Ed Liu
10-24-2002, 11:51 PM
Howdy,
Another "inspired by emeraldarcher" review, this time from the House of Ideas and Mark Waid. For your pleasure, I present a review of Fantastic Four #62.
PLOT SUMMARY:
We begin in Times Square, where Susan Storm Richards sits in a lawn chair, as an invisible Reed works on a large, electronic easel. After solving the Reimann hypothesis (sic) (http://www.claymath.org/prizeproblems/riemann.htm) (yes, it's real, if misspelled), Reed shrinks his "easel" down to handheld size, allowing the two to sign autographs while talking about the strange goings-on from the prior issue. Ruling out any chance that their son Franklin is the cause of the trouble, they realize that they've never tested their daughter Val for super powers. The two dash back to their Baxter Building headquarters, while calling Ben Grimm to bring the kids back from an underwater field trip.
Meanwhile, Johnny Storm struggles through his new role as the CFO of Fantastic Four, Inc, Sue's latest idea to instill a sense of responsibility in him. While he is determined not to fail, he also recognizes how out of his league he is, and goes off to search for a Reed-gadget to help "balance a spreadsheet for me."
Back at the lab, Reed casually mentions that his new computer taps into a pocket dimension, giving it limitless capacity (which immediately leads me to wonder how he syncs it with his iMac, but I digress). Uncle Ben brings the kids back, leading to a battery of big, scientific-y, but harmless tests on Val (leading to a brief moment of sibling rivalry pique from Franklin). As Franklin leaves, Stuart Little bursts in on his skateboard. Whoops, it's just a stupendously intrusive ad...I meant JOHNNY enters, looking for a mathemagizmo for his job. He contemplates taking Reed's PDA, with Reed's warning that it "has more computing power than anything else in this star system" seeming to do little to deter him.
That night, a hand wrapped in mathematical equations begins emerging from the PDA.
We see Sue and Ben taking in a movie theatre (in one of maybe several theatres with a king-sized seat labeled "Reserved for Benjamin J. Grimm"). We briefly see a public-service announcement with Johnny ("Only you can prevent forest fires"), a brief discussion on why Sue appointed Johnny as the CFO, and the introduction of what will soon be the latest craze in movie games ("Hey. Previews. How many Innaworlds this time?"), before a strange, liquid shape covered in green mathematical equations begins wrapping itself around Ben's belt buckle, and then the movie screen.
The audience thinks the stream of green characters is a trailer for the next sequel to The Matrix, but Sue and Ben soon realize the danger. After shoving the audience out of the theatre, the two try to face down the Math Monster, now humanoid and capable of "dividing" things (and people) into nothingness. A horrible attack on Sue and Ben is prevented from becoming a complete tragedy by some well placed invisible forcefields, when the Math Monster demands to be taken to Reed. The reason why is about the last one you'd expect to hear from a comic book villain (come on, I'm not going to give EVERYTHING away -- if I do, you won't buy the book! :)).
STORY COMMENTS:
I. Love. This. Comic.
Within three issues, I've managed to forget that the FF is a bunch of people with superpowers in silly costumes with some rather ridiculous code names. Instead, they've become Reed, Sue, Johnny, and Ben -- a family that has some really unusual days. We've also been introduced to an intriguing new bad guy -- the Math Monster is creepy and scary and wildly cool, and I'm dying to find out the story behind IT.
I also think it's interesting how Waid has gleefully, but sensibly, upended the power dynamics between the FF members. In the days of Stan and Jack, Sue was little more than hostage fodder, and the real power of the team usually alternated between Ben and Johnny, with Reed hanging around in the background until he could whip out his deus-ex-machine-of-the-issue. In Waid's issues, Sue's powers are used creatively, making her one of the most flexible and useful members of the team above and beyond her critical role as den mother for the three overgrown boys she tends to.
I'd especially like to comment on the characterization of Reed. Most of the time, scientists in popular fiction get one of three personalities: 1) the absent-minded professor (e.g., Albert Einstein or, well, the Absent-Minded Professor), 2) the MADMAN who's a GENIUS (Russell Crowe in A Beautiful Mind), and 3) the EVIL MADMAN who's a GENIUS trying to take over the world (Dr. Frankenstein or any one of many James Bond villains). Being really, truly smart is almost never shown to be an asset in popular fiction (or, for that matter, in real life), and is always a hallmark of arrogance, megalomania, and complete social ineptitude.
Enter Mark Waid's Reed Richards. True, he does show some of the stereotypical signs of the Comic Book Scientist Archetype, but the final image we are left with is a very sympathetic, caring, and gentle man who loves his extended family more than life and, more importantly, than his "job." Even though he has a "superpower," his true gift is his intelligence, which he applies tirelessly to the betterment of his family and of humanity in general. I'm not sure we've gotten such a human and humane depiction of a scientist in a long time. Who knows -- maybe some day a kid will read this comic book and start paying more attention in science and math class, hoping to become the "real" Reed Richards some day. We couldn't ask for a better role model.
And, finally, someone had the guts to make the obvious joke about the possible boudoir applications of Reed's power. The first four pages as a whole have a ton of sharp, witty gags that never once belittle their subjects, which is another high point in Waid's writing so far.
ART COMMENTS:
I've never seen anything by Mike Wieringo before, but I think his cartoony style fits this book wonderfully. The opening two-page splash of Times Square is simply stunning. He's also a master at transitioning between the mundane and the astounding, with Reed and Sue escaping Times Square and the attack of the Math Monster being two sterling examples of this. And the Baxter Building has never looked better.
Sue is real cute, too.
My only two gripes about the art are that everybody's feet look at least 3 sizes too big, and Ben Grimm looks really really silly in pants.
Did I mention that Sue is real cute? I like how Wieringo manages to make her (and Johnny, for that matter) physically attractive without turning them into ludicrously idealized paragons of human beauty that many comic book characters turn into.
OTHER COMMENTS:
Is anybody else getting REALLY annoyed at that stupid "Stuart Little" 2-page ad in the middle of a bunch of comic books?
I think we're meant to believe Johnny borrowed the computer from the lab, and somehow caused the emergence of the Math Monster.
I say it was Franklin.
So, after all is said and done, five solid stars from me. Some comics are mind-blowing, perception-altering experiences. This comic is not one of them. This comic is just packed with more fun per page than is legally allowed in a lot of foreign countries. What you see is what you get, and what you see is a book that will have you grinning from ear to ear.
-- Ed/Ace
Another "inspired by emeraldarcher" review, this time from the House of Ideas and Mark Waid. For your pleasure, I present a review of Fantastic Four #62.
PLOT SUMMARY:
We begin in Times Square, where Susan Storm Richards sits in a lawn chair, as an invisible Reed works on a large, electronic easel. After solving the Reimann hypothesis (sic) (http://www.claymath.org/prizeproblems/riemann.htm) (yes, it's real, if misspelled), Reed shrinks his "easel" down to handheld size, allowing the two to sign autographs while talking about the strange goings-on from the prior issue. Ruling out any chance that their son Franklin is the cause of the trouble, they realize that they've never tested their daughter Val for super powers. The two dash back to their Baxter Building headquarters, while calling Ben Grimm to bring the kids back from an underwater field trip.
Meanwhile, Johnny Storm struggles through his new role as the CFO of Fantastic Four, Inc, Sue's latest idea to instill a sense of responsibility in him. While he is determined not to fail, he also recognizes how out of his league he is, and goes off to search for a Reed-gadget to help "balance a spreadsheet for me."
Back at the lab, Reed casually mentions that his new computer taps into a pocket dimension, giving it limitless capacity (which immediately leads me to wonder how he syncs it with his iMac, but I digress). Uncle Ben brings the kids back, leading to a battery of big, scientific-y, but harmless tests on Val (leading to a brief moment of sibling rivalry pique from Franklin). As Franklin leaves, Stuart Little bursts in on his skateboard. Whoops, it's just a stupendously intrusive ad...I meant JOHNNY enters, looking for a mathemagizmo for his job. He contemplates taking Reed's PDA, with Reed's warning that it "has more computing power than anything else in this star system" seeming to do little to deter him.
That night, a hand wrapped in mathematical equations begins emerging from the PDA.
We see Sue and Ben taking in a movie theatre (in one of maybe several theatres with a king-sized seat labeled "Reserved for Benjamin J. Grimm"). We briefly see a public-service announcement with Johnny ("Only you can prevent forest fires"), a brief discussion on why Sue appointed Johnny as the CFO, and the introduction of what will soon be the latest craze in movie games ("Hey. Previews. How many Innaworlds this time?"), before a strange, liquid shape covered in green mathematical equations begins wrapping itself around Ben's belt buckle, and then the movie screen.
The audience thinks the stream of green characters is a trailer for the next sequel to The Matrix, but Sue and Ben soon realize the danger. After shoving the audience out of the theatre, the two try to face down the Math Monster, now humanoid and capable of "dividing" things (and people) into nothingness. A horrible attack on Sue and Ben is prevented from becoming a complete tragedy by some well placed invisible forcefields, when the Math Monster demands to be taken to Reed. The reason why is about the last one you'd expect to hear from a comic book villain (come on, I'm not going to give EVERYTHING away -- if I do, you won't buy the book! :)).
STORY COMMENTS:
I. Love. This. Comic.
Within three issues, I've managed to forget that the FF is a bunch of people with superpowers in silly costumes with some rather ridiculous code names. Instead, they've become Reed, Sue, Johnny, and Ben -- a family that has some really unusual days. We've also been introduced to an intriguing new bad guy -- the Math Monster is creepy and scary and wildly cool, and I'm dying to find out the story behind IT.
I also think it's interesting how Waid has gleefully, but sensibly, upended the power dynamics between the FF members. In the days of Stan and Jack, Sue was little more than hostage fodder, and the real power of the team usually alternated between Ben and Johnny, with Reed hanging around in the background until he could whip out his deus-ex-machine-of-the-issue. In Waid's issues, Sue's powers are used creatively, making her one of the most flexible and useful members of the team above and beyond her critical role as den mother for the three overgrown boys she tends to.
I'd especially like to comment on the characterization of Reed. Most of the time, scientists in popular fiction get one of three personalities: 1) the absent-minded professor (e.g., Albert Einstein or, well, the Absent-Minded Professor), 2) the MADMAN who's a GENIUS (Russell Crowe in A Beautiful Mind), and 3) the EVIL MADMAN who's a GENIUS trying to take over the world (Dr. Frankenstein or any one of many James Bond villains). Being really, truly smart is almost never shown to be an asset in popular fiction (or, for that matter, in real life), and is always a hallmark of arrogance, megalomania, and complete social ineptitude.
Enter Mark Waid's Reed Richards. True, he does show some of the stereotypical signs of the Comic Book Scientist Archetype, but the final image we are left with is a very sympathetic, caring, and gentle man who loves his extended family more than life and, more importantly, than his "job." Even though he has a "superpower," his true gift is his intelligence, which he applies tirelessly to the betterment of his family and of humanity in general. I'm not sure we've gotten such a human and humane depiction of a scientist in a long time. Who knows -- maybe some day a kid will read this comic book and start paying more attention in science and math class, hoping to become the "real" Reed Richards some day. We couldn't ask for a better role model.
And, finally, someone had the guts to make the obvious joke about the possible boudoir applications of Reed's power. The first four pages as a whole have a ton of sharp, witty gags that never once belittle their subjects, which is another high point in Waid's writing so far.
ART COMMENTS:
I've never seen anything by Mike Wieringo before, but I think his cartoony style fits this book wonderfully. The opening two-page splash of Times Square is simply stunning. He's also a master at transitioning between the mundane and the astounding, with Reed and Sue escaping Times Square and the attack of the Math Monster being two sterling examples of this. And the Baxter Building has never looked better.
Sue is real cute, too.
My only two gripes about the art are that everybody's feet look at least 3 sizes too big, and Ben Grimm looks really really silly in pants.
Did I mention that Sue is real cute? I like how Wieringo manages to make her (and Johnny, for that matter) physically attractive without turning them into ludicrously idealized paragons of human beauty that many comic book characters turn into.
OTHER COMMENTS:
Is anybody else getting REALLY annoyed at that stupid "Stuart Little" 2-page ad in the middle of a bunch of comic books?
I think we're meant to believe Johnny borrowed the computer from the lab, and somehow caused the emergence of the Math Monster.
I say it was Franklin.
So, after all is said and done, five solid stars from me. Some comics are mind-blowing, perception-altering experiences. This comic is not one of them. This comic is just packed with more fun per page than is legally allowed in a lot of foreign countries. What you see is what you get, and what you see is a book that will have you grinning from ear to ear.
-- Ed/Ace