I'm glad that the series is going to keep on motoring on. When it comes right down to it Felipe Smith is offering up an intriguing version of this character within an interesting narrative and I'm optimistic that Damion Scott is up to the challenge of making this very visual book his own. As an individual issue though, things aren't quite at peak performance just yet.

There's a lot that works about the art, by Larry Watts, as well. His lines, combined with colors by Aikau Oliva, bring an exaggerated style to the book without taking the aesthetic too far afield of the films. It's like the best Saturday morning cartoon adaptation of Army of Darkness that fans could hope for, and I think bringing that cartoony quality to the property is an ingenious move. It would have been incredibly easy for the creative team to have said, "Evil Dead, that's horror, so the art should be shadowy and dark." This would have led to a book that was much more visually akin to the majority of horror comics currently being published. The fact that they didn't go that route sets the book apart, and, after all, Sam Raimi's films have always had a certain cartoony quality to them. I love that the art team took that as a jumping off point, and Ash feels right at home.

This series has felt restrictive. There's been a claustrophobic nature to the way that the story has progressed. I constantly find myself coming to the end of each issue hoping that the next will break things wide open. I'm not sure how much longer I can hold onto that hope.

The art duties are split, with Kowalski handling the present day and Lude's story and Javier doing the art for Annastasjia's. The two artists do not have styles that are very divergent from one another, so the change isn't jarring. Javier's slightly sketchier lines do work well with the 1920s setting, giving the switch just enough context with the narrative to work as an effect. For some odd reason Juan Manuel Tumburus has made the odd choice with his coloring to give each character a splotchy filter for their complexion. I initially noticed it during Annastasjia's segment, thinking it was meant to give an indication that she was, in fact, a monster. Then I realized that it covers all the characters. Then I went back and realized it's been that way in each issue. So, it's an odd choice to make with the digital color, but it's obviously not so glaring an issue that I noticed it before being five issues in.

At the end of the day, I could forgive the lack of clear thematic exploration if the narrative itself worked. But the whole series has been oddly paced, lacking in clarity, and just not very scary.

The art in the book has a look that is ideal for the settings, which in this issue are mainly ancient China and Asgard. Koblish's lines and the dappled coloring by Val Staples feel right at home in both. Koblish has effectively altered his technique so that the opening portion has its own aesthetic. However, the visuals do get a bit vague in the battle scene that serves as the issue's climax.

In addition, the art makes many sections almost indecipherable. There's a helicopter dogfight early on in the book, and I honestly have no idea what was supposed to have occurred during it. This general theme, of the art making the action incredibly confusing, is present throughout the book; things just always feel at least somewhat confusing.

The art, by Davide Gianfelice, continues to effectively portray the kinetic nature of the storytelling, and action scenes, such as the shootout in this issue, are almost always easy to follow. There is a relaxed element to his art that draws attention to exactly where it needs to be. Subtle expressions are important when dealing with characters whose motives may not be what they seem, and Gianfelice is generally able to capture those elements. There are a few pages within this issue where the line work seems to break down just a bit too much, and there are some odd faces in a few panels. Overall though, the art does what the story needs it to.

As with the previous issues, the art team does an outstanding job keeping a lot of plates up in the air. The action in this issue is comprised of both ghosts and people fighting at the same time, and Davide Gianfelice keeps everything flowing smoothly. The differing ghost designs allow the reader to differentiate between the two sides fighting, while also playing into the narrative, and the violence gets explicit without becoming cringe-worthy.

Unlike the overall narrative, I actually am enjoying Browne's artwork. This does make me wonder if a version of this book, in which he was working with collaborator on writing, would be more up my alley. Like his writing, Browne's art is not subtle in the least. But the book definitely feels like it would be better served with these images and exposition that was a bit more reserved, whereas the same exposition with a more subtle art style would just not work in the least. I actually do really enjoy the creative usage of onomatopoeiae that aren't onomatopoeiae at all. But, amidst the barrage of just as ridiculous exposition, it just feels overwhelming.

Corona's art is perfectly in line with the original approach that's present in the writing. There's a very distinct anime vibe to the book, with large eyed characters and very exaggerated movement. There's a lot of action and blood and guts in this issue and Corona brings an incredible amount of dynamics to it all. The art was already good in issue one, but the addition of Steve Wands on inking duties, in combination with the colors by Gabriel Cassata, really makes this issue pop, and I'm looking forward to that continuing from here.

As with his writing, Wagner's art seems tailor made for the subject matter. He is constantly including small touches, such as film noir shadows and art deco architecture, and his characters look like modern iterations of old Detective Comics and Dick Tracy. These elements do an amazing job of engrossing the reader in the world and preventing the anachronistic dialogue from being a stumbling block.

I hope that DC keeps this iteration of the franchise going in one way or another. The creative team is doing a great job of bringing new life to something that, by all rights, should be relegated to bargain bin cheese. I mean, after this war with Hordak is behind him, it seems like it's about time for He-Man to see Skeletor resurface, right?

As with any anthology piece, Hellraiser: Bestiary has been a bit of a mixed bag. Ben Meares and Mark Miller's segments have proven to be the high points again this month. Overall, Bestiary provides readers that are interested in the franchise a read that feels more at home than we've seen in a long time.

The art, by Mitch Gerads, is angular and uncluttered. This usually works in the book's favor, allowing him to focus on finding new ways for Frank to hurt people and for people to hurt Frank. Gerads focuses his efforts on accurately representing the movement of the things he's drawing. The downside of this is that there isn't much continuity for anything from page to page. Even The Punisher himself goes from looking much like we normally see him represented to occasionally looking like Popeye. There is even one progression of panels in which Frank goes from having bruises all over his face to having a completely unblemished visage to looking beaten to a pulp again. So, much like the writing, when the focus is off of the action, things look off.

From an art standpoint, the entire book feels near perfect. John Cassaday is using the visual language of the movies here. There are numerous panels in this issue that use angles that are immediately recognizable from the films, and the pacing and treatment of the book's more kinetic moments add to this feeling even more. The design, with elements like the opening crawl and credits, really completes the picture.

I find myself conflicted regarding how well Millar's usual vivisection style approach would have served the story as a whole instead of the more earnest take we got. I'm sure that Millar's detractors will still have their own takes on the merits of how he chooses to tell his stories, but I found a lot to enjoy in Starlight, and that seems like more important than turning the vivisection in the direction of the author right now.

Roberto De La Torre's lines are sketchy and rough in a way that works perfectly for the book. The various denizens of the spirit world are all given their own visual flair-as is the world itself-and the world of the living is differentiated enough-with a style that De La Torre gives a more solid feel to-to make scene changes clear and meaningful but not jarring. Colorist David Baron doesn't go overboard complicating his work here, using a dual tone gradient effect in most places that works seamlessly with De La Torre's lines to craft the two worlds here.

The two different time frames being given their own distinct and appropriate art styles works incredibly well. Scott and Malhotra give us a cohesive X-Files world, despite the fact that we have a modern portion that is drawn in a dark manner that looks exactly like you'd expect it to and a portion taking place in the 40s that's been given a very old school comic strip aesthetic. With any property adapted from a live action source, likenesses of known characters can be a make or break element. For the most part, Scott (I assume that Greg Scott was responsible for the modern segments, based on the other work of the artists. I can't actually find any specific reference to who penciled what though) does a commendable job with our leads. This does, however, make it very distracting when a panel pops up in which one of them, usually Mulder, looks totally different.

Readers that are looking for the action movie blockbuster type stories that Tomb Raider used to focus on may feel left out in the cold still. But, with the last couple issues, the creative team seems to really be building toward a world where we get those elements, but also profit from the added character depth we've seen from Lara since the reboot. If they can iron out some of the kinks that are still popping up, that seems like a great combination to me.

The art by Nicolas Daniel Selma gives the book a visual boost, but doesn't really have any specific standout elements. He does demonstrate an ability to carefully keep the space that the action is taking place in well organized. We have characters moving from room to room, back again, into a basement, up again, and so on, and it would have been very easy to create a situation that was confusing for readers. The dynamics of the action are much improved over previous issues, and this is a welcome change. With a character that's this action based the feeling of movement that Selma imparts here is going to prove essential.

As with the writing, the art within the Cinderella section of the book comes across as the strongest. All of the art in the book is serviceable, but Bondoc's, in the Cinderella portion, is the most fitting for the fairy tale subject matter. While the rest of the book maintains a 2D, high contrast look, the visuals take on a slightly more painterly quality when Vampirella enters this second world. Bondoc's art also seems more consistent, in general, with less fluctuation in things such as character faces. There are some panels in which even Vampirella herself looks a bit odd, and, for a series so steeped in the world of cheesecake images, that's a bit of a problem.

In addition to the bulk of the book that is presented as “in universe,” there is also the short story, “Working Late,” about an early incident in Jackie Estacado's career as mob enforcer by Jed McPherson and Mike Crawford. The pair do a great job with the eight pages that their story is given. McPherson's tale provides a glimpse into a time when Estacado was not the cold blooded psychopath that he's presented as in his own series, and his dialogue accomplishes the exposition needed in this type of short segment without feeling like it's cramming too much info into my eyeballs. Similarly, Crawford's line work is detailed but clean, keeping things uncluttered while still maintaining a distinct look.