Mark Waid

Created to change the United Planets, the Legion of Super-Heroes now finds itself in the position of having to save it. As a result, this volume of the Mark Waid/Barry Kitson Legion of Super-Heroes is much less about revolution the first one, drifting away somewhat from the series's unique selling point. Of course, Waid and Kitson are still masters of their craft, and there's lots to enjoy here, good twists and pay-offs and genuine character drama. Loved what happened to "Atom Girl," loved show more that Brainiac 5 used the slingshot of the original Robin, loved the role of Dream Girl in the proceedings. And much more.

There are points where revolution is discussed, though. Sun Boy, the only Legionnaire whose parents don't disapprove of his being a member, starts to realize that it's not really about the cause they're fighting for, but rather that he's "just an opportunity for them to relive their days as young radicals. Which sucks."

The book also explores the appropriate way to create social change, with both external and internal conflict. Brainiac 5 begins to chafe at Cosmic Boy's leadership of the Legion, believing that Cos is too accommodating of diverse perspectives. Cos would rather create a coalition of diverse interests united around common goals, while Brainiac favors a smaller group dedicated to his leadership of the Legion. Cos's beliefs are shown to have both pluses and minuses: the Legion is awe-inspiring in its size, but its open-door policy proves to be dangerous when it allows suicide bombers to enter into the Legion plaza without interference. I think Cos wins in the end, with his argument that "The Legion’s not twenty guys with corny names and costumes! It is everyone across the galaxy who has made any kind of sacrifice to take back the future! It is everyone who has ever worn this [the Legion symbol] knowing that it makes a difference!" The Legion followers end up fighting alongside the core group in battle, helping save the day. But Brainiac is right that diversity and acceptance comes with its own challenges, challenges that Cosmic Boy struggles to overcome in this book. (In fact, Cosmic Boy needs to be compelled into not leaving the Legion through subterfuge by Invisible Kid.)

Cos does make compromises. In the 31st century, all underagers are monitored on the communications network known as the Public Service; Cos has the opportunity to shut it down, but he ends up needing it communicate during the war against Terror Firma, when it turns out to be the only functioning communications system in the U.P. The revolution is forced to sacrifice some of its principles in order to survive, for better or for ill.

Finally, Terror Firma turns out to be a revolutionary movement itself, albeit a terrorist one (I guess the name is a clue). Made up of the descendants of U.P. citizens exiled to a now-forgotten prison planet, they want to change the corrupt society they were exiled from. But their methods and justifications, especially those of their leader, Praetor Lemnos, remind me of Ozymandias from Watchmen: Lemnos is the man who can shrug off the deaths of innocents to achieve utopia, due to his belief that rebuilding has to take place starting from a blank slate. The conflict between the Legion and Terror Firma thus reenacts an age-old philosophical dispute between revolutionaries: gradual reform vs. catastrophic restart. Perhaps even without thinking about it, the Legion throws their lot in with gradual reform. The implications of that choice will be explored in the series going forward. show less

OK, I admit it, I was sucked in by the description and the clever play on Waid’s earlier titles—the idea is that a former sidekick has grown up to become a horrific, Bieberesque human being, and his former lead superhero (and also, his father) has to work with him one last time. Boy, do they hate each other, the way family members who worked together for years realistically may hate each other, while also caring. Interesting variation on the Batman/Robin/dead hero’s mother trope, if show more you can stand one more woman in a refrigerator. Also gives us superheroes in the age of social media, with my takeaway being that there’s no way to win: being in the public eye means taking a lot of unwarranted hate along with whatever’s warranted. show less

Access a version of the below that includes illustrations (and discussion of the book's relevance to the Blackhawks) on my blog.

This book comes from a (somewhat odd, in retrospect) period of DC history where Batman, Superman, and Wonder Woman were not founding members of the Justice League, thanks to various changes in continuity introduced following Crisis on Infinite Earths. Thus, the main characters are the Flash (Barry Allen), Green Lantern (Hal Jordan), Black Canary (Dinah Laurel show more Lance), Aquaman, and the Martian Manhunter. The story chronicles the first year of the JLA, picking up from them fighting off an alien invasion. They organize as a group, face various crises, discover that the alien invasion they fought off is not quite over, try (and fail) to recruit Superman, and learn about each other and themselves and how to work as a team.

I loved it. This is, as far as I am concerned, perfect superhero comics. This should be of little surprise to anyone familiar with the other work of the creative team; Mark Waid is, in my opinion, one of the all-time greats, able to unite continuity with characterization in really compelling ways. I haven't read much by his frequent collaborator Brian Augustyn, but Waid sings his praises in the intro, so clearly they are simpatico. Definitely also simpatico is Barry Kitson; Kitson came out of the UK comics scene (specifically, of course, Transformers), but really won himself over to me with his amazing five-year run on L.E.G.I.O.N., where he went from pencilling the title to plotting it and then scripting it. That was, I believe, where he first worked with Waid, who scripted the title for a year. After JLA: Year One, the two would work together on the excellent Legion of Super-Heroes "threeboot".

All of this is to say, I think this creative team was entirely on the same page, and what was on that page is beautiful. I like my superhero comics to be character-driven and fun, and this is undoubtedly both. One of the benefits of this odd team is that they have a lot of good hooks for characterization, especially early in their superheroic careers. Aquaman is trying to adjust to living on the surface world, where he feels like an alien of sorts; I liked the idea that he mumbles compared to people from the surface because of how sound propagates more loudly underwater.

I think Hal is probably the one who gets the fewest character moments, actually, but he's fine, even if the playboy thing is laid on a bit thick. (I do, however, think the decision to call Tom Kalmaku "Pie" was not really any better than "Pieface" surely.)

Black Canary is a real highlight of the book, which as a Dinah Laurel Lance stan I very much appreciated. Post-Crisis, Black Canary was split into two characters: Dinah Drake (later Dinah Drake Lance), who was the Justice Society's Black Canary, and Dinah Laurel Lance, her daughter. But in most of the comics I've read, this is a fact of backstory, not something dealt with in the narrative; one of the benefits of going back to Black Canary's origin is actually seeing how she relates to her mother. The elder Dinah wants to mold the younger into her own image, but the younger Dinah must find her own path. There is a lot of good JSA stuff in the book; Dinah is often comparing her new colleagues to the heroes she grew up alongside, but also she discovers that those heroes weren't so perfect, as Waid and Augustyn make good use of the revelation from Starman that the elder Dinah had an affair with Ted Knight, the original Starman.

I think Barry Allen's thread is less involved than either Black Canary's or Martian Manhunter's, but Waid and Augustyn and Kitson do well by him. (Which I guess makes sense, as they cowrote an acclaimed and long run on The Flash, even if it was about Wally West.)

The other real highlight is Martian Manhunter, even more of an outsider than Aquaman, but also able to pass thanks to his shapeshifting and telepathy. His discomfort at seeing the way his teammates treat the aliens they fight, his need to better understand them that goes places that violate their privacy, his belief that they and humanity can do better, they're all very well done.

What really makes the characterization sing, though, is the interactions. There are lots of moments between them all: John and Aquaman, Hal and Barry, Barry and Dinah, and so on, all the permutations you can think of, perfectly rendered. This is a team of people, in their highs and their lows; you understand why the team (briefly) turns on Martian Manhunter, but the moment where he needs to tune himself telepathically into an alien device, and the whole team comes together to help him do it is a genuine punch-the-air moment, I loved it.

Beyond that, the book is just fun and inventive, taking those old Silver Age stories and filtering them through a modern perspective without being either overly nostalgic or cynical. (Weird to think, actually, that this book is now thirty years old, which is about how old the original Justice League stuff was when this was written.) We see Vandal Savage, we see the Doom Patrol, we see Snapper Carr, we get cameos from Oliver Queen and Maxwell Lord. At the end of the book, the invading aliens trap every superhero on Earth in a prison, which gives the JLA its chance to shine—but also means that once the JLA liberates the others, we get glimpses of all the superheroes of the Earth at this time. (In some cases, I suspect the continuity timing doesn't add up, but who cares.) I found that each issue of this series just flew by, perfect superhero comics. show less

I like the starting premise: Stephen Strange has had his hands fully healed so he can resume practice as a neurosurgeon. Early issues play with him trying to find a balance between his medical practice and his responsibilities as the Sorcerer Supreme. A supporting cast of characters is set up at the McCarthy Medical Institute where he works on an as-needed basis, but before they can be even partially developed Strange gets distracted by a supernatural arms dealer and the series was show more prematurely canceled.

Waid is a solid and reliable writer, and I'm sorry he didn't get a chance to fully explore this concept and that Strange instead had to go through the pointless detour that is The Death of Doctor Strange. show less