The best way to enjoy this comic is to forget that it’s based on an established series by a beloved author and take it as a standalone. I admittedly forgot this as I read and reviewed the previous issue, and my nerd rage got the better of me. So, for issue #4, I was determined to judge the story and characters on their own merits, rather than hold them to an impossibly high standard by miring them in my own wistful nostalgia. And . . . it appears to have worked. I actually enjoyed this issue significantly more than I did the previous ones.
This comic, in my opinion, is what time travel adventures are all about. It begins with crazy, fast-paced sci-fi action, which sets the tone for the rest of the issue. The Rook, our charming and charismatic time traveler/adventurer, is on the run. He’s being relentlessly pursued by a rogues gallery of colorful villains from across time, and possibly space as well, since a couple of them are decidedly not human.
When the Future Proof story began, things were relatively simple. Well, as simple as a time travel story of this type can be, anyway. James and Simon (and other time agents like them) were tasked with going further and further back in history, fixing certain historical events to repair the timeline. The further back they go, though, and the more events they affect, the more complicated things become.
The first two issues of Nightwasp were broad, joke-a-minute, Zucker Brothers-style comedy. What little plot there was mainly served as a setup for a variety of superhero jokes and pop culture references. The next two issues toned down the joke-a-minute style, choosing instead to develop the story a bit more. Now, Issue #5 apparently wraps up the first story arc, and in so doing, tries to combine both styles. It’s packed with silly jokes and references, while also balancing an increasingly complex plot. Does it work? I’m not sure yet. But, it does end up being fairly entertaining.
Anne Frankenstein tells the story of the rise of a new Nazi regime in 2046, and the 9-foot-tall cyborg woman that the underground resistance builds to stop them. When I first read the plot synopsis, my reaction was, “That could either be really great, or really terrible—and I really want to find out which.” Well, after reading the comic, I’m happy to report that it is, in fact, pretty good.
We continue with the non-canonical adventures of Mr. Sherlock Holmes. When we last left our heroes, Holmes was hot on the trail of the nefarious Moriarty, while Watson was trying to come up with a plan to get Holmes help with his cocaine addiction.
The latest issue of Trista & Holt is a little different. First, it’s double-sized. Secondly, it’s almost entirely backstory, telling us about Trista’s childhood. Most importantly, though, it’s not written by series creator Andrez Bergen. The art is still Bergen’s, done in his signature photomanipulation style, but the story is written by guest author Renee Asher Pickup.
I’ve seen a lot of Kickstarter campaigns. I’ve contributed to a fair few of them, and even helped to promote one or two. I’ve seen some that succeeded beyond their wildest dreams, and I’ve seen others that didn’t even come close to reaching their goal. Through it all, my goal has been to crowdfund a project of my own; however, if I’ve learned one thing through all the campaigns I’ve observed, it’s that it’s much easier to fail at Kickstarter than to succeed, especially if you go in without knowing what you’re doing.
According to my records, the last Danger Girl comic I read and reviewed was nearly a year ago—and that one barely featured the actual Danger Girls in it at all. So, you can imagine my joy at seeing the beginning of a new story arc. Or maybe you can’t imagine it. In that case, just take my word: there was joy.
When I first wrote my review of Dirk Gently #1, I was going to include a rather lengthy rant about how Dirk is drawn as rail thin, even though in the books he’s described as exactly the opposite. I eventually cut that paragraph before submitting the review, because it seemed minor and nitpicky. But, after three issues, this impossibly thin Dirk Gently still bugs me, and I think I finally know why—and I no longer think it’s nitpicky, either.