Secrets, Convergence, and the Sacred: Doomsday Clock #1

The following is my review of Doomsday Clock #1, which was posted on PopMatters.com.

In the colorful history of comics, there are only a handful of sacred concepts that can never be sullied. They can be refined, reimagined, or expanded, but to twist them is akin to poking the Hulk in the eye. It's just a reckless invitation for outrage and anguish. Whether it's Superman's virtue, Batman's gadgets, or Deadpool's love of tacos, these ideas have a special place in comics lore that may as well be carved in adamantium.

In the annuls of the DC mythos, few stories are as sacred or revered as Alan Moore's Watchmen. Even today, it's impossible to overstate just how groundbreaking this story was for DC and comics, as a whole. That story, in all its dark and cynical glory, shows just how far comics can take a particular concept. Watchmen really went for broke, taking on everything from the merits of heroism to the corruption that comes with god-like power. These are all concepts that play out in countless myths and Watchmen found a way to break new ground on these concepts.

It's for that reason that incorporating Watchmen into the DC universe carries a huge risk. It's one thing to expand the world of Watchmen, which was done in the Before Watchmen series. It's quite another to work it into the ongoing upheavals of the DC universe. Geoff Johns and Gary Frank set these worlds on a collision course with the events of DC Rebirth #1.

Now, with Doomsday Clock #1, the collision is imminent and the sacred status of Watchmen is at stake. Given that Johns and Grank are DC's creative equivalent of the A-Team, this historic gamble is in the best possible position to pay off. Doing so, however, means recapturing the same complexities and quirks of Watchmen. That's exactly what Doomsday Clock #1 spends most of the time doing and while Alan Moore may still resent everything DC does with his creations, it finds a way to succeed.

The world of Watchmen is still as dark as ever, but Doomsday Clock #1 effectively doubles down on it, building upon a world where heroes and men with god-like power set humanity on a dark, dangerous course. In a sense, it picks up where the last panel of Watchmen left off in a very literal sense. Rorschach's journal, which thoroughly documented the events of the original Watchmen, helps expose Ozymandias' elaborate ruse. From there, a world built on cynicism and disillusion somehow becomes even darker.

In a sense, the world of Doomsday Clock is the ultimate extreme in terms of what happens when a lie becomes too big to brush aside as an alternate fact. This concept is wholly relevant in an era where the biggest threat isn't the Soviet Union launching a nuclear attack. It's people who buy into the lies, half-truths, and agendas. A willingness to buy into those lies is exactly what characters like Ozymandias exploit, what Rorschach despises, and what the Comedian laughs at.

It's one thing to brush aside stories of presidents colluding with foreign agents. It's quite another to brush aside a massive deception that unleashes armies of monsters and kills millions in a bid to unite the world. That's a lie that nobody in the world of Doomsday Clock can accept or spin. Even the news media at their worst cannot hope to twist the facts into serving an agenda.

Johns and Frank really channel their inner Alan Moore and David Gibbons, which may be much easier today than it was in the mid-80s. They don't just guide the narrative through a darker, more cynical path. They push it to an extent where extremes like nuclear war feel expected, if not logical. They build a world full of people who find out that their heroes and their most powerful icons lied to them in a way that killed millions. It's a dark world, to say the least, and one where outrage manifests in more than hashtags.

Doomsday Clock once again puts the world of Watchmen on the brink of destruction. However, it's the ties to the world of DC Rebirth that really raises the stakes. What happens in this world can't just be brushed aside like one of the many elseworlds that build their structures around apocalyptic scenarios. Due to the events of DC Rebirth #1, these worlds are entwined now. That makes the story that unfolds in Doomsday Clock #1 feel so impactful.

That story doesn't rely heavily on DC's biggest heroes, nor does it try to incorporate the entire cast of Watchmen into the mix. It focuses on key characters like Ozymandias and Rorschach with support from secondary characters like Marionette and the Mime. They guide the bulk of the narrative, bringing Superman and the world of DC's heroes at the end. The ties between the two worlds are somewhat loose, but since they are already established thanks to DC Rebirth #1, there's still a strong sense of cohesion.

A big part of what makes Watchmen such a powerful story is how well it reflects the sentiments of a certain period in history. It's something that Before Watchmen didn't attempt, but Doomsday Clock #1 dares to follow that same approach. By nearly every measure, it works. The themes in the story are even more relevant in 2017 than they were in 1985. Adding the impact on the greater DC Universe only heightens the importance of those themes.

Every comic tries to be groundbreaking in its own right, but few have the context and the themes to achieve this. Watchmen succeeded by being ambitious at just the right time with just the right kind of story. That's a big part of why it has such a sacred status in the history of comics. Doomsday Clock can't achieve that same sacred status just yet, but it succeeds in capturing many of the elements that make Watchmen such a powerful story.

The prospect of the world of Watchmen impacting that of the larger DC universe remains intriguing. The events of Doomsday Clock #1 helps set that story up in a way that captures the same sentiments that make both worlds so compelling. Such an effort still has some lofty goals with some long odds, but so far, that gamble is paying off in a profound way.

Final Score: 9 out of 10

From Rebirth To Resolve: Wonder Woman #25

The following is my review of Wonder Woman #25, which was posted on PopMatters.com.

By every measure, Wonder Woman is having a great year. For the first time in her history, it's not unreasonable to say that hers is the brightest star in the DC trinity. Superman and Batman can have their epic battles and bitter disputes, but only Wonder Woman can say she raised her profile while maintaining the heart that makes her so endearing. She's conquered both the box office and the critics on Rotten Tomatoes, something that Batman and Superman's epic clash cannot claim.

Wonder Woman's star is burning so brightly at the moment that it's easy to forget that part of that flame has been regularly stoked by Greg Rucka and Liam Sharp in her comics. After the events of DC Rebirth, Wonder Woman goes through a sobering process of sorts. The world she thought she knew is shrouded with lies that she didn't know were plaguing her. The life she thought she had lived has gaping holes in it that she cannot ignore. For a woman used to extracting truth with her lasso and her charm, that's an unfamiliar feelings.

Like many other DC Rebirth titles, the narrative in Wonder Woman is crafted in a way that builds and escalates. At times, it tends to drag. On top of that, Rucka and Sharp explore some of the gaps that emerged while the DC universe underwent its messy rebirthing process. They end up having to retell, reshape, and update Wonder Woman's story, often while trying to tell a parallel story in the present. It's easy to lose track of the story, but it can make for a uniquely satisfying payoff.

Wonder Woman #25 marks the end of Rucka's run on the series. It also marks the epilogue of sorts of all the various plots within Wonder Woman's rebirth-induced history. It's no easy feat, revamping and retelling Wonder Woman's entire history in just 25 issues while a major Hollywood movie is making headlines in the background. Rucka rises to the challenge, providing a capstone of sorts to a journey that balances the hardened warrior, the loving spirit, and the feminine ideal that she embodies.

It's an important balancing act for Wonder Woman. Throughout her history, multiple writers approach her from various angles. For some, she's only that hardened warrior. For others, she's only that loving spirit and feminine ideal. As iconic a character she is, the stories about her tend to segment her character. All too often, only parts of her personality are explored. Rucka dares to use every one of them in Wonder Woman #25 and in many ways, it completes her rebirth process.

The story itself is built around the aftermath of a lengthy arc that jumps between time periods, exploring Wonder Woman's initial arrival into man's world and her latest clash with a couple menacing gods. Along the way, she faces an identity crisis that makes a rebirth all too necessary. She faces a painful, soul-crushing revelation. For someone who's used to getting the truth out of everyone with ease, that's an accomplishment, even for gods.

Entire chunks of Wonder Woman's life are called into question. Her faith in the gods, her heritage, and herself become subject to major doubt. At the same time, she's still trying to help her friends and still be a full-time member of the Justice League. It's stressful, to say the least. It sends the message that if someone like Wonder Woman can crack under the strain at times, then what hope does anyone have?

That hope doesn't stay lost for long, though. Early on, Rucka shows that Wonder Woman can still be Wonder Woman in the midst of so much upheaval. She can arrive on the scene with the Justice League, fight giant monsters, and hardly break a sweat in taking it down. The hardened warrior aspect of her character is rightly preserved. However, that's not the sole focus of the story or Wonder Woman's journey over the course of the past 25 issues. It's never more than a secondary focus because Wonder Woman embodies more than just a fighting spirit.

Much more of Wonder Woman #25 focuses on her heart, which is heavy and wounded. She spent a great deal of her recent journey trying to save Dr. Barbara Minerva from the clutches of Cheetah, but circumstances beyond her control make that impossible. That's pretty heart-wrenching because when something is impossible for Wonder Woman, who regularly deals with gods, monsters, and Batman, that makes clear that some things are just beyond anyone's control.

She still makes an effort to help her former friend. She also makes a desperate plea for help from the last person who would want to help her. Even with all her love and heart, it isn't enough. It shows in the way she fights. Even her fellow friends on the Justice League sense it. When she finally gets around to confronting it, she has to essentially accept what she can't control. The truth may hurt, but that doesn't make it any less important. There are people who go their entire lives avoiding that. Wonder Woman confronts it, even when she's angry and wounded. Given her immortal heritage, that's quite an accomplishment.


Rucka goes heavy on the symbolism, giving Wonder Woman a love/hate relationship with her magic lasso at a time when the truth can hurt even an immortal warrior woman. Sharp's colorful artwork keeps the tone of the story from getting too bleak or dire. In the end, her willingness to take back her lasso and accept the harsh truth for what it is highlights the end of a journey that Wonder Woman needed to take. It's a journey that strengthens every part of her character, as well as those around her.

As fitting an end as Wonder Woman #25 is to that journey, it does gloss over a few issues and rushes a few others. There's never a clear resolution with Cheetah and Wonder Woman's acceptance of the truth feels somewhat rushed. The fact she only needs a pep talk before taking back her lasso feels somewhat unremarkable, if not contrived. There are a lot of arguments she could've and probably should've had with the gods that deceived her. However, those conversations are essentially shrugged off in favor of some sexy time with Steve Trevor. On some levels, though, that's a fair trade-off.

Overall, Rucka's run on Wonder Woman is a remarkable accomplishment. At a time when Gal Gadot, Chris Pine, and Patty Jenkins are elevating Wonder Woman's star to new heights, her DC: Rebirth journey finds a way to make that star burn a little brighter. Wonder Woman is tough, compassionate, loving, loyal, and beautiful on every level. It's not something that most people need to be reminded of, but some reminders are still worth having.

Final Score: 8 out of 10

The Wonder of What Wonder Woman Embodies: Wonder Woman #10

The following is my review of Wonder Woman #10, which was posted on PopMatters.com.

There are some origin stories that don't need to be retold again. The story of how Bruce Wayne lost his parents or how Clark Kent lost his home planet are so overplayed that there's really not much new to add to the narrative. We, the audience, get the message. We know why Bruce Wayne is Batman. We know why Clark Kent is Superman.

With Wonder Woman, however, the situation is different. Despite being the third pillar of DC's mighty trinity, her origin story is one of the few that DC Comics doesn't overly belabor. The setup is already established. Wonder Woman's basic history of growing up on an island of immortal women and rubbing elbows with Greek gods is easy to grasp. Anyone with access to Wikipedia can glean those details.

What Greg Rucka and Nicola Scott are doing with Wonder Woman in DC Rebirth takes it a step further. Conflicts in the present are used to explore elements of Wonder Woman's past. One issue covers the past. One covers the present. It sounds disorganized on paper, but in the grand scheme of things, it fits together into a fairly cohesive narrative.

It's not a re-imagining. It's not a reboot or a retcon either. In many respects, it's an overdue dose of depth. Despite 75 years of history, the Wonder Woman mythos is sufficiently vague to permit a certain level of refinement. Wonder Woman #10 takes advantage of that opportunity and adds a level of refinement that brings out the best in Wonder Woman.

There are no vindictive gods, shape-shifting monsters, or invading aliens in this narrative. In fact, Wonder Woman does surprisingly little fighting in this issue, but given how she seems to fight a new god, alien, or monster every other day, it's a refreshing and overdue change of pace. Instead, the story gives us a glimpse into Wonder Woman's past, focusing on her early exploration of man's world in its simplest form, namely by taking a trip to a local strip mall.

Granted, this a strip mall in America is hardly the most comprehensive insight into man's world, but it's fitting in that it doesn't make a terrible impression. Sure, there's excessive noise, rampant consumerism, and gaudy advertising displays, but there's nothing so horrifying that it would inspire an island of warrior women to purge the world of testosterone. Steve Trevor and Eta Candy even introduce her to margaritas. That's as good an impression man's world could make without something deep fried and dipped in chocolate.

This helps create a uniquely balanced tone for Wonder Woman #10. Rucka doesn't attempt to make Wonder Woman's impression of man's world too extreme. There's no emphasis on violence, rampant gender inequalities, and oppressive patriarchy. The world in which Wonder Woman explores never comes off as a beer commercial or a bad sitcom from the late 1950s. It actually makes the case that man's world is worth exploring and protecting.

It fits nicely with the overall tone of DC Rebirth in that the narrative isn't overly focused on dark and dire themes. There's still room for hope, understanding, and justice. Those are all among the highest qualities that Wonder Woman embodies. She's not just this tough warrior woman in a tiara who fights aliens and renegade gods alongside Superman and Batman. She stands for her own set of values, embodies them to the utmost, and looks great while doing it.

She eagerly interacts with total strangers, embracing them regardless of their age, gender, or ethnicity. She's not at all put off by the sight of men interacting with women, children making unfiltered comments about her attire, or the woefully impractical shoes that some women wear. Wonder Woman has any number of opportunities to be offended or appalled, but doing so would require her to be overly petty.

Such pettiness is the antithesis of what Wonder Woman values. She loves and embraces everybody. She's willing to give others a chance and she's not going to be politically correct about it. These are all powerful values that Wonder Woman has always embodied to some degree, but there have been too few stories that explore how she shaped these values upon coming to man's world. It's still a story not nearly as familiar as Kryton exploding, but it's a story worth exploring.

Wonder Woman is less a warrior and more an ambassador in this issue, but that's not to say the hard-nosed warrior in her is completely muted in Wonder Woman #10. She does get a chance to fight. She does get a chance to protect the innocent. Granted, it's not against rampaging titan or an agent of Darkseid, but she still gets to be the wonderful hero she is at heart. It's not exactly an epic battle in which the outcome is in question. This is Wonder Woman fighting in a crowded strip mall after drinking a margarita. It can only be so epic in that context.

Despite the limited scale of the fighting, there's still some meaning and depth to the conflict. This isn't just some random attack meant to fill Wonder Woman's hard-nose warrior quota. It's an attack that has ties, albeit vaguely, to the events taking place in the present. In terms of tying Wonder Woman #10 into the larger narrative that has been unfolding since the DC Rebirth relaunch, this issue does succeed, albeit barely.

The ties to a larger narrative may be limited, but Wonder Woman #10 still succeeds in its most important task. It highlights a period in Wonder Woman's story that is poorly developed and in need of greater depth. This issue gives us that without belaboring the parts we already know.

Greg Rucka and Nicola Scott are crafting a large, ambitious story that jumps around multiple time periods, puts a modern spin on a classic superhero mythos, and highlights the core values of an iconic character. It still feels like something that's too convoluted on paper, but they somehow find a way to make it work. That is a wonder, in and of itself.

Final Score: 8 out of 10

Shallow Justice: Justice League Rebirth #1

The following is my review of Justice League Rebirth #1, which was posted on PopMatters.com.

There are certain concepts of justice that aren't subject to politics, laws, or retcons. These concepts transcend eras, cultures, and hashtags. They act as the binding ideals of humanity. Debate over these ideals is never-ending, but these debates are necessary to provide context to these ideals. That's what makes the goals of the Justice League so daunting, but so meaningful. Without this context, they're just another team of superheroes hoping that their movie tops Avengers.

In the aftermath of DC: Rebirth and Darkseid Wars, the context of the Justice League is in flux. It's not just a result of changes in the lineup and the latest (albeit no-so-greatest) death of Superman. The overall mood and tone of the Justice League is changing. The New 52 utilized certain themes, attempting to be more mature than it needed to be at times. Justice League Rebirth #1 attempts to refine these themes in a way that doesn't feel like regression.

If there is a kryptonite to the new direction of DC: Rebirth, it's this perception of regression. There's no denying that the New 52 had its flaws. The post-Crisis status quo had its flaws too. The challenge with DC: Rebirth is to not come off as exchanging a new flaws for old ones. In the end, it leaves things just as flawed as before and sets a dangerous precedent that DC will resort to Mephisto-like tactics to tweak its continuity. The tweaks in Justice League Rebirth #1 are meaningful in the sense that it moves the narrative forward. However, the progression, in terms of meaningful context, is lacking.

The purpose of the narrative is simple. It puts the Justice League in a situation where they need Superman and two new Green Lanterns, Simon Baz and Jessica Cruz, to join their ranks. It succeeds in this respect, but with limited drama and little sense of progression. Absent of any context and such a simple narrative works as well as any story that involves superheroes fighting giant monsters. It's a narrative that the Justice League handles whenever Lex Luthor has too much free time. Within that context, however, the story lacks impact.

Taking a step back and looking at the bigger post-Rebirth picture, we see a Justice League that just suffered a terrible loss with the death of Superman. They just lost someone who helps them come together in their first battle against Darkseid. It's a big loss on so many levels. They didn't just lose a teammate. Wonder Woman lost a lover. The world lost an icon. It's a hole that can't be easily filled with clones, cyborgs, or relatives. DC already tried that in the 90s and, like the Batman movies of the time, it didn't work.

Bryan Hitch tries to highlight the impact of this loss in the battle against a generic, city-sized monster. That loss, however, is undercut by the arrival of the post-Crisis Superman, who has been waiting in the wings since Convergence. He looks like Superman. He talks like Superman. He is pretty much the same Superman that the Justice League remembers, rendering the death of their former teammate to a mere inconvenience. This being Superman, the gold standard for superheroes for eight decades running, that's downright callous.

The arrival of the new/old Superman effectively overshadows the arrival of Jessica Cruz and Simon Baz. Their arrival doesn't contribute much. They just show up to aid a Justice League that lacks both Superman and Green Lantern. They lack Hal Jordan's attitude, but bring some needed firepower. However, that's all they bring. While they do have potential, most of this potential goes unrealized.

Once again, the situation is reduced to convenience. The Justice League lacks a Green Lantern. They end up getting two, which seems like a bargain until they fail to bring anything new to the table. It's the same issue with the new/old Superman. They're basically conveyed as spare Lego pieces, interchangeable with their predecessors and allowing the Justice League to continue as though nothing happened.

This is the flaw that the larger context that Justice League Rebirth #1 exposes. The significant losses that the team is still processing suddenly becomes irrelevant. The death of Superman and the absence of Hal Jordan no longer matter. Rather than doing justice to those losses, the story focuses entirely on filling the void with other characters. The drama, the relationships, and the dynamics within the team are an afterthought. The goal of Justice League Rebirth #1 is to just give the team a full roster again. It succeeds in this respect, albeit in a very shallow way.

That's not to say that Hitch's narrative is completely lacking. The battle against the generic giant monster has more depth than a typical Power Ranger rerun and even hints at the larger threats that the Justice League will face moving forward. It does highlight just how important it is to have someone like Superman and Green Lantern in their ranks, but the ease with which they fill those ranks still undermines the drama.

At the very least, Justice League Rebirth #1 offers a fairly concise story that re-establishes the Justice League as a complete team. Unfortunately, it does so in a way that feels shallow and forced, undermining any drama or upheaval that may have emerged otherwise. It's a missed opportunity in some respects, but it does move Justice League forward into the post-Rebirth status quo. It still comes at the cost of utterly undermining the death of Superman. Whether that cost is worth the results is debatable, but given the context of Rebirth, it's a lopsided debate at best.

Final Score: 5 out of 10

Obscuring a Mythos: Wonder Woman #1

The following is my review of Wonder Woman #1, which was posted on PopMatters.com.

The strength of any ancient myth is measured by how well it conveys its themes. There's a reason why certain myths transcend generations, cultures, and network cancellations. They reflect ideals and insights into the human condition. The stories may include colorful plots like gods knocking up mortal women, but the strength of that story is what separates timeless myths from boring reruns.

Wonder Woman's entire persona is built around the themes of ancient myths. From her divine creation to her divine abilities to her divine insights into the affairs of man, she personifies the strength of every myth, regardless of who some playful god impregnates. She epitomizes the ideals of womanhood and the warrior spirit. The strength of her story transcends eras from the hyper-masculine bravado of the '80s to the communist paranoia of the '50s.

Now, the events of DC Rebirth are poised to confuse and confound this story, adding uncertainty to the entire foundation of Wonder Woman's mythos. Is she the daughter of Zeus? Is she molded from clay? Is she the rightful God of War? Is she destined to emasculate Steve Trevor at every turn? These are all questions that linger in the backdrop of Wonder Woman #1, but little is done to answer any of them. There aren't even any telling hints, be they ominous teasers or divine impregnations.

Instead, Greg Rucka attempts to set up a new story and a new conflict with Wonder Woman. On paper, the concept has some merit. He even succeeds in fleshing out this concept to some degree, but that success is marginal at best. That's not to say it fails though. There is some intrigue at work within this narrative. It just leaves too many unanswered questions and too few reasons to get excited. The effect is undeniable. When Wonder Woman fighting mythical monsters fails to excite, then there's definitely something missing.

The story itself basically starts in the middle of a conflict. Wonder Woman is on a journey, which is a common narrative in many classical myths. That journey puts her in an exotic locale that is much more colorful than the streets of Gotham or the skies of Metropolis. While the snarling beasts aren't quite as memorable as homicidal clowns, it does reflect Wonder Woman's mythical heritage and gives her a target for her mythical strength. Without any added context, however, it may as well be a typical Tuesday for Wonder Woman.

That's not to say there aren't other forces behind the scenes, providing context to Wonder Woman's journey. Rucka actually introduces a key figure in Wonder Woman's mythos that has been absent in recent years, namely Etta Candy. However, this version of her is very different a lot less colorful. She's basically an Amanda Waller wannabe, running some secret government operation that adds unnecessary bureaucracy to everyday heroes. It's an intriguing introduction with intriguing potential, but much of that potential goes unrealized.

Wonder Woman #1 focuses less on realizing potential and more on creating a foundation. That foundation does build somewhat on the recent events of DC Rebirth, which led Wonder Woman to question the details of her origins story. Any origin that involves gods impregnating mortal women or bringing clay figurines to life is bound to be confusing, but the foundation here does little to resolve that confusion. In some ways, it outright ignores it, which is a noticeable crack in the foundation.

Rucka tries to fill those cracks in by developing a sub-plot with Steve Trevor and Etta Candy, tying their conflicts to Wonder Woman's journey. The connection between these details is lacking, but it there is at least some sense of cohesion. It's limited, but it effectively gives roles to Wonder Woman's supporting cast. As Batman can attest, a supporting cast is vital in any iconic mythos.

Unlike Batman though, Wonder Woman's supporting doesn't directly aid her journey. They just make sure nobody distracts her so she can focus on the task at hand. However, the nature of that task doesn't become clear until later in the story. Before then, Wonder Woman spends most of her time just warning the monsters that attack her and fighting them when they ignore her warnings. It's not exactly the kind of tactic that makes a myth epic.

Even so, Rucka does make an effort to highlight the most important aspects of Wonder Woman's character. She's not just a warrior and an icon who can survive being on a team with Batman and Green Lantern. She's a woman of compassion and mercy, offering it even to monsters who stand in her way. Even though they ignore it as if it were typical trash talk, it reinforces a key component of Wonder Woman's identity.

That identity is a lot more vital in wake of DC Rebirth. With Wonder Woman being so unsure of her origins, it makes sense to remind herself and others of who she is and what she stands for. It ends up being the only real certainty conveyed in Wonder Woman #1 because many other details are left undeveloped and unaddressed.

There's nothing egregious about the way Rucka handles Wonder Woman or her supporting cast. Nobody sleeps with a god, makes a deal with Mephisto, or trusts Lex Luthor. The story surrounding these characters is simply lacking in context and detail. Without that, the story falls flat and there's a reason stories like that don't make their way into AP English classes or comic racks.

The aftermath of DC Rebirth is affecting all corners of the DC Universe. With Wonder Woman, however, these effects seem detached and distant. Wonder Woman #1 tries to build a new foundation on top of one that is still incomplete. The elements of her mythos are there. There are even a few new elements that have the potential to develop. Despite this, the details aren't there. The connections are weak, if present at all. For a mythos as iconic as Wonder Woman, the standards are high and potential alone never slayed a titan.

Final Score: 4 out of 10

Disingenuously Desecrating an Icon: Superman #52

The following is my review of Superman #52, which was posted on PopMatters.com.

In the early 90s, DC Comics did the unthinkable. They killed Superman. They killed a character who can lift mountains, survive supernovas, and somehow remain relevant despite Batman getting more movies. Death of Superman remains a landmark moment for Superman and superhero comics as a whole. Now, a little over two decades later, the idea of Superman dying is officially overdone.

It seems to be the only way to significantly shift Superman's narrative, killing him off and having the rest of the DC Universe deal with the ramifications. That's the approach that Batman v. Superman: Dawn of Justice utilizes and, as its score on Rotten Tomatoes shows, it doesn't evoke the same passion it did in the early 90s. Now, Superman #52 attempts to utilize this approach in the soon-to-be-rebranded comics.

It's the culmination of a long, overdrawn story that begins after Superman finally got his powers and his Fortress of Solitude back. Now, he's dying and trying to prepare the world for his extended absence, not knowing how poorly his death stuck in the early 90s. However, there's no epic showdown with Doomsday, Darkseid, or Lex Luthor. There's no final journey to cross off the remaining items on his bucket list. Essentially, Superman #52 takes the opposite approach that Grant Morrison took with All-Star Superman and naturally, it shows in the results.

The story that Peter Tomasi finishes never feels complete, concise, or all that dramatic. That's not to say there isn't some level of drama surrounding Superman's pending death. It just comes off as incredibly hollow and for a story that involves the death of a major character, this is the antithesis of the emotions conveyed in the original Death of Superman. Considering that Death of Superman is an over 20-years-old, heavily retconned story, the shortcomings of this story are all the more egregious.

There's no final battle between Superman and some overwhelming evil. He's just battling some deranged copy of himself that he accidentally created with his solar flare power. That means Superman dies fixing a mistake he inadvertently made. It's about as heroic as Tony Stark destroying an evil machine that helps create. The difference with Superman here is that his battle isn't likely to inspire a billion-dollar movie.

There's very little depth to Superman's double. It lacks the menacing presence of Doomsday or the devious personality of Darkseid. He's just a deranged version of Superman who has better grammar than Bizarro. The battle attempts to be epic, but it never dares to be more visceral or violent than a Superfriends rerun. Batman and Wonder Woman are present, but they do nothing to help. They literally can't do anything. Their presence is completely wasted in this struggle. They're just there as witnesses and nothing more.

Even as witnesses though, the drama and impact of Superman's death falls distressingly flat. There's only a brief moment of between Superman and Wonder Woman where she says goodbye to him. That moment basically does the bare minimum for a relationship that developed over the course of four years of comics and not a fraction more.

There's also a moment where he says goodbye to Lois and Lana as well. This doesn't even come close to the bare minimum. There are some tears, but they're distinctly lacking in anguish. The moment is so rushed and contrived that it never has a chance to evoke any real drama. There's more drama in the first five minutes of a Smallville rerun than there is in the entirety of Superman #52. It comes off as wholly disingenuous to this version of Superman and every other version of Superman, retconned or otherwise.

This highlights one of the greatest flaws of the narrative as a whole. The impact from the original Death of Superman is iconic because for a time, it meant that the DC Universe had to function without Superman. That impact is not only completely lacking in Superman #52. It might as well be an inconvenient formality because there's already another Superman with the exact same skills, powers, and personality waiting in the wings. This Superman, a holdover from the events of Convergence, can pretty much pick up where he left off and not miss a beat.

The situation is as such where an iconic character like Superman can die and it has no major ramifications. The DC Universe still has a functioning, competent Superman. Anybody who sees him has no way of telling the difference between him and his predecessor. It's an accomplishment in the worst possible way, making Superman's death feel meaningless and forced. It doesn't just make for a poorly crafted story. It renders the very concept of Superman as something that can be copied, pasted, and pretty much discounted like a faulty battery.

Superman #52 fails at almost every level to make the end of Superman's story in the New 52 feel meaningful. At best, it's rushed and hollow. At worst, it's outright forced by shoving one version of a character aside to make way for another that is almost exactly the same. The circumstances, context, and timing for this narrative can't be worse. Superman is being killed off in multiple mediums, so much so that the shock value just isn't there anymore. By failing to add substance to this story, it feels like a waste.

There is, at the very least, some effort in Superman #52 to show that Superman's death will have some impact on the overall landscape of the DC Universe. From a conceptual standpoint, however, the impact is still very limited. In the end, the final results for the latest and not-so-greatest saga revolving around Superman dying feels downright callous towards DC's most iconic hero.

Final Score: 2 out of 10

Hope, Love, and Bikinis: Starfire #12

The following is my review of Starfire #12, which was posted on PopMatters.com.

There are some characters who are simply beyond redemption and not all of them are clones, robots, or Nazis. Sometimes, a character goes in a direction that takes them past the point of no return, rendering them a punchline and a cautionary tale. That's not to say Starfire got close to that point, but she came closer than most after DC's New 52 reboot.

It's hard to forget the bland yet buxom persona that Starfire wielded in the early days of Red Hood and the Outlaws. That version of the character had the presence of groupie for an '80s hair metal band and only a fraction of the personality. She carried herself in a way that makes a Kardashian seem reserved. It marked a complete departure of the lovable yet immodest character that is supposed to embody the heart and soul of Teen Titans. That makes the journey that ends in Starfire #12 all the more satisfying.

Amanda Conner and Jimmy Palmiotti take on the daunting challenge of making Starfire lovable and interesting in a way that doesn't involve presenting her as a walking Playboy centerfold. It's challenging because it's easy to make a beautiful woman appealing, even if she's an alien with orange skin and liberal attitudes towards nudity. It's like a cheat code on a difficult video game, tempting writers to enter it every time they get stuck.

Beautiful female characters will always have a certain level. The forces of evolution hardwire male brains into being drawn to them. The real challenge is building on top of that appeal so that it doesn't completely define the character. Conner and Palmiotti succeed in that challenge any number of ways throughout this series, giving Starfire new friends, new roles, and new opportunities to do more than just look good in a bikini. Starfire #12 takes those successes and celebrates them, literally at one point.

This isn't a sad, solemn goodbye. This isn't a tragic, depressing memory in the making that will require therapy at some point. Starfire is leaving the home she built in this series, but she's leaving it with a smile and a sense of hope. At a time when DC Comics can't resist the urge to kill Superman in every possible medium, it's a breath of fresh air that brings out the best of character who badly needs it.

The friends that Starfire made in this series are the main ingredient that make this series work. Stella, Sol, and Terra aren't just supporting characters who manage to move Starfire's story forward without dying. They each have their own story to tell. Those stories make up vital moments throughout this series and Starfire #12 acts as a culmination of those stories.

Stella, a wonderfully balanced female character with a crass sense of humor, acts as an anchor of sorts for Starfire. She helps reveal both the harsh and not-so-harsh truths of living in a world populated by humans who don't share Starfire's strength, powers, or attitudes towards nudity. She's crass at times, but in a loving sort of way. She's a perfect complement for Starfire, being all too human at times and having a good sense of humor about it. When there are so many jokes to be made about Starfire's sexualized persona, this kind of attitude is practically necessary.

In addition to Stella's friendship, Starfire enjoys a more intimate connection with her brother Sol, but not in the typical Baywatch tradition. There is chemistry. There is sincerity. It is not on par with Superman and Lois Lane, but it's more meaningful than 95 percent of the relationships Tony Stark has ever had.

Sol isn't some nerdy, Big Bang Theory stereotype either. He does rescue work for the Coast Guard and recently lost someone dear to him. He's as well-rounded and sympathetic a character as anyone can be without being too much like Batman. The culmination of his story actually helps bring out another important component of Starfire's character that sets her apart and makes her appealing, regardless of whether or not she's wearing a bikini.

As Starfire is making the hard decision to leave Key West, she finds out that Sol is now romantically involved with a co-worker. This isn't a love triangle though. There isn't another Wolverine/Jean Grey/Cyclops scenario where someone gets heartbroken or goes on a cosmic-powered rampage. Starfire, once again showing some very alien attitudes, is genuinely happy for Sol. She loves that someone she loves has found love. It might sound like the kind of hippie philosophy that only works on communes and dirty movies, but it actually highlights an important part of Starfire's character.

Because of how she looks, what she does, and how she does it, it's easy to forget sometimes that Starfire is an alien. She comes from a very alien culture. She's even explored that culture at various points in this series, making it clear that her people are loving and empathic. To them, the idea of being upset that someone else has found love seems irrational and cruel. It creates an important context for Starfire's character that's easy to overlook when she's wearing a bikini, but it gives her a level of depth and sincerity that makes her easy to love.

Pretty much everything Starfire does in Starfire #12 helps make her a lovable character again. She surrounds herself with her new friends, gives them a sincere goodbye, and then leaves. It might not sound exciting, but it conveys the necessary drama, making the narrative of the overall series feel complete.

For those who didn't follow the series from its inception, it might be difficult to appreciate the story as a whole. It does lack action and excitement compared to previous issues, but Starfire #12 doesn't need a final showdown or an elaborate boss battle. It just needs to complete this portion of Starfire's journey as a character and it's a journey she needed to take, even if she didn't do some parts of it fully clothed.

After Starfire #12, Conner and Palmiotti can now boldly claim that they rebuilt Starfire's character. They made her lovable beyond her innate sex appeal. It's a remarkable accomplishment in the grand scheme of superhero characters. When a female character can be both lovable and sexy, everybody wins.

Final Score: 8 out of 10