Grounded and Rooted: Guardians of the Galaxy #16

The following is my review of Guardians of the Galaxy #16, which was posted on PopMatters.com.

There's tends to be this understandable, but misguided sentiment that the best traits of a character only show when they're in the worst of circumstances. It's certainly the case that iconic moments in a character's legacy come from harsh, often tragic narratives. Whether it's Jean Grey's sacrifice at the end of The Dark Phoenix Saga or the Captain America's death at the conclusion of Civil War, these are powerful moments that reveal why these characters are so iconic.

These moments are memorable and all, but they often present a simplistic and incomplete insight into a character. Most comic book readers don't need to be reminded constantly of Jean Grey's propensity for dying, Superman's boundless idealism, or Deadpool's deplorable toilet humor. That's why insights into less dire moments tend to reveal other layers to these characters that often go unnoticed.

Brian Michael Bendis makes a concerted effort to craft these moments in Guardians of the Galaxy. It's a remarkable change of tone for a series that involves talking raccoons, talking trees, and blowing up a planet at least once a week. Throughout his run on this series, he highlights some of the most memorable traits of these characters. However, in the ongoing Grounded arc, he does this from a whole new angle.

For once, the Guardians aren't caught up in some exotic, cosmic struggle that requires them to outwit Thanos one week while stopping a Shi'ar civil war the next. Instead, Bendis has the Guardians stranded on Earth, a direct result of their involvement in the events of Civil War II. It basically forces the characters in Guardians of the Galaxy to find new ways to be iconic.  

Guardians of the Galaxy #16 presents the most challenging part of that process to date by putting Groot in unfamiliar, uncomfortable territory. For a character with such a limited vocabulary, but near-limitless likability, it's a challenge that requires a wholly different approach. It's one thing to flesh out a nerdy high school kid with spider powers. A giant talking tree requires a different approach, wholly unprecedented approach.

Remarkably, Bendis finds a beautifully functional approach and artist, Valerio Schiti, makes it work to the utmost. This approach involves telling Groot's story as though it were a children's story. Being a talking tree, this actually works beautifully. It's an unusual format, if only because it doesn't rely heavily on Rocket Raccoon's overuse of pseudo-profanity like "krutacking." Given the context of the story, it kind of has to be unusual and Bendis embraces this concept.

Guardians of the Galaxy #16 gives Groot a chance to be more than just the linguistically challenged muscle of the Guardians. He gets to explore a world where trees flourish, provided they aren't in the path of logging companies or a Hulk rampage. Even in big cities like New York, there are parks where Groot can fit right in. If anything, he seems more at home in a situation like this than he is in the cold vacuum of space. Being a tree, it almost makes too much sense.

Beyond the more favorable conditions, the story involves more than Groot enjoying a sunny day at the park while Rocket complains. He does get a chance to be a hero, albeit on a very basic level. This leads to a colorful and well-crafted clash with Armadillo. He's a fairly generic villain, one whose personality doesn't even match a standard Doombot, but that makes him an ideal threat for Groot. This story is intended to flesh out Groot and not a villain dumb enough to rob a bank in broad daylight. When talking trees are involved, tact is wholly unnecessary.

During this clash, we get to see Groot carry himself in a world where people aren't used to talking trees. Big green Hulks and killer robots are one thing, but talking trees really strain a population that is already a bit too used to the occasional Skrull invasion. Naturally, Groot doesn't generate many fans at first, even after he takes down Armadillo. This is where the children's book style of the story really shines.

Along the way, Groot gains an important fan in a little boy named London. This boy, who carries himself like any typical prepubescent protagonist from a Disney movie, stands up for Groot at the moment when misguided adults are still overly inclined to shoot something that may or may not be one of Dr. Doom's failed experiments. Since compassion for children tends to override a desire to shoot things, it works and Groot now has a friend.

It makes for a simple, but uplifting conclusion to the conflict. At a time when superheroes just finished fighting another Civil War and Captain America is a Hydra agent, it makes for a uniquely satisfying story. As Stephen Spielberg revealed years ago with ET, a lovable alien befriending a young boy has undeniable appeal.

That appeal may make readers feel warm and fuzzy inside, but the overly simple nature of the narrative may also limit the depth of the story. More than anything else, Guardians of the Galaxy #16 reaffirms the traits that make Groot who he is. It doesn't really add depth to those traits or provide greater insight. It's primarily a story where Groot gets to be himself and shines however he can.

This basic, but effective approach makes Guardians of the Galaxy #16 one of those issues that fans of a specific character can cite when they want to explain why a particular character is so lovable. If Vin Disel's voice acting in the movie didn't do it for some, then the story in this comic should finish the job. He may be a giant talking tree with an exceedingly limited vocabulary, but he's as lovable as any furry animal that isn't armed with a machine gun. Rocket Racoon would do well to heed his friend's example.

Final Score: 7 out of 10

Challenging Complexities Within Pure, Unambiguous Evil: Now Thanos #1

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

In the days of Saturday morning cartoons full of superheroes who tell kids to eat their vegetables, it wasn't necessary for villains to be that complex. Kids don't need character complexities on the level of Joss Whedon movie. They just need to know who the heroes get to beat up and which toys they need to beg their parents to buy for them.

Flash forward to an era in which Lex Luthor can join the Justice League and Dr. Doom can become the new Iron Man. The general trend in villains is to move away from the unapologetic, mustache-twirling evil that that leaves no room for complexity. It's no longer enough to just establish that a character is evil and needs to be punched by Captain America. That character needs depth and purpose to give context to their evil. It can make for a richer narrative, but it can also make for daunting challenges.

So if Lex Luthor and Dr. Doom can gain greater depth as characters, why not Thanos? Well, that's a loaded question because in terms of pure, unfettered evil, Thanos is the gold standard of the Marvel Universe. His history and backstory leaves very little room for depth. He bad to the bone and then some. He seeks to spread death and destruction for reasons that leave little room for complexity. There's a good reason why he's called "The Mad Titan." He's mad to a point where the traditional rules of logic and character development just don't apply.

Despite this challenge, Jeff Lemire attempts to add some complexity to Thanos' narrative in Now Thanos #1. He shows that while the challenge is not insurmountable, it does make for limited results. There is some intrigue here, albeit the kind that takes a while to develop. Those familiar with Thanos' mad, merciless history aren't going to be too surprised by the events of this issue. He shows up, he fights, he murders, and he does it the kind of cruelty that even Dr. Doom would find callous. While this is perfectly in character for Thanos, it leaves little room for complexity.

For the most part, Lemire tries to keep things fairly simple. This story doesn't try too hard to tie into the events of Civil War II, Infinity, or any other previous or ongoing event. Instead, it tries to carve a whole new narrative that takes Thanos down both familiar and unfamiliar paths. Some of those paths promise more cruel and callous murder sprees, which is basically just another typical Tuesday for Thanos. Others offer something a bit more novel.

Both those paths are structured around the return of the Black Order and Thane, Thanos' son. These are elements of Thanos' narrative that got pushed to the wayside. In some respects, that's an accomplishment. Most of the elements surrounding Thanos are either dying or already dead. It's just one of the many challenges in crafting a story around Thanos, but it's a challenge that adds substance to the story.

That story doesn't offer much in terms of complexity. Thanos returns to the Black Order, eager to murder a former associate named Corvus Glaive, who dares to lead others with more fairness and less cruelty. Thanos just can't have that. He deals with Corvus the same way he deals with Drax the Destroyer, the Avengers, or anyone else who has the audacity to continue living in his presence. Once again, his callous cruelty is on full display here. Anyone hoping to see anything less from Thanos will be disappointed, but hardly surprised.

It may not be a very compelling story in terms of depth, but it does set up an important reveal at the end that promises to shake up Thanos' callous, cruel, death-loving narrative. That reveal comes a little too late to make the earlier events more interesting, but it does create a new potential for Thanos that hasn't been present in his story for quite some time.

This also creates opportunities for characters like Thane and Starfox to be more than just another couple of characters that Thanos desperately wants to kill. While they don't contribute much in terms of stopping Thanos' latest murder spree, they do help set up some new conflicts. They're both somewhat undeveloped in terms of their role in this series, but their history with Thanos ensures they give some much-needed weight to the story.

That history is pretty much the only thing Thane and Starfox have going for them in the context of this story. They carry themselves with the same charisma as Corvus, which is to say they're somewhat forgettable. They don't say anything too memorable. They don't do anything that's too defining. Their only role is to reveal something important about Thanos. That may be an important component to the story, but only to the extent that they're glorified messengers.

While Now Thanos #1 succeeds in creating renewed intrigue around Thanos, it's still an intrigue that takes a while to develop. Other than Thanos himself, there aren't many other well-developed characters that add the complexity that Thanos' narrative needs. More than anything else, Jeff Lemire follows the formula for a Thanos story. It's full of death, destruction, and murder. Those elements are to Thanos what Captain America's shield is to Steve Rogers. They help define Thanos on a fundamental level.

Lemire gets all the fundamentals right in Now Thanos #1. He also succeeds in creating novelty and nuance, but only to the extent that he sets it up. There's not much else to give Thanos or his supporting cast the added complexity that his narrative sorely lacks. Thanos is still a long, long way from being on the same level as Victor Von Doom, Lex Luthor, or even Walter White. At the very least, this is a good first step and even for a mad titan, that's the most important step he can take.

Final Score: 6 out of 10