There’s a lot to cover on Wednesdays. We should know, as collectively, we read an insane amount of comics. Even with a large review staff, it’s hard to get to everything. With that in mind, we’re back with Wrapping Wednesday, where we look at some of the books we missed in what was another great week of comics.
Let’s get this party started.
Blue Beetle #1
Written by Josh Trujillo
Illustrated by Adrián Gutiérrez
Colored by Wil Quintana
Lettered by Lucas Gattoni
Reviewed by Quinn Tassin
It’s rare to come by a first issue that feels so much like the start of an arc in the middle of a series. “Blue Beetle” #1 is certainly a fun, well-written comic book. It’s written with care for its characters and their histories and for the most part, it’s illustrated very well. The plotting, too, is solid, balancing nice character beats, an engaging story, and touching on themes about xenophobia seamlessly. But this also feels distinctly like the middle of a story. To be fair, this is an extension of the “Blue Beetle: Graduation Day” miniseries. But it’s fair to say that the first issue of an ongoing series bears a certain level of responsibility for orienting its readers. That’s especially true when no moment in the issue lets you know that there was a miniseries preceding this. To the average reader (or maybe even more importantly, a new reader) a first issue is meant to be the start of something. And for all of this issue’s strengths, its accessibility, or lack thereof, is a massive liability.
The issue opens in the middle of the action (after a one page history of the three men who have called themselves Blue Beetle), throwing Jaime into a fight against a group called the Madmen. This sequence does strong work illustrating a lot about Jaime as a hero; he cares about leading the other Scarab-holders well and saving the day without causing collateral damage. But there are also some clear questions that arise reading these first few pages, most notably: there are other Scarab holders?! The sense that you’re missing things persists as we see a Palmera City divided over the presence of aliens. This is all interesting but nearly zero work is done to give context here, which may be excusable for a more established character, or for the sequel to a more widely-read series, but here, the status quo is more jarring than it is engaging.
None of that is to say that “Blue Beetle” #1 isn’t good. It’s a very fun read with great action and visuals and it’s easy to root for both Jaime and for the creative team behind this story. The Blood Scarab makes for an intimidating, intriguing antagonist and seeing him stab Ted Kord through the chest certainly makes for a great first issue cliffhanger. This series is worth reading, it would just benefit from something that most stories need less of: exposition.
The art team does excellent work in “Blue Beetle’ #1, establishing a style that somehow captures youthful energy in action sequences, portrays character-driven moments in an engaging way, and pivots from fun to grounded to actively dark with ease. The opening fight scene with the Madmen is an absolute blast the pages are teeming with energy, giving each character a cartoonish physicality that makes it impossible not to find them engaging. Scenes like Jaime going to a meal with aliens as Blue Beetle or going to the beach land well, too. A lot of credit there goes to the coloring, which is vibrant and exciting. It’s reflective of both the exaggerated art style and the youthfulness of Jaime as a character. It also makes a move as simple as making the Red Scarab a silhouette land incredibly well. When a space is filled with vibrant, cool coloring and that’s pierced by shadow and then bursts of red, it’s bound to leave a visual impression. The artwork isn’t perfect, though. There’s a tendency to leave quite a bit of negative space in panels and all too often those aren’t even filled with texts blocks. That lack of detail can be notable and while it doesn’t diminish the reading experience, more background work would certainly enhance “Blue Beetle” #1. There are also moments where the layouts don’t quite make sense. For instance, when the Madmen are introduced, the text fills the top right corner of the panel and leads to Ted’s ship, which is even further in the top right corner. 75% of the panel, though, is dedicated to these villains with lots of energy and very fun designs, who just so happen to be leaping in from the right side of the page. The result: is text that keeps your eyes firmly in the top left corner while it’s clear that the centerpiece image is meant to be looked at from the top right corner and take you down to the panels below. That’s not a flub bad enough to take you out of the issue but it’s exactly the kind of thing you’re not supposed to notice as a reader. While the visuals are strong, sometimes they make you work harder than you have to, a quality that they share with the writing.
Continued belowFinal Verdict: 7.0- “Blue Bettle” #1 is competently plotted and full of heart but its lack of accessibility holds it back.
Project: Cryptid #1
Written by Mark Russell, Paul Cornell, and Grant Morrison
Illustrated by Jordi Perez, PJ Holden, and Jon Proctor
Colored by Madeline Seely and Mike Spicer
Lettered by Rob Steen
Reviewed by Gregory Ellner
“Project: Cryptid” #1 is an unusual approach for a series premiere: an anthology. The different stories have very different tones, each from a different writer. Mark Russell starts off the story with a more serious take on a classic monster tale, which seems to be a way to lure in readers expecting more of the same. The unlikeable protagonist, the horrifying fate, the inhospitable environment… all of it seems fairly standard. With Paul Cornell, things are stranger and thereby more interesting, giving a more rounded, intriguing look at cryptozoology, albeit one that may be fairly standard of more recent work in fiction. Both have their charms, but together leave one wondering where this series is meant to go in the first place. Grant Morrison’s piece, on the other hand, feels really odd, a segment of a primarily prose-based serial for all of Ahoy Comics, and is difficult to really see as part of the rest.
The art styles are good fits for the three tales. Jordi Perez takes a mostly down-to-earth approach with the opening story, with four expressions and wider shots to give an oppressive sense of foreboding that only really lets up in the final moments. Meanwhile, the relatively cartoonish, a bit more exaggerated approach by Paul Cornell makes the second part much more humorous, uplifting, and relatable, despite being about a very deadly being (at least officially). Jon Proctor’s one image fits well into the noir-esque aesthetic of the serial style, highly detailed while only using grayscale snd no colors.
Color choice is what finally brings it all together. The colors provided by Madeline Seely are dark, subdued, and oppressive, much like the story they illuminate. They give a look at a world without much hope for cryptids except that they leave other people alone. Meanwhile, Mike Spicer takes a far brighter, more lively approach, using bizarre purples, greens, and more to really revel in how utterly bizarre cryptids really can be, letting him have fun with it and invite others into a strange new world.
Final Verdict: 7.0– An unusual approach makes this series one worth at least giving a chance.
Tear Us Apart #1
Written by Jay Baruchel & Van Jensen
Illustrated & Colored by Alessandro Micelli
Lettered by Taylor Esposito
Reviewed by Alexander Manzo
“Tear Us Apart” is a reimagined version of Romeo & Juliet inside of a dystopian cult sprinkled with a bit of X-Men, and this is all just simply in the introduction. The authors Jay Baruchel and Van Jensen do a great job of jumping right into the story with exposition to set the mood inside of this cult temple world led by a huge Viking-like bearded leader but slowly lead into the heart of the true story. The protagonists, Twenty-Five and Eighty-Two, break the standard conventions they’ve been training their entire lives for; instead of battling with their fellow students and proving their worth to the leader, they attempt to escape because of their love for one another. Baruchel and Jensen created this forbidden love story inside of a cult and added this coming-of-age layer to entice most readers. Overall, it’s a story that feels like a well-done mashup of multiple genres (thus far) so that it can’t be boiled down to a one-sentence recommendation that gives a reader a lot to chew on for the first issue and a reason to check out what’s next to come.
The artwork by Alessandro Micelli sets the mood with his choice of having a limited color palette but mainly sticks with various shades of blues, white for the black space, and red for the blood. His overall art style is simple but has the strength to build this tense and menacing world that Twenty-Five and Eighty-Two live in. Micelli has this anime-like influence on the characters’ emotions as they are fitting but slightly exaggerated to sell it marginally more. His choice of angles also brings this extra layer of intimidation for the Paternoster to emphasize his size over the children. However, when the reader is presented with another angle in comparison, he’s not giant-size; it’s more of being surrounded by teenagers. This choice is perfect for our young protagonist’s point of view when everyone, even slightly older, seems like someone ancient or massive (in size). Another interesting aspect of Micelli’s artwork is the opposite depiction of the two powers; Twenty-Five’s powers are more based around weaponry and speed, shown in multiple panels with weapons already cutting or arrows hitting various students. In comparison, Eighty-Two’s powers are more fantasy-based through a beam of energy through her hands that can take out an enemy. Her true strength was briefly mentioned, and it feels like a slight nod to the X-Men’s Jean Grey and the power and cost that comes with it.
Final Verdict:8.0 – The exposition did a great job in this opening issue of setting up this new world, but the romantic aspect of it has yet to be fully unraveled.
