Hit-Girl's plan to bring murder and mayhem to the city of angels hits an unexpected obstacle in part two of The Golden Rage of Hollywood. Writer Kevin Smith and artist Pernille Ørum follow up their ultra violent first issue with a more emotionally impactful installment that sets the stage for a bigger bloodbath still to come.
It’s been a while since an entirely new series had me this intrigued and hyped. Invisible Kingdom #1 gave me whiffs of Firefly, Dune, Avatar, and Saga, and yet presented a story that was unique in both its tone and visual style. The first issue does an amazing job of setting the scene, presenting some of the themes that the series seems set to tackle (consumerism, class/race dynamics, and self-determinism vs. destiny), and introducing us to a rather diverse cast of characters with possibly conflicting or converging interests and agendas.
Rick and Morty is a strange franchise, known for being outlandish, kind of gross, and just a bizarre mix of science, humor, and some truly outrageous visuals. The comics for the franchise have been no different, keeping the same sense of personality and ridiculousness that the show is known for, without the tricky animation budgets and writing delays.
Over the past three issues, we’ve seen Adamant, the indestructible superhero, in a number of different adventures and predicaments, both past and future, as he battles his nemesis, Dr. Alpha. Now, in issue #4, we finally get to see the origin story: how Adamant came to be and how his destiny and Dr. Alpha’s became inextricably intertwined.
Someone is trying to kill one of the most famous assassins in the world. So, what does he do? He tries to hire all of the other greatest assassins in the world to protect himself. That’s it. That’s the concept of this story. It’s a high-concept shoot-em-up. You can expect a lot of ego to be thrown around from characters that have elevated eccentricities, and a lot . . . a LOT of bullets to be fired. If you saw Brie Larson in Free Fire, Joe Carnahan’s Smokin’ Aces, or Shoot’em Up with Clive Owen, or… you get it. There’s an entire subgenre of film that’s poked its head over the horizon in the last decade or so.