The Punisher #30, The Slavers, Part 6 (of 6)

Ennis keeps it tight for the last issue of The Slavers. Frank’s perspective, lady cop Miller’s perspective, no one else. Other characters get significant moments—the other cop, Parker, gets some material, the dirty cop gets a big part in a scene, the old man has his showdown with Frank, Jen Cooke plays off Miller, and Viorica is back for a check in. The issue starts with Ennis establishing all the characters are their places; everyone’s waiting for Frank to act, but Frank’s being methodical in his planning.

The result of the planning is a straightforward action sequence, then the immediate and long-term fallout. There’s a devastating epilogue, where Ennis writes the hell out of Frank’s narration—he doesn’t push it as much here as he’s done in previous issues, but there’s a lot to read between the lines on. But it’s not Frank’s story to tell and he knows it. He’s not the hero because there can’t be any heroes in the story, not even for people like Cooke and Miller, who both wish there could be. For the wrap-up, little stuff Ennis has done in previous issues comes through; Miller, for instance, gets an entirely different arc than expected, something foreshadowed in the last issue.

Instead of showcasing the action sequence, which does have a fantastic hook, Ennis is more interested in the character development. There’s also Frank’s bandaid solution to the problem of trafficking, which is more about shocking than actually being effective. It’s Frank, the good guys, Ennis, the readers, punching against the impossible brick wall of the human trafficking reality. Ennis also delves, through Cooke and Miller mostly, into the morality of The Punisher and the positives and negatives of a moral vacuum. The positives and negatives of even considering such a thing under these circumstances.

It’s probably Fernandez’s best art in the arc? There are no glaring bad panels. I’m sure there are some iffy ones with Frank, but when Fernandez has to do the epilogue summary panels, he nails them well enough to forgive them. The comic’s so damn good you can’t even remember the iffy panels. You can barely remember the action, as everything else is so much more important. Because Frank doing his thing isn’t the story. It’s not even the gravy. It’s immaterial to the problem at hand. Because not even a superhero can fix this world. By the end of the issue, when the futility and tragedy of everyone involved gets the eyes tearing up, it’s hard to determine exactly what’s contributing to which profound feeling of sadness. It’s outstanding writing from Ennis, effective visual storytelling from Fernandez, and one hell of a comic. The Slavers, more than any other arc so far in Punisher MAX, comes through as a full narrative gesture. It’s devastating, obviously, and brutal, but it’s also brilliantly done. Ennis’s writing is truly awesome here. Especially (but also not especially) Frank’s narration.

The Punisher #29, The Slavers, Part 5 (of 6)

The Punisher #29

This issue has an Ennis Punisher “wow” moment. It ends with it. Two of them actually. One in Frank’s handling of Vera, the woman who handles… the Human Resources department for the trafficking ring. One in Frank’s narration. The moments leave you with a feeling of emptiness and profound sadness. Because while they’re not surprises—and the perfectly inform everything around them—they bring an exceptional level of humanity to Frank. Even with the omnipresent narration this arc, there’s still a significant narrative distance. Not so in this issue’s conclusion. Punisher MAX is, after all, basically all about Ennis finding Frank Castle’s expansive, beautiful, tragic soul.

Anyway. Had to cover that part while still teary. Heart-wrenching stuff.

It’s a fairly quick issue again. Ennis opens after Frank has finished with the son, finding himself in a firefight with the old man, who’s trying to kill his son for the botched hit. Shootouts at big houses on lakes in upstate New York are not Fernandez’s strong suit, but it works. Ennis’s writing on Frank’s narration is great. It’s comfortable, assured, willing to show some personality.

After that scene it’s all about the B and C plots tying together—it’s the penultimate issue in the arc, after all—so the cops team up with Jen Cooke who brings them to Frank, giving Frank a chance to make one really good joke while finding out what’s going on with the NYPD being all up in his business lately. It’s a lengthy talking heads scene with mostly repeat information—the characters are just finding out what the readers have known for issues—but it’s excellent. The personalities of all four characters (Frank, Cooke, the two cops) come through very nicely. Ennis has done a great job establishing the characters.

There’s some more with the bad cop and the old man confronting Vera about the hit before the end. It’s an excellent issue, outside the often wanting artwork. Ennis’s careful construction of it all is paying off.

That ending though… it’s something special. Ennis peppers extra personality for Frank this issue—when he’s got to interact with people instead of just shoot them or torture them; it’s where Ennis has to excel beyond expectation just to get it to work (another basic description of Punisher MAX, it’s able to work because Ennis’s writing is exceptional on the title, past the exceptional it’d need to be just to get it to function). So good.

The Punisher #28, The Slavers, Part 4 (of 6)

This issue moves real fast. Most of the expository scenes take place in a page, sometimes two, sometimes packed pages, sometimes just splash pages. There’s action for both the evil old man and Frank. Evil old man is contending with the assassins his son has sent after him, Frank is deal with the son and his security. Otherwise it’s Frank preparing for his attack, the son preparing for his father’s reaction to the attempt, and the B plot with the cops mixing into the A plot through social worker Jen Cooke (who’s become Frank’s reluctant sidekick).

But, really, it’s all about what Frank’s going to to do the son. We get a hint from the cover and the first page (one of those splash pages). Ennis isn’t racing to it, but he knows it’s the biggest question hanging over the issue, since it’s clear from five pages in what’s going on with everything else—the old man is too tough for the son to take out, the cops aren’t happy about getting beat up by their fellow officers and they want to at least figure out what’s really happening—but what are Frank’s plans for taking out this trafficking outfit? Inquiring minds want to know—well, the readers’ minds, none of the characters have the stomach for it.

Is the big reveal on the last page worth it? Oh, yeah. Abjectly terrible art on the page from Fernandez and Koblish, even on the parts of the page where Fernandez doesn’t usually choke, but it doesn’t matter. Ennis paces it beautifully in the script and Fernandez is at least good at breaking out the panels. He’s crap at realizing them once he’s got them plotted, but the visual pacing does work.

So, it’s a mix between an action issue and a bridging issue; even more of a bridging issue than last time, because Ennis is now setting up the pieces for immediate resolution. The scenes end in hard cliffhangers (though the old man is off-page once his big scene is done). The cops and Jen Cooke have a hard cliffhanger. Frank’s got the hard cliffhanger. Well, more, the son has a hard cliffhanger. It’s not up to Frank how they’re going to resolve their interrogation, after all. He gives the guy a big choice.

Great narration from Ennis. A couple of the expected past tense narration stumbles, but nothing serious, just some awkward sentences. The pulp approach is working. Even if Fernandez is choking on lots of important panels.

The Punisher #27, The Slavers, Part 3 (of 6)

The Punisher #27

It’s a bridging issue but in the best possible way. Since Ennis is now writing so much narration from Frank, the functional bridging feels a lot more organic. Frank’s got a problem—his leads have run dry because of the cluster last issue—and he needs to figure out a way to move forward. Literal bridging. And yet, completely effective chapter in the arc. While Frank’s trying to turn up new leads (the issue opens with him interrogating a pimp at knifepoint), Ennis is also working the B and C plots, though at this point they both seem on the same level.

In the B plot, the two cops—Miller (the White lady) and Parker (the Black guy)—who Frank messed up in the first issue go talk to the guy he messed up last issue so they can compare notes about how the department has used them to further this new anti-Punisher thing the NYPD’s got going on. Of course, it’s all twisted and corrupt so Miller and Parker end up getting beat down by their brothers in blue because… well, White lady and Black guy cops aren’t really really part of the club.

The C plot has the trafficking son deciding his dad has gone too far—he wants to go after Frank, not listening to reason; it’s time for some patricide.

The issue also introduces social worker Jen Cooke, who helped Viorica with her escape and got the baby killed. Frank goes to talk to her after a lecture, giving Ennis two more spots for completely natural exposition. Ennis is very thorough in how he lays out the trafficking information and presents the problem. No one has any solutions, not Frank, not Cooke (who Ennis sets up as a “shallow liberal” only to give her enough depth to hold up opposite Frank)—Frank doesn’t even know how to approach the problem. Terrorizing street pimps for information doesn’t work and, once he’s got the information he needs, he’s left trying to figure out how he’s going to get an amoral, apathetic Eastern European killing machine to talk. It’s new territory for him, more of Ennis’s subtle character development; thank goodness the writing’s there, in the narration, in the talking heads sequences, because once again Fernandez and Koblish render a very wanting Frank Castle. So many shadows too. Like, guys, putting Frank in the shadows for effect is just showcasing you not being able to draw him well.

Ennis ends the comic on a combination of soft cliffhanger and threat. Something’s coming. No one—except maybe Frank—has any inkling, but the future’s there, taunting everyone.

The Punisher #26, The Slavers, Part 2 (of 6)

The Punisher #26

The comic opens with Viorica telling Frank what happened to her back in Moldova. Enslaved sex work. Escape. Family (father) rejecting her. Recapture. Ennis splits it into two doses, both for the reader and the characters. In between he introduces the father. Last issue he introduced the son, along with the son’s female sidekick. This issue we meet the father as he’s executing some rival gang. Ennis also uses it to start up the C plot about the son plotting against the father. Then it’s back to Frank hearing the rest of the story: Ransomed baby, escape with baby, discovery, dead baby. Occasional panels for the flashback but mostly just talking heads. Fernandez does really well with the pacing of it. Not particularly great with the art, but not bad. Not until the end, when he’s got to do enraged Frank. There’s just something reductive about how Fernandez and Koblish visualize Frank here. He’s not imposing enough. But it’s a hell of a start to the issue. And the father is terrifying—Fernandez does better on that scene than anything else in the issue.

Once Frank’s got the story we’re caught up with the end of the previous issue—Ennis doesn’t reference the narration being a year into the future until the end of the comic, but he’s still utilizing the device. Successfully. No more hiccups in the past tense narration.

Then it’s time for the B plot, involving the dirty cop forcing the good cops (the Black gay guy and the White woman) to fake injuries from their run-in with the Punisher so they can spin it as Frank being out of control. The stuff with the cops is really, really good. There’s gravitas to it but also a whole bunch of humor, including a great laugh. It’s clearly the release valve for the comic—obviously, no one’s talking about the human trafficking and endless rape.

The B plot figures in again later when Frank’s trying to get into the bad guys’ house of operations without killing any of the girls. The bloodthirsty cops get in his way, screwing up his plan. But it’s okay, because he’s got another one up his sleeve—maybe Ennis’s editor told him to end issues with a little cushioning or something because it’s back again here, Ennis making sure the reader is primed for the next issue if not fully prepared.

Fernandez’s art gets a little wonky, of course. His quality is inconsistent. At least his panel layouts are good for most of it, making the comic effective at least. How the guy’s been drawing Frank for so long without ever figuring out a consistent look, however… not effective.

But the comic succeeds on the writing alone. Ennis is bringing it.

The Punisher #25, The Slavers, Part 1 (of 6)

The Punisher #25

From the first page, The Slavers is different. And not just because penciller Leandro Fernandez, inker Scott Koblish, and colorist Dan Brown turn in a splash page out of Sin City. No Frank, but a woman with a gun in the rain, screaming as she fires. Frank’s narration—which is going to be near omnipresent in the issue, so everything is very pulpy—accompanies her. She’s shooting at Frank’s target, a drug guy. The narration is past tense, set a year in the future. Again, all very pulpy (down to when writer Garth Ennis stumbles in a first person, past tense pitfall). The narration mixes exposition about the target and Frank’s arsenal. We’re getting the thought process as he goes down from his rooftop perch to save the woman, surprised to find himself sympathetic to her.

All it takes is her mentioning a dead baby for Frank to decide to play “white knight,” which he later remarks on. There are story ties between Ennis’s Punisher MAX arcs—we find out from another character this arc takes place about a month after the previous one, depending on how long after death birds go for eyes—but Ennis doesn’t talk about the character development or how he’s changing up the narrative distance. This Frank is a lot more… human than he was in the first arc of the series.

So it’s a shame Fernandez and Koblish manage to draw everyone fine except Frank. No more fifty-something Frank, just generic unwashed hair, steely-eyed Frank. It’s unclear if Fernandez doesn’t understand the way to draw the comic or if he just can’t do it. Because Koblish’s inks help with a lot. They help with the entire supporting cast here. Even on the woman Frank saves—there are these pages where the art’s fine in half the panel, but then there’s the weird, shadowy handling of Frank. It’s too bad, but thank goodness Ennis is upping the narration to distract from the art.

It’s not all Frank and the woman, Viorica, though. Ennis introduces a fairly big supporting cast (six characters). There are the two bickering (but about serious things) beat cops who happen across Frank’s impromptu rescue; he disarms them, which leads to a dirty cop (beholden to two of the villains we also meet this issue) scheming with the beat cops’ captain to use the incident to declare war on the Punisher.

Frank, meanwhile, is just finding out Viorica’s story. Ennis hints at it on the last page, in Frank’s narration—playing with the one year lead time and the past tense rather effectively—and ends the page on one hell of a dark, affecting mood. Because if it’s enough to affect Frank… it’s got to be something real bad. Especially if it’s bad enough Frank’s going to narrate about it.

It’s a very strong issue. Even with Fernandez screwing it up. One page almost looks like Paul Gulacy came in to do the heads—no M. Hands credit though—and you wish he had done all of it….

Infinity Man and the Forever People 1 (August 2014)

Infinity Man and the Forever People #1

It’s hard to get excited about Infinity Man and the Forever People because there’s only so much enthusiasm from creators Dan Didio and Keith Giffen. Giffen does a thoroughly competent job with the artwork; it looks and feels like a Kirby homage should look and feel. Didio even gets away with a blatant Kirby homage, just because it’s a readable “New 52” comic and deserves a lot of slack.

But it’s just The Forever People. Even if Didio’s apparently mixing it with “Melrose Place.” He doesn’t actually have any great ideas or even excited, problematic ones. It’s a safe comic.

About the most engaging thing is the lead-up to the cliffhanger just because things are moving. Equating the Highfather to Hitler isn’t moving, it’s exposition and boringly expressed. Didio does better other places, once the New Gods’ Earth guide shows up.

It’s a likable, but undercooked proposition so far.



Planet of the Humans; writers, Keith Giffen and Dan Didio; penciller, Giffen; inker, Scott Koblish; colorist, Hi-Fi; letterer, Travis Lanham; editors, Kyle Andrukiewicz and Joey Cavalieri; publisher, DC Comics.

The Incredible Hulk 49 (March 2003)


There’s something wrong with this issue and I’m having trouble pinpointing it. Maybe how Jones bookends with what he’s doing next, maybe with how he does a talking Hulk going nuts without any explanation. I can’t believe I’m wanting for exposition, but Jones’s keeping the reader way too far away from what’s going on in Bruce’s head. Especially after an issue like this one.

The design problem remains with the villain; the Immonen and Koblish Hulk make up for it a little, but there aren’t any money shots in this issue. Even the splash page of the transformed Banner is more for mood than it is reader gratification. It’s a dangerous, constantly shifting world. And Jones is just make it more so… and every shift make the characters more distant.

They aren’t just superheroes, they’re corrupt supervillains and the like. Jones has removed the humanity for the sake of narrative.



Pratt Fall; writer, Bruce Jones; penciller, Stuart Immonen; inker, Scott Koblish; colorist, Studio F; letterer, Comicraft; editors, John Miesegaes and Axel Alonso; publisher, Marvel Comics.

The Incredible Hulk 48 (February 2003)


In one panel, it really looks like Immonen and Koblish are doing an homage to Byrne-style banner. It’s kind of cool, actually.

With the exception of the opening involving some secret agent in a dinky town, this issue is one of the standard Jones talking heads during an action sequence Hulk. It’s a fine enough example of one, where the biggest problem is how Immonen illustrates the villain. He’s full of Hulk blood–thank goodness they were the same type–and he’s mutating. Immonen shows that mutation, but Jones’s dialogue doesn’t recognize it (as a continuing condition anyway). So there’s a big disconnect.

Jones also gets in a big cliffhanger. Will the Hulk be able to save the day? It’s an odd cliffhanger; the one with the least stake in it is Bruce. Jones really needs to work on that failing–Bruce needs to be active, not entirely reactive.



From Here to Infinity; writer, Bruce Jones; penciller, Stuart Immonen; inker, Scott Koblish; colorist, Studio F; letterers, Richard Starkings and Wes Abbott; editors, John Miesegaes, Warren Simons and Axel Alonso; publisher, Marvel Comics.

The Incredible Hulk 47 (January 2003)


I don’t know how he did it. Jones made everything mysterious literal and still the comic works. It’s a great explanation, but his presentation–more talking heads, but this time during a road trip (with awkward pauses)–is what sells it. He’s got a frantic pace, with Bruce always in some kind of danger, and the exposition just makes it move quicker.

What Jones also does is reward the reader. He brings up all the big moments he’s been repeating, either in flashback and dream sequence, and he lets the reader figure it out. Or, more accurately, figure out how he told the story.

The art makes it all possible. Immonen and Koblish can switch genres immediately–there’s another great action sequence at the end of this issue–and the story needs it. Bruce Banner is never on firm ground and Jones doesn’t let the reader get comfortable either.




Transfer of Power; writer, Bruce Jones; penciller, Stuart Immonen; inker, Scott Koblish; colorist, Studio F; letterers, Richard Starkings and Wes Abbott; editors, John Miesegaes, Warren Simons and Axel Alonso; publisher, Marvel Comics.

The Incredible Hulk 46 (December 2002)


Jones is bound and determined to confuse. Not only does he make it work this issue, he even makes his returning villain–previously rather lame–engaging. The villain kidnaps Bruce and takes him, inexplicably, to a morgue to investigate the latest murder charges against the good doctor.

On the way, there’s a lot of talking. Jones also employs some flashbacks to heighten to uncanny factor. The villain recaps the previous issue, sort of confirming the reader’s memory to him or herself, and then Jones doesn’t solve it. He’s got this incredible situation–pardon the adjective choice–and he makes it work in the context of the somewhat silly situation (Bond villain organizations) he’s set up.

The finish has a good soft cliffhanger or two and a nice action sequence from Immonen and Koblish. It’s all bad guys–Bruce is an observer; the artists’ skill makes it so good.

Excellent issue.



Multiple Organism; writer, Bruce Jones; penciller, Stuart Immonen; inker, Scott Koblish; colorist, Studio F; letterers, Richard Starkings and Wes Abbott; editors, John Miesegaes and Axel Alonso; publisher, Marvel Comics.

The Incredible Hulk 45 (November 2002)


About ninety percent of this issue is good. Jones should have spread it out over two parts–Bruce gets hit by a car (but doesn’t Hulk out?) and the lady who hit him takes him in and nurses him back to health. It opens with a text recap reminiscent of the TV show, which is awesome.

Juxtaposed against Bruce’s recovery–he’s really loopy, lots of strange dreams, which Immonen and inker Scott Koblish do well with–is someone crossing the country, encountering various unfortunate people. Sadly, Jones has a reveal at the end and it’s lackluster to say the least.

The confused Bruce thing is fantastic stuff. The lead-up to it is moody and effective. It feels perfect–rainy streets, Bruce Banner all alone with a strange alluring guest star… why Jones has to ruin it with a scene out of The Terminator, I don’t know.

The rest’s awesome.



Remember Me Never; writer, Bruce Jones; penciller, Stuart Immonen; inker, Scott Koblish; colorist, Studio F; letterers, Richard Starkings and Wes Abbott; editors, John Miesegaes and Axel Alonso; publisher, Marvel Comics.

The Incredible Hulk 44 (October 2002)


Jones does a familiar ruse but then explains the whole bit, which makes it a lot better than not. His secret organization after Banner is still a tad too Bond and a tad too much. But it’s definitely an amusing issue; he just needs to make Bruce half as interesting as any of the other characters. Even the villain gets to sweat this time.

Oh, and he needs to own his cliffhanger resolutions. One of them gets a followup and Jones dismisses the mystery of it in a matter-of-fact way. While it’s matter-of-fact for the characters, Jones is writing for the reader, isn’t he?

No. No, he’s not. That lack of interest in how the reader perceives things is Jones’s greatest strength and weakness on Hulk. Well, one of his weaknesses–Bruce’s too passive a main character.

Very nice Stuart Immonen art too. The comic entertains.



Now You See It; writer, Bruce Jones; penciller, Stuart Immonen; inker, Scott Koblish; colorist, Studio F; letterers, Richard Starkings and Wes Abbott; editors, John Miesegaes and Axel Alonso; publisher, Marvel Comics.

O.M.A.C. 3 (January 2012)


It’s the first all-action issue of O.M.A.C. and everyone–meaning Giffen and Koblish–does fine. There’s one great moment when O.M.A.C. “smashes,” which I assume was a Hulk reference.

But the issue introduces the first original villain, a very silly Psi-fi Man, who has a distended brain stem because he’s so smart and psychic.

It shouldn’t work, it really shouldn’t.

But like everything else in O.M.A.C., it does. Psi-fi Man works. Heck, after the send-off the issue gives him, I wish he’d get a one shot.

The book still manages not to be silly, even though… you know, it’s silly. Now Didio and Giffen are introducing (or reintroducing into the new DC Universe) Checkmate. Only they have these light show weapons out of Tron and whatnot. They’re after O.M.A.C., who’s zapping around the country, with Brother Eye setting him up for trouble.

O.M.A.C.‘s a constant joy.


Offensive Meetings, Antagonistic Communications; writers, Dan Didio and Keith Giffen; penciller, Giffen; inker, Scott Koblish; colorist, Hi-Fi; letterer, Travis Lanham; editors, Harvey Richards; publisher, DC Comics.

O.M.A.C. 2 (December 2011)


The second issue of O.M.A.C. is even better than the first, as Didio and Giffen embrace all their wackiness. Even when the wackiness is forced, it works great. Like the secret reveal at the end–it’s kind of obvious, but with Giffen’s Kirby-homage approach to the character, it works.

Didio and Giffen continue their Hulk approach with the O.M.A.C. guy moving around a desert town and getting into trouble because Brother Eye has some plans for him. But when they bring in an actual emotional need, they get away with it. Some of their dialogue is weak, but mostly just the guy talking to himself. Everything else works.

What works really well is the narration. It’s so intensely serious, it’s funny, which sums up half the book. The other half is the goofiness of the O.M.A.C. guy.

Didio and Giffen’s O.M.A.C. is perhaps the most singular title in DC’s relaunch.


Odd Meals Assure Confrontation; writers, Dan Didio and Keith Giffen; penciller, Giffen; inker, Scott Koblish; colorist, Hi-Fi; letterer, Travis Lanham; editor, Harvey Richards; publisher, DC Comics.

O.M.A.C. 1 (November 2011)


They had me until the last page. I mean, OMAC is a terrible idea for DC’s relaunch. It’s a big Kirby homage when the line is supposed to be geared at people who don’t know or care about Jack Kirby.

But it’s also Keith Giffen letting loose. Apparently, he can be freewheeling when he’s got the president of the company as his co-writer (or whatever Dan Didio’s position’s called). Because the story’s so straightforward and enthusiastic, they could practically get away with anything in terms of dialogue. But it’s still good dialogue. Giffen always had an ear for conversation.

The only problem–besides the last page (which might even be in the original Kirby continuity, I don’t care)–is Scott Koblish’s inks. He controls Giffen, making the lines thin and tight. For a better Kirby homage, it should’ve just been Giffen.

Maybe Koblish is supposed to make it accessible….


Office Management Amidst Chaos; writers, Dan Didio and Keith Giffen; penciller, Giffen; inker, Scott Koblish; colorist, Hi-Fi; letterer, Travis Lanham; editor, Harvey Richards; publisher, DC Comics.

DC Universe: Legacies 5 (November 2010)


This one’s Crisis issue and easily the best writing Wein has done on the series. It’s hard to decide why it’s his best though. My first thought was because this period—late seventies to mid-eighties—is when Wein was writing comics and he’s able to work well in that period. My next thought had to do with his stupid narrator and his convict brother-in-law. This time, Wein gets it taken care of in the first few pages, so there’s no waiting for it to rear its ugly head.

But maybe it’s even more simple—the majority of the issue is a “new” Crisis sequence. Lots of disaster, lots of superheroes, George Perez drawing. It just works.

The backup, with Simonson art, is some nonsensical space hero team-up thing, but Simonson, even as disinterested as he appears, does a fine job.

Easily the best issue so far.


Crisis!; pencillers, Scott Kolins and George Perez; inkers, Kolins and Scott Koblish; colorists, Mike Atiyeh and Allen Passalaqua; letterer, Rob Leigh. Snapshot: Resistance!; artist, Walt Simonson; colorist, Passalaqua; letterer, John Workman. Writer, Len Wein; editors, Rachel Gluckstern, Simona Martore and Mike Carlin; publisher, DC Comics.

The Immortal Iron Fist 9 (November 2007)


Koblish’s flashback pages start all right, but in the second set, he draws Wendall Rand rapidly punching and it looks like he’s got eight arms. It really drags one out of the narrative.

The principal story, with Danny losing his match in the competition so he can go out and save the world, moves a little fast. We find out the blue-eyed K’un-L’un girl is really Orson’s daughter (or she says she is… Danny sort of just accepts it). There’s almost nothing with anyone else in K’un-L’un, though there are some hints of personality coming through.

It’s hard to tell if Brubaker and Fraction just didn’t have space or if they wanted to be so abbreviated. When Luke, Misty and Colleen show up at the end (I’ll bet their paths cross with Danny’s eventually), it’s a welcome breather. The writers savor the scene.

It’s solid as ever.


The Seven Capital Cities of Heaven, Part 2; writers, Ed Brubaker and Matt Fraction; pencillers, David Aja and Scott Koblish; inkers, Aja, Raul Allen and Roy Allan Martinez; colorists, Matt Hollingsworth and June Chung; letterer, Artmonkeys Studios; editors, Alejandro Arbona and Warren Simons; publisher, Marvel Comics.

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