Winning Streaks and Resolutions: Civil War II #8

The following is my review of Civil War II #8, which was posted on PopMatters.com.

Every major sports dynasty in every meaningful sport learns at some point that a winning streak has to end. Whether it's the Russians in the 1980 Winter Olympics, the undefeated New England Patriots in Super Bowl XLII, or the New York Yankees every five years or so, they learn that no winning streak can last forever. More often than not, learning that lesson is pretty painful.

In the context of Marvel Comics, Tony Stark is very much on par with the New York Yankees. He's been managing a winning streak that dates back to the conclusion of the first Civil War back in 2005. Within the Marvel/Disney hierarchy, he's right up there with princesses and talking animals in terms of importance and prominence. He's not just the character that revived Robert Downey Jr.'s career. He's very much the catalyst for the modern Marvel universe, as it has manifested over the past decade.

With Civil War II, he faces the biggest threat to his losing streak to date. Once again, he finds himself leading a team of heroes against another team of heroes, caught up in a powerful philosophical struggle on how heroes should conduct themselves. This time, it's not just Captain America or the American legal system he's up against. He's taking on Captain Marvel, who has a winning streak of her own, and the very forces that shape the future of the Marvel universe. Even with the star power of Robert Downey Jr., Tony Stark faces extreme odds.

He finally puts his vision and his winning streak on the line in Civil War II #8 for the final struggle. It has the fixings of a dramatic struggle, ripe with the same high emotions as Mark Millar's memorable narrative in the first Civil War. Unfortunately, those high emotions that worked so well for Millar end up falling much flatter with Bendis.

That's not to say that Civil War II #8 doesn't deliver in terms of drama and high emotions. Those factors are definitely in place and they do give the story plenty of weight. However, the actual mechanics of the story and the way everything gets resolved just come off as rushed and contrived. Nobody will be gasping for air or picking their jaw up off the floor with the big climax of the story here. The most anyone will probably do is shrug and sigh, but not necessarily in a bad way.

There are some powerful moments that play out here. These moments highlight the sheer strength and weight that Captain Marvel and Iron Man wield in the context of the current Marvel hierarchy. These are two of Marvel's most popular characters fighting over a conflict that Bendis made sure was every bit as balanced as the one Mark Millar molded in the first Civil War. The clash never feels like a glorified street fight or something that can be written off as a product of mind control, clones, or Skrull agents.

Captain Marvel and Iron Man are literally fighting for the future of the Marvel universe and their place in it. Over the course of that fight, it's clear that neither character harbors a seething hatred of the other. They don't insult each other. They don't engage in the kind of trash talk usually reserved for a rap battle. They carry themselves with the utmost conviction that they're right. They both believe they are the New York Yankees on the cusp of another championship.

In the end, only one can win out. Eventually, one does win out, albeit in an outcome that feels somewhat hollow. After all the high emotions that helped make Civil War II so impactful, from the first battle against a rogue Celestial to the death of Bruce Banner, the end result feels muted because the battle doesn't really resolve the main issue. In some respects, the issue resolves itself, which makes the conflict seem more trivial than it actually is.

Nothing that Captain Marvel and Iron Man do, either through fighting or through the hard choices they make, influences what happens to Ulysses. As the Inhuman who started this all, his role in the final conflict is surprisingly minimized, which really undermines the narrative. It's like Wolverine trying to win a fight without his claws. It is possible, but it lacks that a certain touch that gives the conclusion its satisfying feel.

Absent this satisfaction, the conclusion in Civil War II feels so rushed. If the conflict does affect Ulysses, it's an indirect influence at most and that influence is not really clear. Unlike the first Civil War, neither side gets a chance to really prove that their side was right. There's no way to actually put into practice all these the passionate arguments that Captain Marvel and Iron Man make throughout the conflict. They still fight, but they don't get to find out whose ideas actually win out.

Despite this lack of resolution, Civil War II still tries to establish a clear winner. It succeeds in this to some degree. It makes clear who comes out ahead and whose winning streak comes to an abrupt end. However, establishing the winner in the story doesn't necessarily explain why they're the winner in the first place. There's an argument to be made that nobody really won Civil War II. In the end, one person is still standing. That's more a technicality than a win, but it still counts. It's like a championship game ending in a tie, but one side still gets to act like a winner.

On the whole, Brian Michael Bendis and Oliver Copiel succeed on numerous levels in making Civil War II the same high-stakes, high-drama conflict as its predecessor. The heavy emotions and painful losses are there. The impact of those losses are felt. Civil War II #8 does nothing to underscore those emotions or those losses. The characters never feel insincere. There's never a sense that one of them could be a Skrull agent. The refinements are there. It's the overall resolution that's lacking.

One winning streak ends. Another winning streak continues. There are impacts, scars, and plenty of arguments to be had on message boards for years to come. In the grand scheme of things, Civil War II counts as a success. It's just not the kind of success that will make anyone less tired of superheroes fighting each other.

Final Score: 6 out of 10

Worth Within Unworthiness: The Unworthy Thor #1

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

Discussions over who is worthy and what constitutes worthiness in the first place is one of those topics that has consumed generations of Avengers fans. Go to any Avengers message board or comic book convention and chances are, there will be some people arguing what it means to be worthy, why Hulk can't lift Thor's hammer, and how someone could get around this rule.

This discussion even found its way into Avengers: Age of Ultron in a very tongue-in-cheek sort of way. It's clear that even Joss Whedon gets caught up in these discussions. He just has the resources and financial backing to turn it into a billion-dollar cinematic spectacle. Jason Aaron doesn't have those kinds of resources, but he did add a twist to the discussion when he made Thor Odinson unworthy to wield Mjolnir after the events of Original Sin.

That twist led to Jane Foster taking up the mantle of Thor. Her story is still one that is evolving in a way that continues the discussion over worthiness down a new path. However, Thor Odinson remains on a very different path and that's the path that The Unworthy Thor #1 explores. It has the feel of a story that's been brewing behind the scenes, but is only now ready to be served. It still feels late, overdue, and a little frustrating.

Despite this, it never feels stale. At a time when Jane Foster is flexing her worthiness like Namor at a beach, that's a remarkable accomplishment. Since becoming unworthy in Original Sin, Odinson carries himself less like a champion of Asgard and more like a whiny teenager who had his cell phone taken away. Aaron makes it a point to abandon that sentiment early, giving us an Odinson that is much more motivated and much less mopey.

The Unworthy Thor #1 puts Odinson right in the middle of brutal battle against the kinds of monsters he used to tear through on a boring Sunday afternoon. It doesn't just hit the ground running in terms of action, giving Oliver Copiel ample opportunity to create appropriately brutal visuals. It establishes that this former God of Thunder is learning the hard way what it means to be unworthy. He can't rely on his hammer or any enchanted weapon to carry him through a battle. He has to take a gut punches and blows to the jaw before he can think about the celebratory mead.

It's not just that he's unworthy of wielding Mjolnir. He's a weaker, more jaded Odinson who doesn't have the same power or ability he once did. He's already lost one of his arms. This means he has to fight that much harder to avoid losing more limbs. It helps bring out a different side of his character, one devoid of the nobility, poise, and bravado that once defined him. He actually resorts to biting his enemies now. That's as unworthy as it gets in battle.

Odinson definitely wields more drive and ambition. He's still not the same Thor that Chris Hemsworth did so much to bring to life in the movies, but we do see traces of that proud warrior throughout the narrative. That narrative isn't just restricted to brutal fighting with occasional biting either. Jason Aaron shifts the sequence of events around to add further context and this context actually goes a long way towards giving weight to the brutality.

Since Jane Foster picked up Mjolnir, the events of Original Sin and Secret Wars have been afterthoughts at best. There's just too much of an imperative to show why Jane Foster is so worthy of wielding the title of Thor. That's entirely understandable. It still leaves Odinson with little to work with.

By revisiting the site where he became unworthy, Aaron sets up an appropriate reunion between him and the new Watcher, who calls himself the Unseen. We still know him as Nick Fury, namely the one David Hasselhoff failed to turn into a viable movie franchise, but that only makes this connection all the more fitting. By having him be the one that gives Odinson a chance at being worthy again, it feels like an overdue continuation of the aftermath of Original Sin. Again, it's a story that feels late and overdue, but it never comes off as stale.

This sentiment helps make The Unworthy Thor #1 feel relevant in that it gives Odinson some badly-needed development that he hasn't gotten since he lost his hammer. It also makes this narrative feel somewhat disconnected and not just because Jane Foster is literally stealing his thunder. It feels like this story took too long to set up. Events like Original Sin and Secret Wars have been over for a while now. Reconnecting with those events at this point feel outdated.

Even if the timing is off, the narrative is still compelling. Jason Aaron still gives us a side of Odinson that is genuine and sincere. This is a character who lost a lot more than his favorite weapon. He lost a title and an identity. Now, he finally has the motivation and opportunity to follow a new path. This path doesn't require those same discussions of worthiness that make for such great fodder in the Avengers: Age of Ultron movie. It's uncharted territory for Odinson, but he's forging ahead and it's hard not to root for him.

Overall, The Unworthy Thor #1 creates a narrative that has the right impact. It gives us a former God of Thunder who has to fight harder and cope with being weaker than he's ever been before. It brings out some of his less noble traits, but he still carries himself like a warrior. He gets a chance to become more worthy and he jumps at that chance, if only to ensure he doesn't have to bite his enemies anymore.

Final Score: 8 out of 10

Heavy Impacts with Heavy Hearts: Civil War II #3

The following is my review of Civil War II #3, which was posted on PopMatters.com.

In major and minor wars alike, there is usually a spark that ignites the conflict. That spark doesn't always get its own documentary on the History Channel, but it often reveals the scope and scale of the conflict that unfolds. In Civil War II, the spark is lit. The conflict over Ulysses, the Inhuman who can predict the future on a level that fantasy sports fans dream of, is just starting to grow.

It's a conflict that has already claimed multiple casualties, namely War Machine and She-Hulk. So already, the scope and scale of this conflict is pretty big. Brian Michael Bendis gives both sides plenty of reasons to shoot, punch, and yell at each other. These reasons aren't petty or contrived either. This goes beyond opposing an unjust law, suspecting who may or may not be a Skrull, or falling in love with the same redhead. True to Marvel's Civil War tradition, this conflict reflects real-world conflicts in terms of justice, due process, and using precognitive powers for more than just fantasy sports.

However, the true extent of the conflict Civil War II is still developing. There isn't yet a rallying point where the lines are drawn, the teams assemble, and the property damage escalates. So far, the conflict is still Iron Man and Captain Marvel having a friendly disagreement. In Civil War II #3, there's nothing friendly about it anymore. That spark is a raging inferno now. The lines are drawn, the divisions are clear, and the outrage cannot be contained in a message board.

Bendis uses a common tactic in major crossover events, crafting the big turning point around the death of a major character. However, the tactics Bendis uses to make this death meaningful in Civil War II #3 aren't quite so common. This being Marvel's second attempt at a Civil War story, the formula requires some tweaking. It can't go too overboard either. As the last Fantastic Four movie so tragically demonstrates, this can backfire.

Bendis avoids that pitfall by framing the conflict in Civil War II in a more sophisticated manner. There's a not much emphasis on the death itself. There isn't even much emphasis on the one who causes it. Instead, Bendis explores the larger implications. Those implications help expand the conflict in a way that feels personal, profound, and dramatic.

These same implications are the fuel that raises the stakes in Civil War II. It still echoes the same conflict that begins as a simple disagreement between Iron Man and Captain Marvel. That disagreement, however, is now a war that is claiming multiple casualties. Those casualties make the difficult questions surrounding Civil War II more pressing.

These questions are repeated in Civil War II #3, but in very different circumstances and in a very different context. The content is still the same though. Is it right to punish a crime before it is committed? Even when they have a powerful tool at their disposal in Ulysses that gives them unprecedented foresight? The answers to these questions, as well as the merits of those answers, is put on trial in a semi-literal way. It may not be as exciting as the battle against the renegade Celestial in Civil War II #1, but its contribution to the narrative is every bit as meaningful.

The narrative actually alternates between the present and the past, providing details and drama to the circumstances that led to this pivotal turning point. It gets a little chaotic, but never becomes overly confusing. That's quite an accomplishment at a time when the Marvel Universe is full of time-displaced characters and characters from other universes.

The shifting timeframe also allows for some powerful moments with certain characters, especially Bruce Banner and Hawkeye. Nobody does anything with a wink and a shrug. Nobody tries to lighten the mood. There are a lot of heavy hearts and serious concerns. Even Spider-Man doesn't dare make any wisecracks, which is a major sign in and of itself.

The most important impact, in terms of the bigger picture, is how the events of this issue entrench the two opposing sides. Carol Danvers, despite being personally affected by the growing list of casualties, makes her position clear. She believes that using Ulysses' visions to save lives is justified. The heavy losses she endures don't change that. If anything, they strengthen her resolve.

These events do the same for Iron Man, albeit in the opposite direction. The loss in this issue only confirms his greatest fears. He sees punishing a crime before it is committed as a crime itself. Once again, Bendis captures the most important element of Civil War by presenting both sides as reasonable. This isn't a debate on the morality of child labor laws or free medicine for sick orphans. This is a clash in philosophies where both sides occupy a very gray area of morality.

If there are any shortcomings in this clash, it's the lack of contribution from other heroes not named Iron Man, Captain Marvel, or Hawkeye. Nearly every major superhero team in the Marvel Universe takes interest in this issue, including those with conflicting movie rights. However, their contributions and reactions aren't really explored or hinted at. Even though the battle lines are drawn, it's difficult to determine who sides with who.

That's not to say that the scope of Civil War II is underplayed. Bendis makes an effort to show just how big a story this is for everyone in the Marvel Universe. He creates the sense that this conflict is being watched at levels not seen since the OJ Simpson trial. It extends the conflict beyond superheroes because for all the public knows, they're just one Ulysses vision away from being the next Red Skull.

Civil War II #3 succeeds in the most important part of any civil war. It draws the battle lines while establishing the merits of both sides. It also ends any possibility that this disagreement between Iron Man and Captain Marvel can end without someone getting punched in the jaw. Heroes are already choosing sides. Arguments are intensifying on message boards. This conflict is bound to get ugly, but Bendis makes sure it's a meaningful, relevant kind of ugly. Anyone who can make ugly things meaningful knows they've accomplished something.

Final Score: 8 out of 10

Fittingly Effective Foresight: Civil War II #1

The following is my review of Civil War II #1, which was posted on PopMatters.com.

There's a reason why some one-hit wonders are destined to fail in any effort to recapture their initial success. As Vanilla Ice and everyone whoever did the Macarena can attest, it's easy to get burned out on something when it's overdone and overexposed. Capturing that same success is even harder than capturing lightning in a bottle a second time. At least lightning obeys the laws of nature. Those that consume media tend to scoff at those laws in ways that frustrate every marketing department that ever existed.

This same dynamic applies to major crossover events in comics. Sometimes, the time and place is right for such an event. Mark Millar's work on Civil War couldn't have come out at a better time. It was a time where issues like the Patriot Act and pre-emptive war actively shaped the mindset of the public. It's hard to determine whether the time and place is right for Civil War II, but Marvel is rolling the dice, hoping they can succeed where Vanilla Ice failed.

Civil War II #1 ignites a conflict that promises to divide Marvel's iconic heroes every bit as much as the Superhero Registration Act/Sokovia Accords. It's a conflict that, much like its predecessor, reflects real-world issues in maintaining a safe and just society. It's all built around the prospect of punishing crime before it occurs. It's an untenable concept outside of a North Korean court, but in a world where there are enough psychics to start their own baseball team, it's a legitimate issue to discuss.

Brian Michael Bendis makes it a point to make this discussion the main driving force of the narrative, but it's the spectacle built around that driving force that gives Civil War II #1 an impact that rivals its predecessor. The story doesn't actually start with the debate. It starts with a full-fledged, unambiguous triumph. It's the kind of triumph usually reserved for the end of a crossover story after every effort is made to make the heroes the underdogs. Bendis effectively flips that script in the best possible way.

A rogue Celestial invades, the heroes of the Marvel universe unite, and they win the day with less collateral damage than mild Hulk rampage. At a time when every major superhero clash incurs enough damage to bankrupt Stark Industries, this feels like a refreshing novelty. However, it's the context in which this battle occurs that gives it a unique weight.

It centers around Ulysses, a recently-formed Inhuman who has the ability to accurately see the future. He's the reason why every hero of the Marvel universe was able to effectively coordinate against a Celestial attack. He shows that with enough warning, prep time, and access to Tony Stark's credit cards, there aren't many threats that Earth's mightiest heroes can't deal with. In the grand scheme of superhero dynamics, it makes perfect sense. Many devastating attacks are built on the element of surprise. Take that away and even Thanos on his best day can't win.

It's a rarity in modern comics, the heroes being so competent and effective in their efforts. It's rare because on paper, it makes for a boring story. There's not much drama behind Superman rescuing a cat from a tree or Captain America telling children to eat their vegetables. In some respects, it's that rarity that makes this epic battle against a Celestial so impactful. It establishes just what Marvel's greatest heroes can accomplish when they have sufficient foresight, effective coordination, and no hindrances from competing movie studios.

This easy, efficient victory leads right into the dramatic debate that echoes the conflict that gives Civil War II the impact it needs to make the narrative work. Carol Danvers and Tony Stark draw the lines and establish the sides. On Carol's side, there's the idea that they should use Ulysses' power to prevent crimes from ever happening. On Tony's side, there's the idea that the punishment shouldn't come before the crime. Both sides make valid points. Both sides make passionate arguments. Both sides are sure to divide fans and inflame message boards, but for all the right reasons.

This argument captures the most important component of the original Civil War. It creates a conflict in which both sides make valid arguments. This isn't a matter of democracy versus fascism, truth versus deceit, or The Phantom Menace versus The Empire Strikes Back. There's a case to be made by both sides. By establishing this important dynamic, Civil War II #1 succeeds at achieving its most critical goal.

With this success, the foundation for the conflict is effectively set. The two opposing sides form and the stakes are established. In terms of the big picture, Civil War II #1 checks all the right boxes. In terms of the little pictures within that big picture, however, the details are lacking. Like Deadpool at a shooting range, the narrative does jump the gun in some areas.

The pacing of the story, as well as the sequence of the events, is poorly organized and disjointed at times. It made sense to rush the battle against the Celestial because of Ulysses' impact. However, the subsequent battle against Thanos that incurred major casualties lacked the necessary context. While this didn't take away from the heavy emotions and high drama, it does come off as contrived to some extent.

Despite the disorganization and inconsistencies, Civil War II #1 hits the ground running in all the right ways for all the right reasons. Brian Michael Bendis succeeds in capturing the same spirit that Mark Millar captured with the original Civil War. It doesn't try too hard to be exactly like its predecessor. It doesn't try to radically reinvent the concept either. Civil War II strikes a perfect balance between the fresh and the familiar. It succeeds where so many one-hit wonders fail. It may be too late for Vanilla Ice, but the timing is perfect for this latest Marvel spectacle.

Final Score: 8 out of 10

Through Loosely Connected Sub-plots, a Foundation Is Laid in Civil War II #0

The following is my review of Civil War II #0, which was posted on PopMatters.com.

Any college student cramming for a final exam can attest that procrastination is a common, often unavoidable aspect of human nature. We human beings simply aren't wired to be overly proactive. The caveman in us often refuses to acknowledge the danger until a stampede of wooly mammoths is charging our village at a rate that registers as a small to mid-ranged Earthquake. We try to be proactive. We understand its values and benefits. Despite this, our capacity for foresight is laughable most of the time.

In the world of superheroes, killer robots, invading aliens, and whatever Tony Stark happens to build on an off-day, the stakes are much higher than any exam. Knowing when and how Thanos will attempt to destroy the Earth and spit on its ashes is pretty important. It's the difference between needing another Helicarrier and needing a time machine.

It's a factor that has many real world parallels. Law enforcement, the military, the NSA, and annoying internet ads need a certain level of foresight to function. That's what makes Civil War II such an intriguing concept and Civil War II #0 makes it a point to belabor the importance of this concept. It's a point worth belaboring, as those same procrastinating college students are destined to find out the hard way. The conflict doesn't erupt here, but the mood is definitively established.

The method for establishing this mood in Civil War II #0 isn't necessarily concise, nor is it engaging at times. However, it still conveys the necessary sentiment through the experiences of characters like She-Hulk, War Machine, and Captain Marvel. These characters help shape the mood of the conflict before it erupts. They don't reveal anything about the characters that can't be gleaned from Wikipedia, but they do establish their current mindset within the context of Civil War II.

Through these loosely connected sub-plots, the foundation is laid. On one side, She-Hulk argues passionately for the defense of the Jester, a known villain who most card-carrying members of the Avengers wouldn't hesitate to punch. Her defense, however, is as articulate as it is relevant, both in the context of Civil War II and in the context of the real world where no self-respecting criminal calls themselves the Jester.

The crime in this case may or may not qualify as a crime. The Jester isn't charged with stealing or hurting anyone. He's charged with merely discussing it. For him, the mere act of thinking about a crime is a crime in and of itself. It is, by definition, a thought crime. In the real world, civilized societies find convicting people of such crimes untenable. Maybe it's a little more understandable in a world where telepaths like Emma Frost and Jean Grey exist, but it's still inconsistent with a basic understanding of justice.

Our world might not have telepaths, but it does reflect a real problem, as the original Civil War did a decade earlier. In the realm of justice and security, it's not always clear what constitutes an imminent threat. For some people, a threat only becomes pressing when someone is standing in a doorway dressed as a clown and carrying a knife. For others, a critical tweet constitutes a threat. The line isn't just blurred. It's a constantly shifting, often nebulous concept that rarely keeps up with the needs of society.

She-Hulk ends up losing her case, but her concept of proactive justice is very different from that of Captain Marvel. As a member of the Ultimates, who need to be exceedingly proactive when dealing with threats like Thanos and Galactus, she laments on how many close calls the Earth has had. This doesn't even count all the times retcons and time travel were necessary to save the day. She understands the need for foresight better than most non-psychic characters. Moreover, she expresses a desire to seek means of improving their foresight.

This leads to the primary catalyst for Civil War II, namely the Inhuman named Ulysses. There's really nothing special about his transformation or him as a character. He's as generic and forgettable as most civilians in the Marvel universe with no direct or indirect ties to Peter Parker. He just happens to be outside as the Terrigen Mist sweeps over his college campus. That's really all there is to this key character in Civil War II.

The drama is lacking, but the sentiment expressed by characters like She-Hulk and Captain Marvel are nicely developed. The situations are somewhat contrived, but Brian Michael Bendis does an admirable job crafting the thoughts and feelings of these characters. He sets the right tone and establishes the right mood, ensuring it's ripe for tension and conflict. Since the first Civil War inspired a movie that's on track to make a billion dollars at the box office, this is vital in terms of capturing the spirit of its predecessor.

While this spirit is present and well-developed, the overall story is lacking and disorganized. There are very few connecting threads tying the narrative together. Everything just happens separately and randomly. That's not to say the plot of Civil War II #0 is forced. It simply lacks organization and cohesion. It's the opening credits to a much larger story and not enough is done to make this necessary component of the overall narrative more engaging.

The greatest strength of Civil War II #0 is still the insight of the characters involved. This insight succeeds in the same way the premise of the original Civil War succeeded, creating an issue that has real-world parallels and major implications, especially for a fictional world where planet-eating entities are a legitimate concern. It's bland in terms of substance, but necessary with respect to context. It lacks a larger entertainment value, but such details aren't always possible for a certain narrative, Deadpool being the lone exception.

Final Score: 6 out of 10