Maybe it's because I'm a sucker for Alan Moore, maybe it's the retro-appeal of the classic Brit-comics of the Eighties, and maybe it's the promise of further electricity, deconstruction of the medium and gritty violence to come. But in this case, I'm on board.

This book, in many ways, feels like Ellis taking that thread of his work to its logical conclusion, and if after all that you still shrug and walk away, you have no taste and should go back to drilling holes in your skull with a mechanical pencil: I'm Adam X. Smith, and fuck all of you.

Well, this is damn well more like it, DC! When I hear the words "Batman Black and White" in a sentence I expect a level of quality that the rank and file don't always deliver, and with good reason " the previous iterations of the series, mostly back-up stories in Gotham Knights, attract the cream of the Bat-crop when it comes to writers and artists. Hallelujah, then, that this relaunch issue gets off to a brilliant start (no sarcasm this time) by having not just a superior gloss cover that does Marc Silvestri's cover image justice that regular paper just can't, but the added touch of a frontispiece spread by Phil Noto, complete with the dedication "For Archie Goodwin" at the bottom, seals the deal: last week's Batman Inc. Special was a placeholder, a box-ticker; this is where the real good stuff is, and though the book is slightly shy on the rock-star names you'd immediately associate with it, what it does have in spades is creativity and simplicity.

In summation, Hellboy: The Midnight Circus is not getting out of here without a strong recommendation for any of you who grew up with the story of a funny little puppet that wanted to be a real boy.

Those familiar with the LXG franchise will be pleased to hear that the crossover elements continue to come thick and fast, with appearances from the aforementioned Great Dictator, Doctors Mabuse and Caligari and the clearest look so far at Moore and Kevin O'Neill's reimagining of WWII-era Germany (think Fritz Lang's Metropolis but with swastikas double-crosses), as well as the return of Janni's nemesis, the immortal African queen Ayesha.

I'd recommend this book highly to anyone as an alternative to the likes of Vertigo or who fancies seeing a reworking of a long-abandoned concept that deconstructs its subject without obliterating it by staring into its soul long enough for ego-death to set in. Dark Horse are clearly throwing down the gauntlet to the Big Two with this book, intent on showing that they are now in the superhero business too, and in this writer's opinion, it's a strong opening gambit.

Props to DeConnick and artist Filipe Andrade for showing that you can write comics about women for an all-genders audience without it being boring or full of boobs that just so happen to have characters attached to them.

On top of that, the new artist Declan Shalvey works well with the fine balance between humour and grit that the aforementioned arc title invokes. This is a definite "buy" recommendation, on the proviso that you back-order #15 if you haven't already. Whenever I have my doubts about the whole Marvel NOW! rebrand, I'm reminded of this book and then I realise it's not all bad after all.

Paroline and Lamb's work reminds me of Darwyn Cooke in his prime (always a vote of confidence), and even at eight issues in length, the story doesn't feel baggy. Kudos to North for getting the all-important balance of world/universe-building and character development spot on, giving us just enough to want more.

So that's All-New Marvel Now! Point One in a nutshell " a nice little sampler that will save you some time and money later on in the year when things really get cooking. Sure, you could expect more, but that probably means there's no pleasing you anyway.

The good news then is that, as a writer with no fixed agenda regarding Agent Romanoff, I'm happy to say that this issue sells me at the very least on this version of the character: while Scarlett Johansson's performance is basically my only frame of reference for her, this goes a long way to fitting her into my understanding of the post-NOW!/Disney takeover version of Marvel " still linked mysteriously to the Cold War but very much at home in the Modern Warfare era of terrorists and black ops wet-workers.

A complete change of pace from the two Caligula miniseries he wrote for Avatar Press, this series really caught me off guard with its Joe Dante/Scooby Doo-esque premise and popping artwork. A definite all-age recommendation.

While this issue is pretty slim on pushing the plot forward, it does give a lot of character development over what feels like a handful of pages " such that protagonist Forever Carlyle, a functionally immortal Hand of the King to the Carlyle patriarch who believes herself to be his daughter but secretly isn't, makes a lot more sense by the end of it.

It goes to show that, even with the infinite freedom of expression that the comic book format allows for, you can't make good storytelling appear out of nothing. That's probably a little harsh " the book isn't terrible, and since it's a four-parter and not an ongoing, I'd probably read it again just to see if it gets its act together. It's over-priced at $3.99, but for something that didn't cost me a dime, you could do a lot worse. I'll keep you posted if anyone else can summon any enthusiasm for it.

Superior wants to give us something epic and interesting but it's trapped in its own tangled web (see what I did there?) of idiosyncrasies and plot-holes and can only really muster a bit of flash without substance.

In short, Jupiter's Legacy is not getting a recommendation from this writer. This is not the work of an innovative mind " it's the cynical grasp for credibility of an egomaniac who thinks he can game the system by selling concepts and movie pitches instead of fleshed out stories, who wants to become the spider squatting at the heart of a media empire yet is fundamentally incapable of doing so without the aid of the major players, and in this case his Millarworld brand's spiritual successor Image Comics. Mark Millar is not a genius. He is a spoiled brat who wants all the toys to himself, an agent of the status quo masquerading as a maverick. And this comic, more than any of the others he has written, presents us with nothing even close to something worth getting interested in or excited about.