Rachelle Rosenberg

Storm: Make It Rain

by Greg Pak, Víctor Ibáñez, Ruth Redmond, Cory Petit, Roland Paris
issue 3: Scott Hepburn, David Baldeon, Jordi Tarragona, Rachelle Rosenberg
issue 6: Al Barrionuevo, Tom Palmer, Joe Sabino

My inspiration for reading Pak’s Storm run is simple: I’m rewatching the X-Men Animated Series (one of the best depictions of Storm ever), and I needed more Ororo in my life. But while a lot of the covers are great, not everything is firing on all cylinders here.

Storm is an iconic superhero with decades of history, so why does it seem like Pak can’t fully lock in her character? The issues are really disjointed, with one or two issue vignettes that don’t go together. This isn’t always a problem, but the issues don’t feel grounded or connected; if anything, the first two arcs, in which Storm looks for missing women (and ends up apologizing to them), felt a bit too similar.

And we’re surrounded by Storm’s current and ex lovers: Wolverine and Forge respectively, even T’Challa is mentioned several times. At times it felt like Storm wasn’t the star of her own story. So it was ironic that the book finally centered around Storm once she was in grief, but even then, it’s gone by the last issue – not sure if her grief precipitated any real change or growth. Also that third issue with Forge in Africa was….more than a little cringey. Possibly even tone deaf; made me really wish someone like Nnedi Okorafor, Roxane Gay or Vita Ayala was on this title.

It was nice to see Beast pop up a few times, he and Storm have a sweet relationship; but where are Kitty and Rogue? It’s odd that in her own solo series more of her friendships aren’t explored. (The more I think about it the more frustrated i am that Forge, for some reason, was given priority.)

The constantly shifting art team is fine; there’s not much to write home about, which is also a shame for a Storm book. For powers as awesome and visual as controlling the weather, there are few ‘wow’ moments post the opening issue. And the third issue’s new creative team was totally jarring, and while I loved Baldeon’s work on Domino, his and Hepburn’s art was inconsistent with some weird proportions.

I’ll check out the last volume (although it has pretty negative reviews) when I’m not feeling anything else. Frankly I would be so excited to see a new Storm solo series written by a Black writer like any of the folks mentioned above. Storm deserves a kickass solo title, and this isn’t it.

Doctor Aphra: Fortune and Fate

Doctor Aphra is unquestionably one of the best original characters to come out of Star Wars comics, but her solo series was a roller coaster that barely managed any consistency.

Wong, Cresta and Rosenberg’s debut volume on Doctor Aphra is a perfect jumping-on point for new Aphra fans, and also a return to the best of Aphra as a character, and a distillation of her best stories. Aphra returns to her roots as a double crossing archaeologist – this time, the “Rings of Vaale” which will provide the wearer with infinite power and wealth – with a quirky, equally double crossing crew, and a perfectly creepy abandoned city.

Wong gets Aphra. She gets her quippy one liners, what blocks her from intimacy and honest relationships, and how to authentically integrate her queerness without making it decorative. On that note, while it seems like every other woman is Aphra’s ex, Wong handles their relationship with more tact and nuance than Spurrier or Gillen ever did. The pacing is excellent and Wong also introduces memorable secondary characters, not an easy feat. The villain looks like 90’s regret but a new spin on spoiled rich boy – collecting rare antiques and vaporizing them, so he is the last to hold them.

Marika Cresta and Rachelle Rosenberg’s art fires on all cylinders. The pencils are soft but kinetic, and aren’t too hyper realistic (something I find off putting in Star Wars books). Aphra is drawn beautifully and her chemistry with Okka is believable, and Rosenberg’s colors evoke a classic Star Wars story.

Some folks are complaining that this book “doesn’t tread new ground,” but it’s not supposed to. It’s a volume one – and frankly, it’s the volume one Dr. Aphra deserved – because it shows us exactly who Aphra is. And I’m here for it, as long as we see Triple Zero in the next arc.

Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man: Hostile Takeovers

by Tom Taylor, Ken Lashley, Juann Cabal, Scott Hanna, Scott Hanna, Nolan Woodard, Rachelle Rosenberg, Marcio Menyz
also featuring artists Luca Maresca, Pere Pérez, Todd Nauck, Ig Guara, Dike Ruan, Marguerite Sauvage
collects Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man #7-14
volume reviews one | two [complete]

It’s criminal that Marvel cancelled Taylor’s Spider-Man series after only two volumes. I’ve yet to find a more consistent author who strikes the perfect balance of Peter’s snarky one-liners and his deep love for the people of New York.

Unfortunately, both stories felt like trade-volume arcs stuffed into a few issues – a problem I attribute to Marvel, not Taylor, who had to wrap up all of his plans far too soon. The first arc is earnest, and some might say “political,” but it’s a clear extension of Peter’s values that the government should work for everyone and provide basic necessities. It’s a storyline that has echoes of comics from the 60’s, including Spider-Man’s, that isn’t afraid to bridge comics with our own need for equity today. (For more about how politics have existed in comics since the beginning, see here.) Marnie returns, and it was phenomenal to see her origin as Rumor include the history of WWII internment camps for Japanese Americans. The second story sees Spidey teaming up with the Fantastic Four and returning to Under York, a place I couldn’t care less about – the story was rushed and had no payoff, but Peter’s banter with the team was so fantastic, I could have read a whole volume of it.

Taylor writes an excellent Peter Parker, but the book isn’t without its issues. Issue 11 is a standalone, and stand out, issue featuring Mary Jane; but otherwise, MJ and Aunt May are still in the background, continuing to only serve Peter and his story, and not have any character development on their own. (Half of MJ’s issue is even narrated by an absent Peter.) It’s less forgivable this time around as May opens a homeless shelter while having cancer. Speaking of senior women, it’s strange that there’s time spent on Marnie’s backstory, but no interesting or emotional development with May at all. Taylor had to pick and choose what made it in these final issues, but as much as I love Marnie, giving May some very past-due focus might have been more important. Even the final issue, a heartwarming though rushed story where New York’s superheroes give Peter the night off as he stays with May during her surgery, still uses May’s cancer as an impetus for Peter’s story.

The art is also a major problem. The revolving door of artists both during and between issues, was jolting and aside from one flashback didn’t add to the story at all. Aside from Juann Cabal and Pere Pérez, the art wasn’t particularly inspiring either. I really struggled with Lashley’s work and many panels, by him and other artists, felt sloppy and rushed.

And for a book with double the senior women usually found in comic books, the way they are treated visually in this book is horrible. Marnie has excessive wrinkles and lines you’d never see on Lex Luthor or Magneto. And I was honestly offended by Lashley’s final page when May wakes up from her surgery. With her face gaunt and eyes blackened, it looked more like a villain reveal than a genuine and vulnerable moment between May and Peter.

I wish Taylor had more time (with better artists) to give his Spidey stories more justice, because there were some real home runs in this series. Hopefully he’ll write more Spider-Man in the future – or even better, a Spidey/F4 book.

Doctor Aphra: Worst Among Equals

This might be my favorite volume of Doctor Aphra yet. The last arc was Spurrier’s first solo as Aphra writer, and it was a clunker that tried a bit too hard. But everything’s been ironed out in this volume, with Spurrier and his great art team focusing on the best aspects of Doctor Aphra and, in my opinion, Star Wars – a fun planet romp with great characters and monsters.

The book opens with the annual, as our titular archaeologist employs monster hunters and odd-orable married couple Winloss and Nokk. Even though it was disappointing to see so little of Aphra in her annual, Winloss and Nokk are fantastic characters who belong perfectly in this corner of Star Wars (and if it were up to me, every DND campaign) and it was a delight to see them later in the main arc. Wijngaard’s art was also impressive.

“Odd couples” is certainly the theme of this volume, as Aphra and Triple Zero are stuck together thanks to two implanted bombs that won’t let them get several meters away from each other. (Off-world is our third odd couple, Dr Evezan and Ponda, the Mos Eisley duo from Episode IV and the reason behind Trip and Aphra’s implanted bombs. They had minimal investment and didn’t add much, which is fine.) Aphra and Trip’s banter was sorely missed in the last volume, and it’s in spades here – especially Trip’s hilarious yet disturbing delight in torture – as the two hit their lowest point (metaphorically and figuratively) and fight to survive.

The classic “enemies forced to work together” trope still bears meaningful and believable payoff by the end, not an easy task for volume five, or for morally ambiguous characters. I’m continuously impressed by Spurrier’s ability to gradually introduce hints and glimmers of redemption and self awareness from Aphra (and even Trip), without being unearned or too saccharine. Aphra’s selfishness and self-sabotage make her a compelling and deeply flawed character, and she is gently nudged towards growth while staying believable as a character. And as in previous volumes, her queerness is part of Aphra’s identity, but not window dressing or decoration – her regret and love for Tolvan is an important but minor part of the story.

Spurrier and the art team also take us on a fun planet romp with great world-building, fun monsters, and solid secondary characters, including the return of an undead force-infused warrior maniac. This is campy and lighthearted Star Wars at its best, and Laiso and Rosenberg continue their impressive character design while also elevating Spurrier’s humorous one liners. The sketchy, black and white flashback panels are gorgeous, and I’ve never seen a droid as creepy as Triple Zero. Andrea Broccardo assists with pencils on 31, and unfortunately it was a dip in quality, which was tough for the final issue.

The ending felt a little predictable, and the televised aspect was trite at times, but that could have been the product of reading as a trade rather than individual issues. This is probably one of the best volume fives in any series, and I’m excited for the next chapter.

The Unbelievable Gwenpool: Lost in the Plot

by Christopher Hastings, Irene Strychalski, Gurihiru, Rachelle Rosenberg
collects The Unbelievable Gwenpool #21-25
debut series: volumes one | two | three | four | five [complete]
miniseries: Gwenpool Strikes Back

Gwenpool’s first series comes to a close with issue 25, and this final volume was a mixed bag. It’s worth the read for any Gwenpool fan – or, frankly, anyone who’s made it through all four volumes – and to me, the good elements outshine the drawbacks. Overall, one’s opinion of this closing volume will likely depend on your investment in Gwen, and how much you like reflective meta in your comics.

The first two issues of Gwenpool fall flat – Gwen tries to hunt down Doctor Doom because if she defeats him, for some reason, she’ll be able to join the Avengers – for some reason! Her panel-jumping powers develop a bit too, and it’s fun to see Strychalski and later Gurihiru play with form and perspective. But it’s largely aimless with little payoff until the third issue, more than halfway through, when Gwen reveals it’s about mortality – in a sense. Gwen sees her pages running out, knowing she’s about to be cancelled, and neither an Avengers membership nor compliance with being a supervillain can change it. Gwen (and unsurprisingly, Hastings) chose the right villain to hear Gwen out: a newly reformed Doctor Doom with an understanding of multiple dimensions – and rebooting your own story. Finally, the book shifts into a more meaningful and reflective closing chapter.

Is it possible readers in 2018 were kept in the dark about Gwen’s cancellation until this issue? Perhaps, and that surprise might have had a huge payoff. But more often, readers learn months in advance between solicits, publisher announcements, and creative teams working on new titles. Instead, the midway “surprise” feels like a lot of time was lost in getting there. As Gwen starts to see her final pages count down, I couldn’t help but think of the forty or so spent in the first couple issues.

The rest of the book has a gentle pace as we see multiple guest stars – including Hastings’ sweet, silly Baltroc – return, as Gwen, breaking the fourth wall and beyond, meditates on her cancellation and what that means for her tiny pocket of the Marvel universe. What about characters invented for her title? How will future writers change Baltroc? As another character mentions, this is a far cry from trigger happy Gwen in the first volume, who was happy to murder anything that moved, because in her mind, none of it was real. There are some very sweet moments, particularly the very last issue, and I appreciate that Hastings pushes the envelope on the particular Gwenpool style of meta that can only be achieved in her book.

Unfortunately, the ending is also a mixed bag. There’s a predictable time-travel twist, because something very similar was used in the opening issues – it probably had more of a punch in the individual issues with months in between. There are some happy endings and cameos, which is nice to tie up loose ends, but some characters like Cecil weren’t given enough time for much payoff. Also, odd to not see an Easter egg for Gwen’s participation in the West Coast Avengers team book, whose premiere issue premiered six months after Gwen’s closing issue. (Perhaps it was also a reveal at the time.) And while WCA’s writer Kelly Thompson might not have known how this series would end, an opening line from Gwen connecting the two books would have been very sweet.

The art for Gwen’s final chapter is appropriately divided between her two central artist teams. First was Irene Strychalski and Rachelle Rosenberg, who take the lead for the first three issues, and the final two were wrapped up by Gurihiru (aka Sasaki and Kawano), who probably worked on Gwen’s title the most. Personally, I’m not a fan of Strychalski’s style – especially panels with maskless Gwen, whose eyes always looked off. I resonate much more with Gurihiru, but that could be because my first Gurihiru book (of many) was volume one of Gwenpool.

Even though this wasn’t the strongest conclusion to Gwenpool’s first solo series, it’s still a strong celebration of her character, growing far beyond the joke variant cover that launched her as a lovable, witty antihero. It’s wonderful to see that her character has continued to live on, both in and outside comic book pages; and I’m looking forward to reading her latest solo series, Gwenpool Strikes Back, very soon.