I assume this whole story will set up a more appropriate introduction of our hero. Great villains make for great heroes as they say. What’s disappointing is I don’t get to enjoy seeing our Green Lantern in action like previous Absolute heroes. Although the Absolute series is a reboot of classic DC origin stories, each retelling features a hero well versed in their abilities and overall mission. Al Ewing, on the other hand, submits a story that does not showcase our hero at all. A decision that deftly avoids any critique of her abilities. Is this a ploy to diffuse DEI rhetoric? Possibly. I’m willing to give Ewing the benefit of the doubt. However, he has a lot to prove with issue 2.

In a world where one woman’s bad day is about to become everyone’s worst nightmare, Todd McFarlane Productions proudly presents… BLOODLETTER!, a Joseph Illidge and Tim Seeley production! Get ready for a pulse-pounding, high-octane thrill ride as the baddest Black woman this side of Hell unleashes a whole new brand of payback. You thought you knew revenge? You ain’t seen nothing yet. And believe me, that’s exactly the type of movie production treatment this comic book deserves!

Beneath the action and intrigue, there are layers of sexual tension and identity politics you’d normally find in cinematic storytelling. It sounds like a lot, but the Cokers weave it all together beautifully, like a multi-layered song. The book opens with a chaotic robbery in Soho, London, then seamlessly transitions to a childhood memory in Benin City, Nigeria. We’re then dropped into a London gallery, a scene that will remind readers of Michael B. Jordan’s powerful moment in Black Panther, where he reclaims his own legacy in a similar British museum —a theme that echoes throughout this book.

While the intense romantic focus occasionally threatens to overshadow the broader narrative, the underlying mysteries and the evocative art of Tefenkgi ensure that Bronze Faces #3 remains a compelling chapter in this unfolding saga. I’m still invested to see where Shobo and Shof take this story.

This issue picks up right where the last volume left us, with the death of our hero Zeke Jenkins by the hands of the story’s villain Monica Thorne. The ominous tone sets up the long awaited stand off between Thorne and the Jenkins family, with Sergeant Andrea Jenkins leading the charge. For newbies, this issue reminds me of watching soap operas with my mother — although you’ll be thoroughly entertained, newcomers will be badgering Guillory with a list of incessant questions. Like, “why won’t Thorne kill Jedidiah? What’s so important about Zeke’s mother’s dead body? Why do some of the “plant folks” in Freetown, Louisiana look bad, others look worse and some look downright disgusting.” Some of these questions are part of Farmhand’s mystique; other answers can be found in previous volumes. read more at blackcomixuniverse.com

Days ago, Rob Guillory, creator of Farmhand (and the Eisner Award winning Chew) announced he’d just drawn his last page of Farmhand, ever. The finality of that statement resonates with me as I read pages of issue 22 : The Orphan. There is a palpable sense of urgency to make it to the finish line. However, Rob doesn’t seem to be rushing the process. The storytelling remains evenly paced and the artwork is masterful.

I was hoping for a narrative at least as compelling as the testimonies we’ve been following in the Diddy trials. Instead, what we received feels more like a Black Dahlia mystery in the way it presents Los Angeles using old Hollywood motifs, or perhaps it’s Cowan and Sienkiewicz art that gives the work its classic noir aesthetic. Although executed beautifully, this is not the dark hip-hop tale I was promised. Furthermore, the script at this point feels uninspired and doesn’t even keep pace with the world invented by conspiracy theorists on YouTube and entertainment blogs.

Building upon the groundwork laid in the 2023 Marvel Voices #1 (Free Comic Book Day) short story, Bad Chemistry delves deeper into the history of Ironheart’s nemesis, Khem, revealing her intricate connection to the villain Chemistro (First appearance Hero for Hire, 1974). Jennings’ signature approach of revitalizing classic, lesser-known Bronze Age characters, as seen in Ghostlight, is once again on display. Jennings’ meticulous research, a hallmark of his work, shines through in the story’s depth. Morales complements this with deft handling of both flashback sequences and dynamic action scenes.

I couldn’t help but wonder if Priest wasn’t inspired by Angela Basset yelling on the big screen, “Remind them who you are!!”. Because it seems as if he went straight home and did just that with this story. It explains why this first issue reads like Christopher Priest’s Greatest Black Panther Hits — Everett Ross’s humor, the power of the Dora Milaje, the absurdity of Wakandan geo-politics are all an homage to his own Marvel Knight’s series. As if to say, “Allow me to reintroduce myself..”. Cue Jay-Z’s Public Service Announcement.

So, what is Monkey Meat? Just as Donald Glover’s Atlanta is a surrealist take on the movie Friday, Ba’s Monkey Meat is a surrealist take on Disney’s Moana. In the first issue of Monkey Meat: Summer Batch we are reintroduced to Thaddeus Lug, a god-like being similar to Disney’s Maui, whose soul is in the clutches of a ruthless corporation. Ba explores the potential consequences of this Faustian bargain, mirroring Disney’s own appropriation of folklore for commercial gain. The result is a story that is both tragic and humorous in spite of itself. Ba furthers this idea with the introduction of Monkeagle and Monkey-Girl, a parody of Batman and Robin. In their story, Ba suggests that both superhero and fan are ultimately shackled to each other. An arrangement that seems innocent enough until the two somehow gain sentience and demand to be set free.

Reading Mr. Terrific issue 1 sparked a feeling of 90s déjà vu. I’m not sure if it was Valentine De Landro’s art, which feels like an illustrative homage to John Paul Leon of Milestone fame (Static, Earth X), or Al Letson’s story, echoing the origin of Curtis Metcalf, aka Hardware. With these inspirations in tow, Letson delivers a compelling re-imagining of today’s Mr. Terrific, breathing life into a character often portrayed as stoic and emotionally detached.

I’ve seen Hill assemble a similar group before in the pages of Batman and the Outsiders (DC Comics 2019).  Another super team that operated on the fringes of the DC universe. That said, knowing that this comic is in good hands, I can sit back and enjoy the ride. (full review @ blackcomixuniverse.com)

I don’t consider myself a pacifist, yet from a literary perspective, violence alone as a form of justice lacks ingenuity. Therefore, I’m not here to see racist cops get their heads blown off. I’m here to experience three intelligent Black women transforming themselves into warriors. Allen and artist Mauricio Campetella carefully map out our heroes’ journey from college graduation to their first kill. The process is precise and meticulous. The montage where they shave their heads and train like Navy SEALs is captivating, and Allen’s narration adds a cadence to the visuals that locks the audience in. The costume design, with its “emoji” masks, adds a masterful cinematic touch reminiscent of Dead Presidents.