Joe Caramagna

Gwenpool Stikes Back

By Leah Williams, Jesus Abertov, David Baldeón, Joe Caramagna
collects Gwenpool Strikes Back #1-5
original series: volumes one | two | three | four | five [complete]

Gwenpool is an anomaly in superhero comics. She’s originally from our world, and that makes her irreverent, nerdy, over the top meta, and nihilistic all at the same time; her “powers” include her comics knowledge and traversing the white space between panels. What made her special in her debut run, to me, wasn’t breaking the fourth wall; it was the way she poked fun at comics and pushed a very particular satire and commentary, as a character who understands both worlds. While Hastings’ run had its ups and downs, he managed to create some emotional resonance with Gwenpool, especially when she realized her series was coming to an end.

Instead of building on what made Gwen’s original series great, Williams rehashes Hastings’ last volume (which had major problems of its own). Gwen’s manic strategies to save her readership and continue existing in the Marvel universe are basically the same: she tries to be a villain, then switches to “sex sells” (swapping Batroc for Deadpool, and resulting in a very strange trip to the Fantastic Four home), and then she organizes a Battle Royale with other superheroes that dragged on far too long. This was already overdone last time, so the rehash was unoriginal, exhausting, and frankly, artificial. Just like Hastings’ finale, we know things will end positively for Gwen, so when Williams tries to eke out something emotional, it falls flat. And very ironic that Gwen lamented the loss of her original secondary characters in volume five, knowing they wouldn’t exist outside her series, yet here they only make one nonessential appearance. Gwen did have a sweet moment with Kamala Khan towards the end of the book which was nice, since she is so often paired with male characters (even on West Coast Avengers, Gwen was almost immediately and exclusively paired with Quinten).

Compounding these problems is the humor, a staple in Gwen’s series. In Strikes Back, the humor was pretty forced. As a millennial, I’m probably no longer allowed to comment on what is cool anymore, but it often didn’t land. The slang, use of emojis and so on felt artificial and very time specific. I chuckled maybe once or twice the whole book.

I loved David Baldeón’s work on Domino and most recently Storm (two Baldeón books in a row!), and his expressive, slick style really lends itself to Gwenpool. I love how he visualized her white space-jumping, and the artist himself has a fun cameo too. The one thing that really bothered me was giving Gwen a gap, or at least a line, between her teeth. It’s a small detail but really changed her look and I wasn’t a fan.

Gwen is all about taking risks and I wish Williams had gone in a bolder new direction with her character instead of largely repeating her former arc.

Doctor Aphra: A Rogue’s End

*spoilers for issues 37-39, which is all I made it through*

UGH! After a disappointing sixth volume I really hoped Spurrier would bring it all together in the final volume. NOPE.

Usually I will try to power through a disappointing book, especially one that’s been a favorite series of the year. But unfortunately, literally everything about this book is disappointing, and I would rather not come out of this disliking Doctor Aphra.

The volume picks up at the last book’s cliffhanger, with Aphra back in Vader’s service. Now, the Empire is trying to find the Rebels’ new hideout (if you’ve seen Empire, you know where this is going), and their pattern of hiding out in old Jedi temples makes archaeologists a perfect match to help hunt them down. It makes sense, but Aphra did better when her stories didn’t overlap with canon at all.

The book feels aimless even as characters from past books make appearances in an attempt to appear full-circle. Aphra makes decisions that make no sense, even for her heartless self (like leaving Valuuda alone on an abandoned planet), and conversations with her dad are too eager and feel hollow. Aphra and Tolvan’s scene together was a joke.

And the art is just atrocious. Far too cartoony for a Star Wars book, and there’s barely any nuance to facial expressions. Panels that require some drama and punch – like Vader choking Aphra’s father, Tovan blasting Aphra – all fall flat.

Spurrier really struggled with Aphra, and it’s disappointing that this final chapter really didn’t communicate a strong sense of Aphra’s character or deliver a satisfying story. I’m glad this rogue’s story has come to an end – bring on Alyssa Wong.

Doctor Aphra: Unspeakable Rebel Superweapon

by writer Simon Spurrier; artists Wilton Santos, Andrea Broccardo, Caspar Wijngaard, Chris Bolson;
inkers Marc Deering, Don Ho, Walden Wong, Scott Hanna; colorists Chris O’Halloran & Stéphanie Paitreu; letterer Joe Caramagna
collects Doctor Aphra #32-36
volume reviews one | two | three | four | five | six | seven [complete]

Yikes! After a very solid fifth volume, Doctor Aphra’s next arc loses its way. It’s a good thing I’m invested enough in the character to keep going – this kind of mess early on would have lost me as a reader.

Spurrier simply tries to do too much here – among them, revealing Aphra’s childhood, a Rebel plot to assassinate the Emperor, an unexpected reunion with Tolvan, and the Imperial Minister of Propaganda returns (along with a certain favorite Wookie). Instead of a focused narrative, grounded by sharp banter and emotional growth between Aphra and Triple Zero like last time, this arc was scattered and unfocused – and it didn’t help that the art teams changed multiple times within and between issues, with varying levels of quality. Some pages were really quite awful.

In previous volumes, Spurrier has done a fine job pushing Aphra into a corner – usually double crossing left and right – allowing for a lot of growth while the stakes shift and she has to accept the consequences. But the unnecessary amount of exposition and convoluted storyline didn’t allow any emotional beats to land. (Who enjoys exposition of double crosses? No one?) Tolvan and Aphra’s relationship is still unearned, and even cringy, as a certain famous ESB quote undercuts the whole thing. The stakes disappear as soon as we know a plot is already doomed to fail – assassinating the Emperor, in this case – a fault of many other SW titles and a first for Aphra.

So what could have saved the book is more growth in Aphra, which has been successful in each volume (even if it’s a turn away from redemption), but there’s a disappointing lack of growth or insight here. Even the final reveal, an easy one to have some emotional resonance or at least serve to deepen Aphra’s relationship with her “tiny ward” Vulaada, fell flat.

I’m looking forward to reading the finale of this series…or I’m more excited to start Alyssa Wong’s new run. Could go either way.

Doctor Aphra: The Catastrophe Con

Doctor Aphra has a lot of momentum going for her, but volume four really stumbled. But there’s still a lot of good, and maybe the fact that it took until volume four is a good thing.

Catastrophe Con drags in the first three issues, but there are enough twists and changing allegiances to keep things engaging. That’s largely thanks to Aphra herself, and Simon Spurrier (taking over full time as writer from Kieron Gillen) does a nice job having a firm handle on her character (and her vague morality) alongside a large cast with their own contradicting agendas and priorities. I also really appreciate how Aphra’s series leans into the wackiness of the Star Wars universe, including a space jail, mind reading and shape shifting aliens, and Jedi ghost spores.

It’s worth celebrating that we have three queer women who show up in this volume – Aphra, Tolvan and Sana – probably a first for the Star Wars universe. It’s amazing to see Star Wars becoming more diverse, and that it’s not diversity for its own sake (hopefully) – Aphra and Tolvan are full characters beyond just their sexuality, which is a huge win. (More on Sana below.)

But the writing was still flawed, and that’s even more frustrating because this is so rare, and because straight couples are treated so differently. First of all, Tolvan and Aphra’s romance is completely rushed. Last volume they had a one night stand; now, the next time they meet, Tolvan declares her love out loud? I’m not buying it – there just wasn’t enough time, along with Tolvan’s disciplined personality, for it to make sense. Plus, Sana was clearly shoehorned into the issue to create drama and not much else – this is the second time she’s been brought in to stir up tension in a couple, which sucks. Plus, her monologue at the beginning (indicating she is far from over Aphra), and their conversation later, was a complete mismatch.

It’s frustrating that Star Wars is happy to have Han and Leia banter with sexual tension for eons, but Tolvan and Aphra can’t even stay in one stage of a relationship for more than one or two issues. Spurrier has a so many moving parts in this issue (perhaps one too many), that Aphra and Tolvan can’t really be at the center of it – it needs to be rushed through to get to the next thing – and that’s where this loses me. Star Wars comics, I am perfectly happy *not* seeing the Big Bad Villain or Space Explosion every single arc. You’re allowed to let your characters breathe. Especially if it means doing a queer romance justice, which your universe has literally never done before.

That being said, Spurrier does a fantastic job slowly forcing Aphra into a corner, decisions and betrayals building on each other for a dark but satisfying resolution. I didn’t always like how she was drawn (more on that below), but Spurrier is very solid on her character, ambiguous morality, and her humor. And like Gillen before him, Spurrier ensures that Aphra is in a very different place than the last volume and there are real consequences to her actions. It’s so different than the main Star Wars title – Luke, Leia and the others are so safe, their stories lack urgency and real character development. With Aphra and her corner of the galaxy, there’s no safety net, and therefore a whole lot of room for more interesting storytelling. However, sometimes the wacky elements of the story were either a bit far fetched (the mind altering alien) or resolved too quickly with exposition (the Jedi ghost).

Art team Kev Walker and Marc Deering return from the second volume, with Java Tartaglia on colors. I had a real love-hate relationship with the art, and most of the way through, it was the latter. The precision of the spaceships, buildings and aliens feel very true to Star Wars, but it just didn’t translate to humans, whose proportions weren’t consistent (Aphra’s doe eyes especially), and whose expressions lacked the force of emotion to really drive home pivotal scenes. Tolvan shouting for Aphra to respond while trying to escape, and Sana and Aphra talking about their breakup – these emotional moments fell flat. I’m a much bigger fan of volume two’s art team, Laiso and Rosenberg.

**spoilers, maybe?** And then, I’m hit with a full page of Triple Zero walking through fire, singing an upside down musical note, towards a terrified Aphra and Tolvan, and it might be one of my all-time favorite pages in comics. Frankly, I wish Aphra herself got the same precise attention and “wow” moment. Holding a light saber in tears doesn’t really cut it for me.

I’m still enjoying the series – Aphra as a character is compelling enough to get me through the “meh” volumes. But every volume I can’t help but notice the creative team is an all-boys club, and while one’s identities certainly don’t have to match the characters you’re creating, it still bothers me (especially contrasted with three queer women in this one volume). It will probably bother me until I get to the new series and I’ll mention it every time – but that’s because for every volume, it really was a choice.

Runaways: Canon Fodder

by Rainbow Rowell, Andrés Genolet, Kris Anka, Matt Wilson, Federico Blee, Joe Caramagna, Dee Cunniffe, & Walden Wong
collects Runaways #25-31
volumes one | two | three | four | five

This is my 200th review on Reading Art! (✯◡✯)

Rowell’s got some interesting table setting going on in the first four volumes of Runaways. First we’ve got Victor Mancha and his “Victorious” programming (hinted all the way back in OG Runaways volume two), and more recently, Alex Wilder is up to something at the old lair belonging to the Runaways’ deceased evil parents, the Pride.

Only one gets a direct mention at the very end, but these long term developments dovetail nicely with this new arc: on a night of vigilantism, Karolina and Nico meet Doc Justice, “The City of Angels’ most steadfast hope!” Rowell brilliantly connects the Pride as Doc Justice’s nemeses, and he still pursues the crime syndicate they left behind. When the Runaways have to escape from their underground home, Doc Justice takes them in, and convinces them to be superheroes.

It’s a bit strange that only Victor has heard of Doc Justice, when all the kids grew up in LA, or that Doc waited so long to find the Runaways kids – if he’s indeed kept tabs on them, he’d know how talented they are. But it still feels like a plausible connection in the west coast Marvel universe, even though it sucks West Coast Avengers was cancelled three months before this first issue was published. The mere concept of a Runaways/WCA crossover is too glorious, I’m upset just thinking about it (and Doc Justice would have had a much easier time recruiting Kate and co, as he soon learns).

Rowell still favors the emotional anchor for thrilling action, though we do see some of the Runaways superhero-ing as the new “J-Team.” Gert, the only runaway without powers, is pushed aside, even by Old Lace – which has happened before, and time around feels like it’s retreading old ground (though she also makes a great meta-comment about reincarnated superheroes). A bit more interesting and fresh are Chase’s pained looks leaving his beloved lair, and Nico learning physical combat with her staff, content to not be the leader anymore. Like Nico, I would have liked more reactions and growth from Chase, Karolina and Molly as they adjust to the new superhero life. Victor’s unbridled enthusiasm about redeeming his past nicely ties character development with aforementioned table setting. Of everyone, Molly takes the biggest seat back – but she’s now taller than Nico, and that counts for something. I’m glad they’re showing her age, instead of in perpetual preteen years.

The book pokes quite a bit of fun at decades-old teenage superhero teams, and yet it’s ironic how strange it is to see the Runaways as an actual superhero team. It could work, especially with the pathos of eradicating the syndicate their parents built, but we all know it shouldn’t, at least in the long run. That’s not who the Runaways are. (At least, it’s not who they are yet – we’ll see just how close Rowell sticks to the destiny Vaughan imagined for them.)

Regardless, it’s fitting that our Runaways teens – who were forced into adulthood far too early – have zero interest in the fame or Instagrammable content that comes with fighting crime. They’re not chatting with fans and signing autographs at the end of the day – they’re eating pizza together. The obsession with relevance, ironically, belongs to someone a few generations older.

While character development is uneven (and Doombot is gone, boo!), it still feels like a cohesive group with strong dialogue, and a well-paced story. Everything plays a purpose – Gib’s relentless hunger, the return of Molly’s cat, even the placements and excerpts Rowell chose for the “Stan Forever” pages – but Doc Justice and his assistant Matthew’s roles are more or less predictable. If you try to guess ahead, along with the pretty clear foreshadowing at the end of most of the issues, there’s a good chance you’ll be right. Regardless, the story serves to move Rowell’s bigger plans forward – the two bigger elements I mentioned at the beginning – and I’m still intrigued.

*Spoilers this paragraph.* The one loose end Rowell doesn’t neatly tie up is the reason behind the LADWP started drilling into the Runaways’ home in the first place. I assumed Doc was behind it, to give the Runaways a reason to move in, but we never find out – seems like we will next volume, at least.

Last volume, I was relieved as heck that Andrés Genolet honored and expanded on Kris Anka’s style, I’m not as crazy about his art this time around. It’s just not as consistent, and some scenes (like Nico’s training scene) and character designs (Doc Justice was a bit too Kurt Russell-y) felt unfinished or distracting. But when he hits a good run, man is it good – like Anka, just the right amount of kinetic, fluid expression. There’s a superhero costume scene that mirrors Gert’s fashion change a few volumes back, and it’s becoming a cute recurring visual pattern for the series. Genolet is coming into his own in the series, but I’m sorry, I’ll always prefer Anka, who returned to pencil #27 and it wasn’t nearly enough.

Runaways, while not as magical as Rowell’s first volume, is still at the top of my list when it comes out. I’ve rarely found a reboot with some of my all-time favorite characters that is so consistently engaging, both true to its roots and willing to take risks and develop the story. (Rowell could have rested fully on the original series and gone for mediocre – she’s doing the opposite.) I’m pretty sure Rowell is preparing me for heartbreak, but I’m still all in on the Runaways.