazing Spider-Man and Daredevil to be the crime boss of all crime bosses--ruthless in his dealings with not only his competitors but also those costumed folk who attempted to interfere with his profit margin. But an effort was also made to make him a physical threat--particularly if he was going to have to confront a super-strong character like Spider-Man. Obviously, the Kingpin wasn't going to be an agile fighter; so the emphasis was placed on his unexpected speed and, of course, his considerable bulk, which he described as being all muscle rather than fat. That assertion is probably mostly wishful thinking on his part, though I'm not going to be the one to bring it to his attention; suffice to say that, in those early stories, the Kingpin could hold his own--as well as, apparently, wall-crawlers.

And that brings us to another gripping

---

Marvel Trivia Question

---

Was Spider-Man ever able to defeat the Kingpin, one-on-one?

Target: The Richards Children!

Where the New York City Child Welfare Department is concerned, it's gratifying to see its attention to diligence--especially regarding the offspring of Reed and Sue Richards, children who have the love and best intentions of their parents but whose measures have proven insufficient to assure their children's safety and well-being while spending their childhood within the dangerous world of the Fantastic Four. We've already seen Simone Debouvier, a caseworker of the Department, pay a visit to the Baxter Building and inform Sue of her office's intent to evaluate the home environment of her children, Franklin and Valeria, to determine if it was suitable for them to remain in. Ms. Debouvier's initial interview with Sue and Franklin, to put it mildly, was quite a wake-up call for Sue, with Ms. Debouvier scheduling a follow-up visit to continue the investigation as well as to hopefully meet with the children's father, Reed--a meeting which occurred while Reed was pursued by Federal agents and, consequently, failed to win the Richardses any points with our caseworker.

Since that time, life for the FF has continued, in full crisis mode--with the Baxter Building suffering heavy damage in an alien attack, as well as the children (and their trial nannies!) barely escaping death. Under the circumstances, it comes as little surprise when the Department makes an interim decision pending a formal hearing:

Yet even now, the FF can't simply discard its responsibilities in other matters--and so Reed makes the call to send Ben and Johnny to deal with a current situation involving the Hulk on a rampage, while the kids' parents devote their attention to the domestic crisis:

Yet, when Ms. Debouvier arrives to act on the Department's decision, Reed and Sue are surprisingly cooperative. After all, they can hardly deny Ms. Debouvier's assertions as to the children's exposure to danger. But they seem to have a counter-proposal in mind:

Bureaucracy is a fine thing in theory--however, in practice, it often fails to look down the road and take into consideration other factors in play, particularly in a world where super-powered beings can often work around the red tape. But for Franklin and Valeria, has that realization come too late?

Fortunately, the Richardses are well aware of the world they live in.

Of course, Sue's declaration doesn't quite hold up under scrutiny--Franklin has suffered both physically and psychologically when his parents were powerless to prevent it, nor has their presence in the Baxter Building been much of a deterrent in preventing any number of blatant attacks on the FF while in residence. But Simone seems satisfied that, under the circumstances, the best possible solution for the children is already in place:

It was a nice sub-story by writer J. Michael Straczynski, appropriately taking place while the FF were in the middle of matters pulling them in all directions.  I think Simone sums up the lives of Reed and Sue and the choices they face very well, with the bottom line being that there are no easy answers for this situation--which can be as satisfying an end to an FF story as a simple checkmark in the "Win" column.

The Lion of Asgard--And Earth

When you think of Thor's comrades-in-arms, the illustrious "Warriors Three" who often join the Thunder God on perilous quests as well as well-deserved carousing, there's one member of that group who literally stands out from the others. And this excellent scene from his creators, Stan Lee and Jack Kirby, should give you a fair idea why the name of Volstagg, the Lion of Asgard, is well known in every corner of the realm:

With the right writer, I just become a pile of giddiness whenever Volstagg makes an appearance. The Asgardians can often be a grim lot--I mean, how can they not be, as obsessed as they are with their own approaching doom in the form of Ragnarok? So scenes with Volstagg offer a nice change of pace from Thor's more deadly and perilous lifestyle, as well as a look at Asgard and the interaction of its people when they're not girding for war.

Take, for instance, this Asgardian tournament, where everyone looks forward to competing in battle with their peers. Even Volstagg, who normally chooses the better part of valor but can spot an opening for a quick path to laurels when he sees one:

Volstagg hasn't had the best of luck in this tournament, but he finally squares off with the diminutive Drom--and, would you believe, the Destroyer?

Fortunately, Volstagg survived his encounter with the armored behemoth and lived to brag another day. Though if you recall when I mentioned having the "right writer" for the character, that bragging and boasting became drastically curtailed when writer Gerry Conway took over the book. Conway apparently felt that it was high time to peel back what he saw as the mask of Volstagg's joviality and boasting and reveal instead a simple coward, resulting in disappointing scenes like these:

We never really saw the overly gregarious and blustering side of Volstagg during Conway's time on the book (nor, actually, did you see much smiling at all, from anyone--Thor was a pretty depressing read with Conway at the helm). When Walt Simonson took over the title, we began to see Volstagg return to his self of old, and become much more engaged both as an Asgardian and as a member of Thor's inner circle.

But Volstagg's "golden age," so to speak, really kicked into high gear when J. Michael Straczynski began writing Thor's 2007 series--a limited run for Straczynski, but which produced many scenes where Volstagg basked in the spotlight in which he flourished. Take a look at this segment where our "lion" is being tended to by his close friends, as he rails in a near-theatrical state of absolute, magnificent drunkenness:

Not Volstagg at his most heroic, agreed. But Straczynski gives him ample opportunities to shine in that respect. In this scene, for example, in a small Oklahoma town on Earth where the mad clone of Thor, named "Ragnarok," has been sent to enact Norman Osborn's brand of justice against him, Volstagg is the town's sole defense, and he doesn't shirk his responsibility. On the contrary, he feistily engages this foe even knowing the odds against him. It's a battle his comrades will no doubt hear recounted often:

The battle is interrupted because of further developments which Osborn is also responsible for--but I think it's more than clear that Conway's direction for Volstagg was as ill-conceived as the creation of "Ragnarok," given how Volstagg distinguished himself here. There's also this memorable scene where Volstagg protects both the town and his comrades from a deadly attack by Doombots:

Though as amazed at Volstagg's triumph against such powerful foes as his friends may be, let's just say that the lady Sif finds a little more to be amazed at concerning Volstagg. You might even say a lot more:

Straczynski found an ideal middle ground for the character--taking the Lee/Kirby Volstagg who was played strictly for comic relief and treated his time with the Warriors Three as a mixture of lark and adventure while Fandral and Hogun ran interference for him, and blending all of that with a warrior's disposition which didn't hesitate to advance to the forefront when it was called for. In so doing, Volstagg became a more vital and desirable companion, a more capable fellow warrior, and a more cherished friend. And as such, our giddiness at seeing him hurl himself into battle can only thrive.