Written by Jonathan Hickman
Illustrated by Steve EptingOne of the four will fall!
This is it. This is the most talked about book of the year already, even though we’re only at the end of the first month. I managed to survive reading the story without it being spoiled for me (despite attempts from all angles to ruin it). Now that I’ve sat down and fully digested the story as it unfolded, what is the final word on “the Last Stand”?
As a note, mild spoilers are discussed. No names will be mentioned, but it is rather hard to discuss the story without alluding to certain elements. However, we at Multiversity love you as well as respect your right to enjoy the story on your own clock, so I’ll do my best. There is even an entire paragraph hidden behind a spoiler warning to help you navigate, and not reading that paragraph won’t take away from the review. It’s not like there isn’t a lot to talk about with an issue such as this.
Find out my thoughts after the cut.
Generally, one of the main problems any superhero book can have is that it may, at times, feel directionless. Most of the books we read have been around for 50 or more years at least. Many writers take on writing jobs for titles with the simple idea of arc to arc storytelling, with a possible end game in mind but not necessarily a grand scheme to go with it. Jonathan Hickman isn’t one of those writers.
Jonathan Hickman is a man who plans things out way in advance. Originally known for four to six issue minis on Image, Hickman is the kind of guy who you can always rely on to have a plan and an endgame in mind. These plans are often very elaborate and large (perhaps spanning several books in their entire scope, albeit by threads), and they are nevertheless always present. This is what makes Hickman’s storytelling so intriguing to follow. As you put your trust in him to tell a compelling story, he continuously delivers in the long haul stories that reward your participation in them – and Fantastic Four’s “3” is no different.
The first time we had heard of “3” was back in April 2010 at the Diamond Retailer’s Summit, and since then the arc has been rather heavily praised here at MC. The finale to the arc is assuredly no different. The arc so far has been a very interesting narrative, with ancillary tales full of the number Three woven into the very basis of the story: Three stories that tie together with Three different possible ways to die from Three rather large threats (war, Galactus, and Annihilus) that will ultimately have a tremendous effect on the Three remaining characters. Hickman’s storytelling brought us to a point with the previous issue that saw every character in some form of peril, and everyone was up to the chopping block in the reader’s eye. This left most of us on the edge of our seats in the month that took place between this issue and the last, as Hickman had managed to keep the secret of who would die close to the chest throughout the story (although looking back on it now, clues are of course there).
Of course, there’s really only one way it can play out. Only one character can die, and without spoiling anything or who it happens to, it is an incredibly organic death that seams beautifully into the storyline. Hickman has always been great at the story telling element of showing instead of telling: at no point in this arc or any previous arc did Hickman stop and explain what was going on. What readers had initially seen as a series of one-shots eventually came to play during this arc, as all of the cities that Hickman had briefly introduced (except that of the High Evolutionary) separated our team within the current story. The odd/fun thing about the way that Hickman tells his story is that a lot of it relies on the nature of the reader. If the reader is familiar with Marvel’s Atlantis or the N-Zone, then giving a single issue to the stories makes sense as it allows Hickman to keep his pace. It’s that nod of confidence to the reader that allows Hickman to establish a confident emotional relationship with us, because we actively immerse our knowledge of the N-Zone, Nu-World, or Atlantis into the story, allowing a fluid timeline between all of Fantastic Four and making us a participant in the title. Even for those that don’t, there’s an unspoken understanding that those readers will find out about what they don’t know now that they’ve been given an introduction. So as this things get worse for every character in the story, we find ourselves enthralled in the scenario even though Hickman didn’t spend 3 five issue arcs developing all the entities that are now offering up threats.
Continued belowBut that’s not what even makes the final scene so wonderful (as wonderful as a death scene can be). The webs that Hickman wove into earlier stories have come to an immense head here, and with the final moments of the issue Hickman – for essentially the first time in his entire run – gives us a truly familiar moment. Yes, Hickman has relied on his own form of storytelling techniques throughout the entire run of Fantastic Four so far, but the final moment is definitely the type of sequence you might see in other stories. He is able to slow the pace down at the end of the issue in order to deliver what can be boiled down to a heartfelt moment of selflessness, friendship, and heroism. This is the kind of moment that feels so big that in the back of your head you can already hear John Murphy’s “Sunshine (Adagio In D Minor)” playing*, and the pages are beautifully rendered by Epting in a cornucopia of visuals akin to the Hitch style of widescreen comic book art. It all comes down to this, and you can feel the pain of those onlooking as well as pride towards the final moment, which is in and of itself a testament to the character development Hickman has been laying throughout the entire story – both in that it shows tremendous growth, but also in that it ultimately does pay tribute to the character’s rich 50 years of existence as things are so stressful in this 11th hour.
That’s the key to Hickman’s story in the end. While the entire run has been about restoring many different elements of the Fantastic Four – their interpersonal relationship, their relevance in the scientific and heroic community, their adventurous family aspect – in many ways the story is about establishing the group as heroes. The Fantastic Four had lost direction within the last few years, moving from arc to arc and storyline to event, but Hickman brought us a more cohesive tale. We began Hickman’s run by following Reed try to solve how Norman Osborn became king of the world, and how to “fix” this. We’ve seen Sue step up to the plate as a patronly figure (and watched her stand against Namor, who has (to an extent) been somewhat of a sexual bully to her for years (and which was awesome)). We’ve seen Johnny move beyond that of the simple minded goofball to more of a brotherly figure, someone you can rely on and believe in, as well as watched Ben truly remember what it is to be a human among the super powered after years stuck in a rock casing. These are characters who have rediscovered themselves, and in a sense it makes the ensuing death that much more beautiful. It’s the clarification that the investment we’ve put in to watching the characters make a complete turn around from “average” superheroes has paid off, in that the finale is both heartbreaking and poignant. The finale even comes down to the point that no matter what pace you read at, the scene happens in slow motion, as you realize just how powerful the finale then became. If this isn’t heroism in a world of superheroes, then I don’t know what is.
What it will continue to mean in issues to come is only slightly apparent (not to ruin anything), and the impact it makes certainly stings. For the sake of not spoiling, I’ll blank this part of the review out (spoilers start here): Hickman had noted that Johnny’s death was important, and this is true. Johnny is the lightest part of the team, and this isn’t meant just in in the physical aspect of him being the Human Torch. While Johnny has always been a goofball type character, Hickman has centered him much more in his storytelling while keeping Johnny’s whimsicalness about him. We’ve seen Johnny in this arc alone be the best friend to Ben Grimm that anyone ever has been, and while the two have always been buddy-buddy, the relationship and friendship shines brightest here as Ben finally gets the chance to be human. We’ve also heard note from Franklin that Johnny is “still his favorite hero,” we’ve seen him try and provide entertainment for the group even in time of stress, and we’ve seen him wear flame boats in the arctic (which, if anything, was the true clue he was going to do because there was no way his life was ever going to get better than that!). Johnny has been such a prominent link between the relationships of the members of the Fantastic Four, and to even begin to imagine the impact his loss will have is somewhat staggering. Reed, who has desperately tried to fix everything, is now faced with the ultimate failure. Sue has just lost her little brother, not to mention the kids who have just lost their favorite (only) uncle. And Ben? Ben might just have it worst of all, because after a full day of being reminded what it is to be a man as shown by someone who was often times viewed as a callous individual, Ben is forced to watch his friend devoured by hordes of Annhilius’ drones. While this might not sound as horrific as it is, Hickman essentially adds insult to injury for Ben as slowly begins to become the The Thing once more, essentially saying that if Johnny hadn’t saved him, Ben would’ve had a greater chance of surviving until the doors to the N-Zone could be opened again. This makes The Last Stand of Johnny Storm that much more heartbreaking, as a rock-covered Ben Grimm falls in front of the door, unable to do anything but wait for Reed to come home.
In simplistic terms: we may have Greek Gods in the Marvel Universe, but this – more than anything – feels like the embodiment of the Hero’s Tale.
This issue is important, and it always will be. It’s the kind of issue that essentially defines why we want to read comics. Buying a comic on a weekly basis is an investment in something greater, and not all writers can effectively or even actively deliver on this matter. As entertaining as it is to read a story with characters you love from arc to arc, it’s infinitely more rewarding when a comic creator rewards you for a long haul (in this case, almost two years worth of fiction). By the time you turn the last page of the issue, you can easily sit back and feel rewarded for the time you’ve spent so far with these characters – and again, these are 50 year old characters. Hickman has been on the title for only 2 of those years, and already his run feels like one of the most impactful runs with the characters in the past decade, let alone in my 23 years of life (more than two thirds of which have been spent reading comics). On top of that, there is still a lot left to be said. Franklin’s abilities are back and out in the open, Doom’s involvement still isn’t fully clear, and various villains still lurk in the shadows as we saw in earlier issues. There is still a lot left to happen, and as sad as the issue eventually ends up being, it’s still a triumph. An incredibly open ended triumph.
The important thing to note here is that, for perhaps the first time in the past decade, the Fantastic Four truly matter. The characters have always been important, but the strong reaction to this issue as well as the coverage from the press truly show that once again these are heroes that are worth following. This isn’t the goof Ioan Gruffudd/Jessica Alba/Chris Evans/Michael Chiklis flick – this is the perfect example of why the Fantastic Four matter. If he somehow hadn’t been able to do it before, it is probably undoubtable that Hickman managed to carve out a special hole in your heart for the entire team by the time this issue ends. With the oncoming FF title relaunch (which one could guess stands for Fantastic Foundation, focusing on the children in the aftermath of this story), we’re essentially lucky to be given 20+ issues of absolutely terrific storytelling that have truly revitalized the beauty of the team with a wonderful ending to what is described by Hickman as “the first act.” If that is true, and this is essentially only the first act, then I can’t wait to see what happens next.
Final Verdict: 9.9 – Buy
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*There was no inherent pun intended with this comic, but at the risk of spoiling anything, I will note this behind a coat of whited out text: it is kind of amusing that the song I heard was the theme to the film Sunshine, which starred (among others) Chris Evans, aka the man who played the Human Torch in the feature film adaptation of the Fantastic Four. Musical fate, or cosmic coincidence?
