Note: If you aren't reading Progs yet, next week is a great week to start. All of the ongoing stories have reached their conclusions and next week's Prog 2015 is a 100-pager, will be the last Prog of 2014, and can be picked up by anybody with no continuity worries.

On a more positive note,The Orderis wacky medieval fun, wrapped in the zaniness of modern sci-fi. John Burns' art still stands out, even in a book in which he shares pages with Greg Staples. Having some rustic, old school art gracefully adds to the contrast between the Dark Age setting andthe fucking robot head.

In any case, I thought this was the cleverest chapter ofSavageI've read in some time. Unfortunately, I think theUlysses Sweetgag is starting to wear on me a bit, andOrlokis still stuck in first gear. The Prog is still worth the price of admission, but so far this is the weakest overall lineup in some time.

HAVE I MENTIONEDTHE ORDER?! Just kidding. I know I have. A lot. Because it'sreally good. But I will skip singing its praises this week (even though this chapter dropped in some foreshadowing and kicked off some character development) in order to talk aboutSavage. Savageturned it around a little bit last week with a chapter full of allegory and that was paced better than the jumpy chapters which preceded it. I thoughtSavagecontinued on a promising trajectory this week, with a chapter that was actually paced quite well and a lot of fun to read. It's still a title that's really meant for people who have been wrapped up in its pages for longer than just a few issues, but this was the first week where I didn't feel like I had to be in the club to get it.

Running against the grain of my usual criticisms this week as well wasOrlokwhich had clear direction and a fun plot. The climax of the plot was fun to look at but still could have been rendered a bit more clearly. ThoughOrlokstill gets a little jumpy and feels rushed sometimes, it's been settling into its own groove, and since I was looking forward to this week's chapter and wasn't disappointed, I will keep my hopes up going forward.

What else can I say? Even Ulysses Sweet, whose gag has been wearing thin with me, managed to elicit a chortle this week, and I thought this chapter of Orlok in conjunction with last week's was the best one-two punch of the young series so far. This week's Prog was one I would unflinchingly recommend to anybody looking to try out something new in the world of comics.

Two new series next week, so I'm looking forward to checking them out.

It's rough rushing to judgment on a series like this after only five pages, but “Station to Station” began as such confusing collage of ideas and imagery it was sort of hard to see how I am supposed to fit the pieces together and be satisfied as a reader. Maybe future installments will help out with this.

“Station to Station,” the current3riller, distanced itself from the heavy, ambiguous symbolism of last week in favor of putting a sci-fi face to the culprit of the odd happenings in its pages. This week's entry made it pretty clear that we will either remember this title for its payoff, which is yet to come, or we will not remember it at all. The lack of backgrounds in a lot of these panels really made the issue feel empty and made for a really awkward contrast with the rich visual, other-wordly centerpiece of the issue.

There will be something taking the place of “Station to Station” next week; hopefully it helps boost this lineup a little bit.

We've got a new3rillerstarting this week, “1%.” Robson is writing again, and I was not that impressed with the last3rillerhe wrote, “Station to Station.” That said, I.N.J. Culbard is on the art this time; you might know his name fromBrass Sun, a favorite series of mine from the past few years in the Progs. The start of this three-shot series is much more promising than last time, and I'm hoping it stays that way for the next couple of weeks.

The end of the first round ofThe Orderstraight-up gave me chills. Kek-W and Burns must have channeled this straight from another dimension: this was easily my favorite comic of the last year. Burns' artwork never let off its nostalgic but vivacious style, and every time you think Kek-W doesn't have a trick up his sleeve, both in terms of the plot and in terms of his ability to turn a phrase– well, let's just say I look forward to reading anything this dude writes in the future. I demand more ofThe Orderas soon as possible, 2000 AD. HEED MY REQUEST.

Next week is another one of those weeks that is great for jumping on to this anthology. Give it a shot while my reviews are still about something other thanThe Order.

If you like science fiction, broaden your horizons and check out this Prog. They managed to get me to enjoy this week's chapter, in spite of the fact that it lackedThe Order. No, I have not shut up about it yet. And I won't.

Strontium Dogcontrasts sharply in style, relying on Ezquerra's unmistakable straight-up-the-middle,Dredd-ish approach. The world is simple, bright, and colorful; but, the people are asymmetrical, dirty, and" well, they're all fucking pricks. And just when you think that this kind of Mega City spirit is all he can do, you get the illustration of the Space Hub a few pages into this story and are reminded that Ezquerra can flex his chops for detail when he damn well pleases. Aided by an engaging (and depressingly timely) script from Wagner, and this round ofStrontium Dogis a must-read for Prog fans even with no prior exposure to the title.

Strontium Dog and Slaineare both just obvious fun, albeit for different reasons. I didn't start reading the Progs to see North Korean generals beat the shit out of titular characters, but I will certainly stay if that's the kind of party this is going to be. And even thoughSlainetriggered me with its first page reminding me of my darlingThe Order, Davis's art remains a god damn master class.

I expect things to pick up next week for Strontium Dog and (hopefully) the other stories. As long as Flint is drawing Dredd, though, you have no reason to avoid this anthology.

I could probably write an entire Prog review–an entireseriesof articles, even–on Wagner and Ezquerra. I might dedicate such a review to just this creative team before this run ofStrontium Dogis over. Since I don't have room for it here, go ahead and check out the gritty action scenes in this week's chapter and I will let that carefully-crafted chaos speak for itself.

Strontium DogandDreddcarried the issue in terms of story this week, but for the 82937492th time I must reiterate that even when this anthology drags plot-wise, the art is still stunning from start to finish. SlaineandGrey Areaare just sort of puttering along at the moment, butSlaineis largely a showcase for the art anyway, constantly moving at a snail's pace.

Strontium DogandDreddkept up their usual level of excellence this week and in addition to the regular titles we got a one-off episode ofTerror Talescalled “Phase Shift.” The gag here is pretty dumb, but I don't really care at all because of Hitchcock's pencils. If you aren't head-over-heels in love with the first page of this comic, independent of anything that is said or any plot machinations, then you and I cannot be friends. I believe Hitchcock penciled a story in the Christmas Special issue of the Progs at the turn of the year, and I remember being similarly impressed, even though that story was also lackluster. Anyway, my point here is that if you see the name “David Hitchcock” on something, assuming it's not a name also shared by some Winnebago insurance salesman from Duluth, you should check the comic out.

Grey Areawas great again this week… I just wish they would get out of the fucking prison already, before I try to jump off a ledge like Manners.

Things are turning very Icarus very quickly for Bud in Dredd. I'm obviously still rooting for Bud, despite the fact that I'm supposed to feel at least a little bad about it since he's cheating the system. I'm looking forward to the resolution, and hoping that after all this crap Bud's family ends up okay. "Breaking Bud" is obviously very Breaking Bad in this regard, albeit his wife isn't as" not-quite-likeable as some certain other television show wives.

As forOutlier, which is seeing a fresh serialization, I have not been previously exposed to the series but now have a desire to go back and catch up. The first chapter has me hooked in already, which puts the Progs on an unusual streak of fantastic first chapters. All-in-all I have the unexciting but very cool opportunity to continue insisting that this anthology is a must-buy for anybody who enjoys sci-fi comics.

Heliumputs in another solid chapter, only giving me reason to look forward to more from this proven creative team, andOutlierkind of lost me this week, meaning I need to go back and do my research on the previous run.

Heliumis pretty much an exercise in quick and dirty butsupereffective world-buildery on the part of Edginton and D'Israeli. I'm reminded of one of my other favorite world-buildy teams, Spurrier and Stokely, whose new releaseThe Spireactually hits a lot of similar themes as this title here. I'm looking forward to recommending this title to everyone who's been drooling (deservedly) overThe Spire, since fans of one ought to be fans of the other, lest they have some extreme hatred of Steampunk.

Jaegiris still not doing it for me, butOutlieris still sexy and action-packed fun, even if I have no idea what's going on. I especially enjoyed the effects employed this week of cutting between black panels and panels lit up with gunfire. Oddly enough, it has sort of a sonic effect on the reader, since the lettering deploys theonomatopoeticsounds of gunfire. The effect might even work better on a comics page than in a live-action movie since the artist has full control over the lighting effects.

I'm finally starting to make sense of what's happening inOutlierand it's just as badass as the art would have me believe. All-in-all this was a solid issue and the front-page tease of the return ofBrass Sunwas pretty much worth the price of admission on its own, as far as I'm concerned.

Absalom packed in some very satisfying action this week and Outlier filled in some blanks for continuing readers which also helped bring lapsed readers of the series like myself up to speed on some of the finer points of the world in which it occurs. I still haven't warmed up to Jaegir, but it's fun to look at and it's not particularly bad. I'm guessing it's the kind of series that will benefit from a contiguous read-through.

It's funny:Absalomis in-between the action at the moment, but still manages to garner a laugh here and there. It's hard, especially as an American, not to be amused reading Harry's dialog, even when there are no jokes. Outlieralso remains exciting, in its own way, with its imaginative settings and world-buildery. I am very excited for the next chapter of that series. And I promise I'm trying my hardest to giveJaegira shot; I'm just not there quite yet.

It would be a great move, if this series acts as a concluding arc of the penal colony revolts on Titan and that of Nixon more generally, to collect the related stories into a volume or two ofDreddstories. It would be a great mix of smaller stories and big-time hijinks.

This week also contained aFuture Shockand it was a wild one. I'm having trouble deciding exactly how deep the concepts are in this one, but with visuals from John Higgins, it's a unique experience. I will definitely be on the lookout for more of writer Sally Jane Hurst because even though it wasn't a shock per se it's a gorgeously rendered little story with a focused style that likes to marinate in your gray matter long after you read it.

The jury's out until we see our hero Sebastian Wetheral in action in a chapter that isn't just setting things up, but as far as a first chapter goes in terms of setting the tone, I thought this was a success. Coveney's black-and-white horror styling is a welcome replacement for the recent departure ofAbsalom, yet again showing the great sense that these editors have for putting together an anthology and maintaining its balance. I'm excited to see more of this series, and hope to see Coveney really strut his stuff once the shit really hits the fan.

The newest of Tharg's 3rillers is "Apocalypse Anonymous" with story by Robert Murphy, lines by Sean O'Connor, and colors from Abigail Ryder. O'Connor and Ryder are a killer team; in tandem, they each amplify the other's strengths and give this comic a unified, gritty feel.

To be fair, all of this is in line with recent incarnations of the Dark Judges and how they are presented in comic form; but, Deadworld strikes me as an opportunity to get away from the rigid narrative styling of an artist like Staples and explore the Dark Judges with some more kinetic cartooning. I'd call this a quibble owing to personal taste, but I get the sense that the reader will really feel hand-cuffed by the narrative rigidity of this art style.

The next best jumping on point, according to Tharg, is going to be a few weeks away in Prog 1950. I'll likely spend next week expanding on some of my issues with what will be left of the current run, as well as digging into whatever new stuff Tharg throws our way.

What felt claustrophobic about previous Deadworld chapters is absent in a story that feels like it has a lot more motion, and really benefits from a well-executed penultimate page where color livens up a more traditional page layout. I think Deadworld might have also picked up some because it's gaining some momentum into the story's climax. Either way, I enjoyed this chapter for more than just its set-pieces.

Deadworld's final chapter drew some eerie parallels between the Judge system on earth and Death's “Judge” system in Deadworld, and The Alienist's final chapter was probably its strongest one: I just wish I had warmed up to it sooner (it was just so damn talky!) Next week is a massive jumping on week, but between “Ghost Town” and “Re-Incarn-8,” Prog 1949 wasn't hard to enjoy for first time readers either.

And seriously, appreciating Dayglo and McCarthy's work on Bad Company only requires eyes that mostly work.

I haven't read Sinister Dexter before, but I'm intrigued. I like the idea of a straight hitman buddy comedy in the midst of all this sci-fi stuff. So far, I'm a fan of the art: I've seen Goddard's lines at work previously in Savage, and I think his gritty characters benefit greatly from De La Cruz's color work. I'm always down for a hardboiled crime comic, so I'm interested to see if this one delivers on the quality of its initial setup.

I guess despite Bad Company and Sinister Dexter's strong showings; I was a little shoulder-shruggy about this issue. The fact that Defoe just doesn't do it for me probably isn't helping things. But with the Progs, there's always next week, and usually a *meh* week is followed by a week that builds on things in a satisfying way.

Just in time for Halloween, this was my favorite chapter of Defoe yet. I'm not entirely sure why the series hasn't clicked with my previously, but I was a little more comfortable with how wide open this particular bit of the story felt. Others were, I think, claustrophobic out of necessity, and while that's well and good, zombies really aren't my thing, and this chapter made the undead bit feel like more of a sliver of what was going on, rather than the main selling point. And, as always, the art was great.

A lot of fun in this issue of a lot of different kinds. One of those rare issues where you could probably show it to somebody with little knowledge of any of the titles and, despite the fact that most are in the middle of a story, they very well may want to jump on.

Brass Sun ticks and tocks along with another great chapter. My favorite part was obviously where the fragment of… well, the fragment of God, essentially, said that “shit happens.” I thought it was a poignant assertion by Edginton that even in the world of Brass Sun in its current state as literally designed by a grand watchmaker to operate by precise parameters, shit happens. Edginton is all about leveraging Culbard's great art to tell this story piece by piece, and constantly makes little dialog or general story decisions that keep the philosophical elements present in this series. It never feels heavy-handed, and the deep aspects of this series don't drive it, but remain a constant part of the world.

The first page is just a guy sitting, getting up, and walking down some stairs to see if his flatmate is having trouble getting inside. That's boring; but, Doherty renders it as visually interesting, while maintaining a claustrophobic sense of foreboding with the small, bite-sized, pedantic assault of story beats present on the single page. As things continue on to the monstery action, the comic just flows while maintaining the dreary black/white/gray aesthetic throughout. The sequentials are great, the monster designs are great, and the story in “Night Shift” is just pure good fun with a really clever twist.

Let's talk Bad Company this week, in an issue where Dredd sputters and this Terror Tale is truly creepy.

We get a double helping of Defoe this week, which I've been markedly lukewarm about. I have pointed out that some chapters feel less claustrophobic in their use of too much black, however, and I thought these chapters definitely fell into that category. Defoe benefits from a little more length, and a chance to balance intrigue with adventure… and some awesome masks to boot. Seriously, I love those masks.

This chapter of Defoe comes to an end, in what was probably my favorite set of chapters in the whole bit. Having very little prior experience with Defoe, it took me awhile to warm up to it. The last few chapters have been a great mix of story an action that didn't rely so much on 1. me knowing what the hell was going on or 2. me enjoying zombies.

If you're looking for a Prog to pick up, with art from Flint, Burns, Davis, Dayglo, Ezquerra and more, this is a great place both to jump onto new runs of old titles, and discover some killer artists doing great work in a storytelling pressure cooker.

That reason is John Wagner. Ezquerra is at all-times excellent at building the worlds according to the blueprints that Wagner gives him. The originality of Wagner, however, is at least an equal boon to the series. First, he's clever enough to give Ezquerra any excuse to draw massive spaceships, something that I absolutely love to see from Ezquerra. Second, he packs big sci-fi concepts into short chapters and quickly juxtaposes them against the no-nonsense attitude of Johnny Alpha. The Galanthan race of this “Repo Men” arc is one of those inherently interesting sci-fi concepts. Throw in a twist of heist movie with a dash of “how are these morons going to pull this off?” and you've set up a fun little caper told in a visual language Ezquerra was built for.

Kingdom is growing on me, and Strontium Dog continues to be excellent, making the Progs a solid read right now.

Honestly, Strontium Dogis the only other title that fully has its shit together in the Progs right now, with an interesting caper of a story and the usual tight sequentials. Kingdom is… fine? At the moment, it just feels like a car chase with a lot of bug swatting. That's a little reductive, but typically when I'm reading the Progs, I'm expecting a little more than stacked horizontal action panels.

Kingdom isn't necessarily *slow*, but it's completely built around the action, which is fine, but has never really been my jam to begin with. Thins in Dredd and even The Order have room to pick up, so hopefully the lull breaks soon.

Things felt a little steadier this week, but outside of Strontium and Kingdom, the stories being told feel really heavy in addition to the other problems I am having getting through them.

It seems as if my complaints might be different or at least diluted if this story were released monthly in longer blocks; however, it isn't. My experience of the story is defined by reading it as a weekly smaller installments: it either succeeds or fails as consumed in that manner.

Strontium Dog's excellent “Repo Men” arc comes to a close, and there just aren't enough words in English for me to continue to praise Ezquerra, especially in terms of how he draws things like ships and robots.

Kendall's super-duper-finely inked panels have a unique feel because they lean so heavily on the darkness inherent in Deadworld without relying on the solid blacks that most comic creators would use to depict similar themes and scenes. Kendall instead mostly relies on a general dark blue blotted throughout his scenes, which is far more natural than pure black inks and, for that reason, a lot more disturbing. You can actually imagine yourself experiencing horror in this kind of lighting.

Survival Geeks is still a hoot, and not even overwhelmingly so despite the fact that the band of misfits has doubled in size now that they're in the dimension-hopping home of their gender-swapped alternate universe counterparts.

Brink and Tainted round out that contrast, but I confess to not enjoying Brink as much as I typically enjoy anything Culbard gets his mitts on. From the beginning, the whole thing has been very chatty, and I'm still waiting for it to break away from that and offer something more stimulating. I think this happens with stories handed to Culbard at times, but even though his style is interesting enough to carry the pages, Brink feels impenetrable. I constantly have the urge to go back and read the last few in order to feel like I'm really absorbing the story. Sometimes, I don't mind putting that kind of work in. At least this far into the story, however, it's unclear what warrants that much investment on my end as a reader.

Whatever small overall nitpicks I might have, the craft within this comic and the richness of the ideas and the art make for a must-buy if you enjoy fantasy comics.

I don't think Yorris is like that, nor do I think many of the other projects under Brandon Graham's umbrella at Image are. I love that. I love having to sink my teeth into a comic, and being rewarded for doing so. But some people don't read comics like that. Nothing about this comic, to my mind, is so unclear that the gist of the situation is ever a confusing mystery, however, and that's obviously a bad kind of obtuse that should be generally avoided, and certainly isn't present here.

It's possible that my problem is half with the overall story pace (~30 pages that are repetitive in some ways and limited to a one-shot) and half with the billing this story received, since it lacked the gravitas of a one-off story, or the visual/story themes of a halloween story beyond the mere presence of vampires. Still, if you really like Adventure Time, I don't see any reason to avoidthe title, necessarily.

I think some people might hesitate to buy this because it's not part of a several-issue story or a whole-issue story in itself; however, I think the opposite thing should motivate you. I think it's a great idea to have a short collection of stories from different artists with different visions, and I think it makes for a fun single-issue experience that's otherwise missing in the age of the trade. There are automatically more ways to engage with and appreciate Adventure Timeeven if you don't love every single story in this issue, and that's refreshing. It's also a great way to discover writer/artists who are doing great work elsewhere in comics.

I can't in good conscience sit and read a story that hypothetically asks “in the future, what if this was us?” when the subject matter–the animus, the racism, the violence, the death, the squalor, the unfairness–when all of this shit isreal, I can't sit and enjoy some futuristic Think Piece about immigration that uses such an imposing, soul-crushing problem as a foundation to make people with brown skin the bad guys. That's fucked.

I cannot insist that you go out and buy this comic, but there really were a lot of impressive little nuggets in what seems like a ridiculous pairing. I can at the very least promise that you won't regret taking a chance on it if you even sort of think it's your kind of book.

There is no reason to buy this comic unless you are interested in ignoring the story and studying the art. Maybe Valiant has more planned for this outing, but you shouldn't have to pay four bucks just to wait to find out.

If you are always up for an adventure, are a fan of sci-fi/fantasy, or just a huge nerd for world-buildery, I can safely recommend Brass Sun's story. Despite this recommendation, however, I have to emphasize that I am not reviewing this story in a bubble and am reviewing the product being released today, a 208 page,25.00,hardcover collection. And in my opinion, hardcovers are the kind of thing you buy only if youknowyou are going to love a story, or have already read it elsewhere and plan on rereading it and showing it off for the rest of your life. If you're heeding my recommendation and think Brass Sun is worth a shot, buy it digitally at 9.99, or wait for the paperback.

Maybe there's hope for efficient and interesting motion comics to the point where some might make a good transition to the printed page. But Captain Stone #1 is the negative paragon of everything such transcriptions will have to fix in order to make this work in the future.

There might be some First Issue Blues happening here, but I can't see the wishy-wash art being a selling point for me even if things with Baboushka pick up. I love the idea of a female spy, but there's just not enough here for me to love the idea of this female spy. It's entirely possible this comic just isn't for me, but I still think this issue is a sub-optimal gateway for anybody to enjoy this series.

It was my biggest problem with Bitch Planet while reading it: packaging something as feminist literature does not make it so. But Bitch Planet was also at least trying to be feminist in its content. It might sound harsh, but for the Codename Baboushka story to earn its back-matter, the story ought to work harder to be a fresh story for a female protagonist, rather than a tired, typically-male story that might as well read as if it was gender-swapped.

At this point, only one issue in, the very identity of this story is the biggest question being asked by the story itself. I do not doubt that this creative team will deliver the answer. The question for me remains–and it's a small one in the grand scheme of this book, but certainly one to keep an eye on–whether or not these extra bits of narrative scaffolding begin to more clearly support a book that already seems to have enough going for it.

On top of everything else, this issue leaves the reader with a massive “OK; what the FUCK?” which is always nice. More than that, though, I think it leaves the reader waiting to see what other ways this creative team can succeed with this approach to storytelling.

The difference is interesting and important, though. Six-Gun Gorilla was about other stories in a very general way: it was a statement about any and all stories. WhereCry Havoc does currently have some similar meta-threads developing, it is also very directly and decisively a story about specific other stories. You could argue at the very center of this story along with whatever it is that Louise is really going through is a story built on the back of genuine folkloric bits and pieces. When considered as such, Si's annotations come off less like “let me explain” and more like an acknowledgment of the fact that these are campfire stories through-and-through, and it gives Cry Havoc an equivalent sort of campfire feel.

Through all of this philosophizing and self-reflection and advice-columning and Spurrier's own incitement of this both in his challenge to the press and in his appendices throughout these issues, Cry Havoccan feel a little academic (goodness knows the length of this review alone would make it admissable in to several reputable academic journals). But I think that's probably off-base: Cry Havocis a work that makes you ask what you want from the stories in your life. It is a story that prepares you and then places you in a situation to face how you and the people around you treat the untouchable or unverifiable features of the world. Either you take up the challenge in earnest, or wake up one morning to find out you're an insufferable shit who knows a dozen movie casting factoids but can't remember the last time he got lost between the panels of a comic book.

That said, I do like how Tommaso cleverly uses the news on the television as a quick way to keep the threads of the story connected between different issues. Still, despite it being a classic pulp move to really zoom in on a particular characters story for a little while, this issue felt a little heavy-handed to me. Since its ultimate thrust is “hey, look how fucked Carter is,” no one part of his debauchery alone is all that interesting.

If crime comics aren't your thing, or if you have an irreconcilable fear of pulpyness, this isn't the comic for you. Outside of that, grab an issue if you're curious.

Telling the stories in parallel like this sometimes makes each story feel truncated. Tommaso in this issue, for instance, sort of foregoes a cliffhanger in order to get both stories in. It also limits the pace at which we find out about any given character. While this is a useful way to keep people interested, sometimes it feels a little too fragmented. To be fair, the action and the visuals are the main reasons to read this comic, and I think the character work generally takes care of itself. In other words, there's not a lot you need to understand about a hitman or seven women going around killing mobsters to appreciate them.

As the two threads of this comic continue to inch ever-so-slightly more towards convergence, Dark Corridor remains a worthwhile jaunt through sequential art, and increasingly becomes more readable for people who aren't just obsessed with page design and pulp.

I am massively underwhelmed. This is an award winning anthology, but it really did not read like one. Your five bucks is better saved for a smaller press anthology or a local independent title lying around your comic shop.

There are a few books on the stands right now with creative teams that are in lock-step. Deadly Class is the longest tenured of these books, and the most complete package, which is especially impressive given a change in colorists on a title where color really is pulling a third of the weight.

In a lot of ways, the violence in Deadly Class isn't really senseless since you ought to be buying into the absurdly violent circumstances these kids have been forced into and their resultant need to survive. To the creative team's credit, the tragic bits of this story always feel tragic, and they are doing a stellar job of depicting this high-stakes, high-octane drama one issue after the other.

I'm chalking this one up to first-issue blues. There's a lot of promise here, and less room to repeat these mistakes once the plot is in full motion.

Even if you're built in to the demographic of this comic, you're going to have a hard time enjoying it. It requires you to really imagine that this is an episode of the show occurring; otherwise, you have to focus on pages of comics where people are just talking to each other in a minefield of bright colors and stock comic poses. It really seems like three is a crowd, and I don't know how much I want to stick around to see how a fourth curmudgeonly old man fixes things.

In short, nothing about this book grabbed me, at least not in a positive way. The only reason that I would come back is for my love of Nine, Rose, and Jack, and that's a reason I would have even if the book was worse than this one. It's not a crime for something not to be excellent, but if the most special part of the story is the brand you licensed in order to write it, what reason is there to buy it?

I did not recommend picking up this book after issue one and though I am not completely sold, I am at least now on the fence. If you have picked up both issues and are simply wondering whether or not to stick with it, I vote yes on seeing where this goes, especially after the noticeable improvement from issue one to issue two.

The page layouts worked, the colors were great, and there were no signs of the stylistic identity crises that made the first issue so visually hectic. The third issue of this series has captured the cinematic appeal of the show while still working on the printed page. Despite my problems with the first two issues, there's now a decent chance that I'll be able torecommendthis series, when all is said and done.

I know that everyone doesn't read comics like me. Some people are way more into the tunnel-vision sort of narrative aspects than they are into cool layouts or fun fuckery with colors. But none of that changes the fact that From Under Mountainsasks the reader to play close attention to what's happening in the comic while rising to meet that scrutiny with artistic choices that both stand on their own and further enhance earlier (and later) artistic choices as well.

That kind of reader-character distance is a powerful tool for a writer. At some point, though, maintaining the distance will make me feel more like I'm a tourist looking at a story under glass than someone actually watching the story unfold. I'm happy to stare at this artwork all day, but I'm hoping that this comic will soon make me feel less like I'm staring and more like I'm immersed.

Make no mistake: From Under Mountains is not style over substance. Its style and substance are inextricable, something which makes perfect sense for a comic that is constantly striving to take full advantage of the pictorial narrative medium. The overall plot of this series remains more obtuse than most, but with issues like this one, it's a price I'm willing to pay. From Under Mountains is put together in such a way that it forces the reader to stop and appreciate what the creators are doing with the art form. That's good comics.

If you put down this comic one or two issues ago, I encourage you to pick it back up. This issue really was that good.

The big publishers crank out plenty of assembly line comics with different writers, artists, colorists, letterers, flatters, hype-men, pit crews, pool boys–ok, sorry, but we fucking get it. Comics don't have to be a collaborative medium, andIsland#2 is a great reminder of the potential for real cartoonists to tell exciting, original stories on a highly visible platform.

The first big chunk of this issue, before Bertrand's work, is “Badge of Pride” by the Japanese artist ONTA. Put simply, it's a comic about furries. It has a lot more to it however: it's about queerness, friendship, being proud of who you are, and finding a way to fit in when all of those things require a lot of work given the society around you. As a straight white dude who will always be slightly confused by the mere concept of furries, I don't know if I'm the most qualified to write about this. I will say, though, that I thought it was a cute little story, and I thought ONTA did a good job depicting a main character that was easy to empathize with, independent of his particular orientation or species.

Of course my favorite part of “Habitat” is… well, the habitat. When Roy draws a spread it never disappoints; but, because of his visceral drawing style, fight scenes can feel like a real mess. Even when this makes for some hard-to-follow reading, that's not totally a bad thing. When people are murdering each other and destroying machinery and stuff is exploding and people are bleeding, things aren't cut, dry, and neat: they're chaotic. Roy captures that chaos, just a little too well sometimes. Despite how overwhelming some of these sequences are, there is usually a panel or two worth pausing on to appreciate how much detail Roy puts into a single panel, even when the story is moving quickly.

At this point, the comic review skeptic is shaking his or her fist and berating me for criticizing the story based on what I wish the story was. But I think that is to misunderstand the point that I'm making: as a person writing a script of a #1 issue of a comic you have ajob to do. There are aspects of that job that you either do well or poorly, and those are the main factors that determine whether or not I continue to read your comic. Sure, it's my fault that I did not come for the action story with flowery prose: but Mono's failure is in not making me want to comeback.

Ultimately this sad tale becomes a love story wrapped in a monster story: a dangerous liaison that lives up to its name, surely. There is something really triumphant aboutNegative Space#1 and its ability to mix together so many genres without stepping away from such a simple and sad story. That all of this was achieved within a first issue borders on upsettingly fantastic.

I can't think of another book where the art is this unique and aesthetically pleasing but also this effective at keeping the narrative moving from page to page without any starts or stops.

Of course, those moments are gone, and those things are, in and of themselves, sort of shit. But what better place for Guy to find himself and what is most important to him than in a piece of himself that was seared in anguish onto a kitchen utensil? Even the things which inspire memories that hurt us connect us to the past in meaningful ways. At the right time, that can mean everything. Acknowledging an importantly human emotional truth while the hero is in the throes of a monster attack as he tries to take down a massive evil corporation? That's fantastic.

Unfortunately, Corben hits all the formal notes but the story falls flat. I just don't really care about what's going on, and everything just feels so stiff and contrived. The story functions better if you treat it as some sort of feverish nightmare, acting as if there are no real stakes for anybody involved. You could argue that good horror stories should be like this, but that just doesn't seem true. Rat God#4 suffers in particular because it doesn't get to carry any of the story and is mostly a diving board into the story's climax. If you're big-time into Corben, or just appreciate a weird tale with some formal flourishes, I can't stop you from buying this title. But there's certainly no reason to rush off to your LCS, or to be particularly excited about the climactic issue.

There's just so much personality packed into a comic which already benefits from the personalities of its characters: the colors and letters set a whimsical tone without making any one page more overwhelming than it has to be. I'm excited for the rest of this story arc.

Maybe that seems nitpicky to you, but one of the reasons that theRegular Showcomic is one of the few things that has been consistently on my pull list is because the page layouts frequently take advantage of the fact that they are comics and not just cartoons in a book. I need a reason to come back toRick and Mortyrather than just watching the television show. Especially given the character of this show, I would really like to see the design of these stories push some boundaries.

If you're a fan of the series, I really don't see any reason to avoid this title. If you're a fan of comics in general and looking to branch out, I would honestly just recommend the television show first. I know it's not the best move for a reviewer to criticize a work for something thatIthink the creators ought to do. The criticism isn't any less valid, though: if I'm looking for reasons why people should give this comic a chance, I think it bears mentioning that you could get largely the same experience turning on your TV (assuming you already pay for cable) and watching this show, and that paying separately for this comic will just add a particular storyboard, and not a unique experience.

The characters and script are all there, so I still can't dissuade you if you're a really big fan of the show. The art is not bad at all: it's justtoo level-headed. I don't even think a new artist is necessarily warranted. I did not mind this exact same art for the short-form story at the end. It feels like too much of something meant for a Sunday comic strip and not enough of something which takes full advantage of a page. I think the short-form stories take better advantage of the form than the long-form, several issue story that we are currently seeing, which would function far better on the TV screen.

I still would like to see this comic push the boundaries and offer a fresh visual interpretation of these characters and locales; but, if this creative team continues to crank out one-shot stories that are this entertaining, it's worth buying, especially if you enjoy the show.

I've got no problem with the quality of the content of these stories, but with yet another issue making me wish I had the story on my TV screen, I think it's time to pack it in.

This issue largely existed as an inciting moment for the situation around which this story will revolve, and in that sense I can't be too hard on it since it has to start somewhere; but, I don't care about Rain as a character just yet, and would have appreciated some more context for this character (which gives me more reason to come back for #2), rather than the unqualified context I get in the beginning sequence.

In that moment the story kind of betrayed itself and pulled back the curtain on another one of my issues with the first two issues: I don't care about Rain and yet everyone in the story is focused on suggesting that I should. Even in this small moment when she takes down her friend, a bunch of people become fixated on Rain, as if you would give a shit about some random drunk person lashing out randomly like on any other Friday. The world ofRun Love Killis a world singularly built, even in small story beats, around this one person who I have no reason to care about beyond her awesome character design. I get that we are saving the truth of her character's situation for later in the eight issues, but let's be real: I'm not going to keep reading just to find something out. And if I am–if I am reading your comic just because I want to make sense of it–then I am not reading because I am entertained by the story, or because I have some kind of stake in the characters.

Ultimately, She Wolf #1 is full of enjoyable sequences that feel like they are quick to go nowhere. Tommaso's broken inks, colorful speech bubbles, and knack for settings comprise a solid, interesting visual identity for this story. The focus on tone, however, ends up feeling monotonous, and ultimately leaves me decidedly undecided on this comic.

Most of the conversational sequences feel verbose and cramped, with the minimally talky closing sequence setting up the future of this comic. The inks feel blocky and heavy-handed at times, but for the most part it fits the tone the book is shooting for. And the cover… well, the cover is clunky, as seems to be the case with the rest of the Rebirth books so far. Thereal Clark might be back (actually, isn't eventhisSuperman not the original one?), but I'm not sure the tight, iconic visual identity that we associate with the Man of Steel returned with him. Hey, at least they brought back the original numbering of Action Comics: good to know DC is focusing on the important things.

The problem with making Jon the locus is it turns Superman into this hyper-defensive, Mel Gibson shouting “GIVEMEBACKMYSON” type of father, and every time there's even a hint of threat to his son, he just goes straight to punching. While I understand that defending his wife and child in this sort-of-foreign earth has put Supes on edge, you'd think that even when it comes to defending his family he would be a little more… admirable. Yeah, yeah, it's great that he's defending his family, and when the threats are this serious it's not like I want him to smile and nod; but, at a certain point, continuously putting him in this position is going to make him a pretty one-dimensional character. Specifically because I expect Superman to do anything to protect his wife and his blood it's a bad idea to just make him punchy-punch family man every single issue.

What at first seemed like a promising exploration of Jon's human/Kyrptonian heritage is really just a dick-measuring contest that used his heritage as a touchstone. The moment at which Superman takes all the Kryptonian souls inside of himself from the Eradicator is just too on-the nose: we get it, he's the best possible torch-bearer of his race, not some unthinking xenophobic genocidal alien. It's weird to see that metaphor so explicitly evinced when almost every goddamn Supermanstory gets this point across.

If that's the case, then the book is even more problematic than I'm suggesting. If I'm supposed to be reviled by the main character to that degree, then The Fix is a series dedicated to humanizing and making light of a guy (a lot of light, mind you; making supernova of the motherfucker) who looks up to murderous cops. It's one thing to lampoon something. It's another thing to make a morally damaging aspect of our society the centerpiece of your work only to shrug at it in order move on to twenty pages of what amount to fart jokes juxtaposed with scenes of torture.

Remember, I'm not just reviewing this product in a bubble: it costs money. To get two full stories like this, reprinted and all in one place is a pretty great deal for twenty bucks. If you were just gettingThe New York Four, I don't think I'd recommend the purchase, but since the trade being released by Dark Horse collects both stories, and sinceThe New York Fivereally takes this work somewhere splendid, the price is more than fair: there isn't a better way to read these stories. Grab a copy.

Ultimately, if the premise of a never-ending cycle ofde factoindenturedsuper-repo-heroes doesn't appeal to you and you'd rather read a house-art style book about Bruce Wayne stocking tinker toys in a kindergarten or some shit, it's your loss. It remains to be seen if this series really has anywhere to go, but it made a great first step in delivering on a hum-dinging elevator pitch of a premise, and damn is it pretty to look at.

I love that this comic is not afraid to be silly, especially since the premise, despite being sadly believable in its own way, is ultimately quite silly. But The Paybacks is not itself a parody: it's a comedy, and though it perhaps runs parallel with satire at times (especially in issue #1), this is shaping up to be a gorgeously rendered hero story of its own. Just like some of these characters borrowed some junk in order to be heroes, this creative team has borrowed the idea of superheroes from those far less deserving and, far from defaulting on the loan, they're making a hero story worth reading.

I might stick around for answers to these questions even if the comic didn't look so good; but, with its mix of humor, intrigue, compelling characters, and superhero-punchery, I'm in this for the long haul.

From the cover, to the aforementioned spread, to the work on expressions, to the work on the backgrounds (christ, the guy has to draw a labyrinth inside of a mansion inside of a van), Shaw is putting in work that comprises a complete package you just won't see in many other comics on shelves.

The artistic team and Cornell are singing in unison on this one, and the result is a crisp narrative pace that actually feels like a documentary. Pages most often revolve around individual characters in order to flesh out the world in which this story takes place and advance the plot. The steady narrative tempo that gives the first bits of this story its distinct feel makes the record-scratch of an ending all the more satisfying.

I'm not convinced that this title is beyond salvation, but this particular issue was a big miss for me.

Yes, I know. I'm painfully aware. It's essentially all I'm aware of. The end of the first issue made me think I was in for an adventure, but every time we're on the brink of something, the story backpedals, and these talented artists are robbed of a chance to strut their stuff.

Kudos to IDW and to Disney for working together to bring us this line of stories. $3.99 an issue will not set me back nearly as much as an Italian edition of Rosetta Stone. And only one of those things features a rich old Scottish duck in a dress because anambiguouslyRussian rat tailor keeps trying to steal his jacket.

Add in the fact that you just can't get these stories anywhere else unless you're scouring Dutch comic bins (and can read Dutch) and this is just a great little project IDW's got going on.

I think that the backmatter from Davisson explaining the history of Yokai being systematically removed from having such a huge role in Japanese society is instructive of how Zub is thinking about this title: Zub is using this artistic team to put the magic back into these settings. Wayward shows that a little bit of mythology goes a long way in telling a magical story.

Wayward is a rare book these days that is very clear on its strengths. It's a superpower and coming of age story that mostly reads like the latter, in a market saturated with similar books that have mostly given up trying to be anything more than psuedo-intellectual punch-fests. The violence in this title, even when it's as gratuitous as it becomes in this issue, almost always feels like a footnote to me: that these kids have to fight stuff is always something that is built up to instead of being taken for granted from the beginning of each arc. While the story is also too busy to really focus on the characters as much as it once did, this arc is very much built on the backs of the prevoius two arcs, and things are about as exciting in this title as they have ever been.

Still, specifically because the comic is being scripted in a manner that leaves no mystery as to its overarching themes, the fights can afford to take the time to be depicted as nitty-gritty. The young kitsune who has just joined the group is herself an embodiment of the young vs. old, “these kids don't respect their elders” theme, which clunkily gets integrated into the fight against her elders. At a certain point, Wayward lays it on too thick with its theme, and in the framing of the battle, it overwhelms the action.

While the brisk pace of this series was one of the more successful things about the previous arc, the older characters are starting to be alienated, and it's something that needs to be balanced soon.