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

Heavenly Beginnings: Angela: Asgard's Assassin #1

The following is my review of Angela: Asgard’s Assassin #1, which was posted on PopMatters.com.

In this era of reboots, recons, and remakes, it often feels as though the bar for success is exceedingly low. These days, most fans will consider any remake that doesn’t dump burning napalm on their childhoods a success. It’s like every remake is a plane that’s always about to crash. It can only work if those involved can walk away alive. Even the successes, such as J. J. Abramas’ Star Trek, feel like flukes rather than accomplishments. Failures such as Michael Bay’s Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles tend to be the norm.

These are the circumstances in which Marvel had to remake Angela, a character who is not at all native to their universe. She was an established character in Spawn. She had her own history and her own place in that world. But thanks to negotiations with Todd MacFarlane’s lawyers, which may or may not have included a deal with Mephisto, Marvel gained the right and the opportunity to incorporate her into the Marvel Universe. It has taken them a while to make good on that opportunity. At times, it has taken too long. But now Angela has a place in the Marvel Universe and Angela: Asgard’s Assassin #1 makes it akin to the hot new club in town.

Make no mistake. This Angela is not the same Angela from Spawn. She has the same name. She has the same look. She has the same knack for slaying unholy monsters in ways befitting of any Angel of Death. But she is a different character. This issue attempts to build on what was established with Angela from the aftermath of Age of Ultron and Original Sin. While the results probably won’t satisfy those who enjoyed following her in Spawn, it does plenty to make her worthy of being in a universe where she can arm-wrestle Thanos and Dr. Doom.

The development of her character has been somewhat slow since Age of Ultron. It wasn’t until Original Sin that Angela established a more definitive place in the Marvel Universe, being the lost sister of Thor and raised in the Tenth Realm of Heven. This issue does build on the aftermath of this revelation. It even explores the personal impact it has on Angela. However, that impact is secondary. No matter what universe she’s in, she’s still Angela. She’ll find a way to be a badass, monster-slaying Angel of Death in any universe.

This is what brings her remote backwater portion of the universe reminiscent of Mos Eisley on Tatooine. She’s fresh off the disturbing revelations of her heritage and looking to take it out on someone. She puts herself in a perfect position to do so. She arrives with a stolen baby in her arms and plenty of angry monsters chasing after her and not the kind from Child Protective Services either. They attempt to attack her. Angela makes them wish they hadn’t. There’s absolutely nothing about her actions that’s out of character. This may even be her way of coping with the revelations of her Asgardian heritage. It’s not exactly the healthiest kind of therapy, but it works for her.

Angela’s ability and prowess in battle ends up being the central theme to the story. She does not fight the same way as She-Hulk, Black Widow, Catwoman, or Wonder Woman. She’s not some overly sexualized vixen who hides the impracticality of fighting in stiletto heels. She’s not overtly masculinized and she’s not completely devoid of sex appeal either. Angela fights with a style all her own. It’s a style that’s visceral, focused, and right at home in a universe where giant green monsters and killer robots are the norm.

This unique style helps give the story some flavor. It’s not just another case of a beautiful woman beating up monsters like a superpowered slasher movie. It gives Angela a unique appeal among male and female characters alike. And in a market flushed with powerful female characters like Storm and Captain Marvel, that in and of itself is an accomplishment. However, it isn’t just her fighting that makes Angela appealing. It’s her motivations that help her stand out and not necessarily in a heroic sort of way.

While Angela is fighting, her friend, Sera, gives a brief anecdote about why she does what she does. She may be Asgardian now, but she still sees herself as an angel. And angels in the Marvel Universe are anything by heavenly. They’re more like loan sharks and debt collectors for the mob. Angela’s motto is, “Nothing is for nothing.” Every act, including something as basic as saving a baby from a crashed spaceship, incurs a debt. And anyone who ever took out a student loan understands the dangers of debt

It sounds like the way Tony Soprano would operate and not an angel, but Angela still comes off as much more likable. Sure, she’s okay with wacking those who can’t pay, but she won’t take pleasure in it. She won’t be unreasonable about it. She’ll give others multiple chances. If they choose not to take them, then she will dish out Columbian Neckties with her sword. It’s not as cruel as it sounds, but it’s every bit as unheroic as it sounds.

This overview of how Angela operates provides great insight into her character. However, the insight does cause the story to drag considerably. Given how long and tedious it has been to get Angela to this point, it certainly tempers the impact. However, there is a major payoff in the end when it’s revealed whose baby she took and why monsters are coming after her. It leads right into a conflict that feels like a natural outgrowth from Original Sin. It feels like an investment that has finally paid off and without the need for insider trading.

There are many ways Angela can contribute to the Marvel universe. She’s shown she can be part of a team. She’s also shown she can fit into the overly convoluted history of the Marvel Universe. Now, Angela: Asgard’s Assassin #1 shows that she can hold her own and do things her way. There will still be Spawn fans that refuse to accept that, but that’s their problem. It isn’t the perfect template on which to recast an established character. At the very least, it’s a blueprint for actually making it good and not just avoiding a horrible crash.

Final Score: 8 out of 10

Scanned Thoughts: Angela Asgards Assassin #1

Beautiful redheaded women in the Marvel universe are like big-breasted blondes to Hugh Hefner. There can never be enough of them. Between Jean Grey, Black Widow, and Mary Jane Watson, I think every heterosexual man with a functioning penis would agree. So when Marvel’s lawyers pulled off a miracle with Todd MacFarlane (which I’m convinced involved someone getting blown more than once) to get the rights to Angela, I was all for it. Since she arrived at the end of Age of Ultron, her character and her whole story is being reimagined. Some have bitched and moaned about it, as they are prone to do about damn near everything.

But Marvel has found a way to incorporate Angela into their world while maintaining everything that makes her awesome. She’s a killer, badass angel of vengeance who likes to show off her washboard stomach and snap necks, often in that order. She also happens to be the sister of Thor from a previously-unknown tenth realm, but that’s beside the point. Angela is now part of the Marvel universe. Deal with it. Now she has her own series to help her find a place in that universe. Angela Asgard’s Assassin #1 is the first step in that process. After Original Sin, it’s probably not going to make her any more comfortable. However, I’m sure plenty of readers will find a reason to bitch and moan about it anyways.

As for Angela herself, she has way more legitimate reasons to complain. She just found out that she’s an Asgardian, who just happen to be the sworn enemies of angels. Now the angels who raised her hate her guts and she did plenty to make Asgardians hate her as well during Original Sin. I’m not going to say she’s completely blameless, but she certainly went out of her way to piss a lot of very powerful beings off. Maybe that’s just how she rolls. Not going to say it’s worthy of a rap video, but she’s definitely taking the hard road.

Now that shoe knows who and what she is, she’s basically off on her own. Heven hates her. Asgard hates her. So what does she do? Go out drinking with Dracula and arm wrestle the Hulk? Maybe that’s on her to-do list, but she still has shit to do. This leads her to some stereotypical mystical land that looks like a lost level in World of Warcraft. She’s carrying what looks like a baby, but it could be baby dragon for all we know. There’s some nice narration to recap what she’s gone through and how rough she’s had it lately. But this doesn’t stop her from walking right into another shit storm.

When she arrives, she’s greeted by an army of orcs that look like leftovers from Lord of the Rings. They welcome her to the Un-Town, which sounds like a bad Disney ride. She makes it clear she’s not interested in rides or waiting in line for the last Hobbit movie. She’s here looking for a friend. After all the bridges she burned and spat on in Original Sin, it’s hard to believe Angela has any friends. But she does. This one’s name is Sera. She’s like her in that she loves wearing badass armor and beating up those who think they’re stronger than her. It’s not entirely clear why Angela wanted to find her. I don’t get the impression they’re planning a spa day or something. But there is a reason for it and it’s usually safe to assume it involves something or someone that needs to be killed.

Low and behold, that’s exactly what happens. Angela reveals that she didn’t stumble across this fucked up version of an old western town on acid by accident. She was actually running from something and it wasn’t child protective services. It was actually scarier, but not as scary as the IRS. It was a horde of horse-riding demonic creatures that must have also been rejects from World of Warcraft. They apparently didn’t like Angela holding that baby and they’re not going to wait until she gets her own episode of Hardcopy to make her pay. There’s still not much in terms of details regarding this baby or why these creatures want to fight Angela. I’m assuming they don’t have a death wish, but I try to be careful with my assumptions. One accidental encounter with a transvestite hooker taught me that lesson.

Whatever their reasons, these creatures also learn the hard way it’s not smart to piss off Angela. They try to fight her and she fights back, albeit much more effectively. It’s brutal, visceral, and nicely detailed. It’s not overly bloody. It’s not overly gratuitous. It’s not even overly sexy, but it’s just sexy enough to put a smile on my face and a boner in my pants. It’s the perfect balance in that it shows the kind of fighter Angela is and what she’s capable of. She’s not the Hulk. She’s not Black Widow. She’s fucking Angela and she kicks ass her way.

As much fun as it is to see her kick ass, there are still plenty of blanks that need to be filled in here. Anybody who skipped Original Sin or is too drunk to remember it might be confused, but would probably be content to just follow one long story of her eviscerating orcs. However, this isn’t how the story unfolds. There actually is an effort to explain why Angela is doing this and it might even explain where that baby came from. For all we know, it’s still a dragon or the last discounted iPad from a Black Friday sale.

This is where Sera starts to narrate, which makes sense because Angela is busy decapitating orcs. She explains that Angela was out troving the galaxy, looking for work. I imagine she was trying to stay busy, as many often do after they’ve had a real shitty couple of days, like finding out she was the daughter of Odin. This led her to a crashed transport on some backwater alien planet that looks nothing like Tattoine. In the wreckage, she found an infant had survived. She saved it, but along the way Sera makes clear that she doesn’t do this out of the goodness of her heart. She still considers herself and angel and angels in the Marvel Universe are less about salvation and more about making the kinds of deals the mafia likes to make. Saving this child puts it in debt to her and like Joe Pesci in Casino, she intends to collect and she’s not afraid to use a baseball bat if necessary. “Nothing is for nothing,” is her motto. I’m pretty sure that’s also the motto for Goldman Sachs too.

To be fair, she demonstrates a lot more ethics than Goldman Sachs or the mafia ever does. She finds the infant a home on this world. She even tells its adopted parents who she is and makes clear that this kid is to know who she is. She just found out how much it sucks keeping secrets about an infant’s heritage. She’s going to spare this kid that torment. Like I said, she isn’t without ethics. She’s not the fucking DEA.

But eventually, a day comes when she returns to collect her debt. Angela returns to this world when she finds out her friend Sera has been taken prisoner. The infant she saved has since grown into a king. He’s not exactly a Game of Thrones caliber king and his throne is really shitty by comparison. But he comes off as fair and reasonable when he argues that Sera is guilty of crimes against his people. So even though Angela offers to forgive his debt by letting her go, he refuses. Angela begs with him. She asks him nicely multiple times. He still refuses. At that point, Angela channels her inner Joe Pesci and collects on the debt and her sword is way more effective than a baseball bat.

It’s cruel and not very heroic. But that’s part of what makes this moment so powerful. It shows that Angela does have a code of honor, but that code isn’t very honorable by some standards. She will kill those she has compassion for. She will be brutal when she has to. She’s not a big believer in altruism either. She’ll either balance out the debts or she’ll spill enough blood until the universe balances it for her. She doesn’t take sadistic pleasure in it though. She actually provided funds and resources to the kingdom to help maintain stability after the king’s death. At this point, they know to accept Angela’s terms. She is not someone they want to piss off.

Sera makes clear that this is the core of who Angela is and why she does what she does. She collects debts. She balances out imbalances. And from time to time, she shows a sense of loyalty to her friends. She’s not going to get emotional about it. She’s only ever going to get pissed when someone or something gets in their way. It’s makes her unique in how she operates. She’s not a villain. She’s not all that heroic either. Then again, the Avengers still have the Hulk on their team. So maybe the standards for heroics should be graded on a curve here.

After Sera is done recounting her history with Angela and why she does what she does, we finally get back to more immediate concerns. At this point, those concerns seem secondary. The whole flashback was like an extended halftime show of sorts. It was fun, but it kind of fucked up the rest of the football game. By now, Angela has finished maiming all the orcs. That really shouldn’t surprise anyone. Then Sera reminds her that if she was followed to the Un-Town, she’s probably being watched and not in the creepy gym-teacher-in-the-girls-locker-room sort of way.

Whoever or whatever was watching her figures out quickly that sending orcs after her ain’t going to get the job done. So instead, she gets a visit from another menacing threat. This time it’s from Thor, Sif, and the Warriors Three. That’s like going from Hydra drones to Dr. Doom’s A-team. It promises to make for a much messier and more epic battle. To this point, the story was starting to drag, having spent so much time just establishing Angela as a character. But the arrival of the Asgardians, especially after the shit storm in Original Sin, definitely gets things back on track in a way rivaled only a line of top quality blow.

But that’s not the only thing that gets the story back on track in the most awesome way possible. Remember that baby and/or dragon Angela was carrying? Well it turns out, it was actually a baby. If that sounds like a letdown, take another bong hit. That baby happens to be the new heir to Asgard. When and how this new baby was born is not explained, but that’s really not the main concern here. More than anything else, it gives Thor and all of Asgard another very good reason to battle Angela. It’s the kind of family conflict that would impress Jerry Springer himself. It couldn’t be more awesome without midget strippers being involved.

This issue, more than anything else, establishes the method to Angela’s badassery in the Marvel universe. She’s not exactly an angel. She’s not exactly an Asgardian either. She’s more like a cross between She-Hulk, Jean Grey, and Tony Soprano. She’s strong enough to take on an army of monsters and beat the everloving shit out of them with only her fists and a lousy mood. She’s loyal and compassionate to those she considers friends. But at the end of the day, she’s all about business. Owe her something and she will collect. Deny her and she will kill and she won’t hesitate. She’s not some Catwoman-level femme fatal who thinks latex and stiletto heels function as a combat uniform. She’s not some butch, barely feminine agent of destruction who appeals only to lesbians and feminazis. She does have sex appeal, but it’s not the overly overt kind found in every Victoria’s Secret catalog ever made.

Angela is very much her own character. She’s not quite a hero. She’s not quite a villain. She’s in a category all her own and that makes her both sympathetic, but just enough of a bitch to be badass. It took a while to establish this persona and this comic moved way too damn slowly at times to make readers give a damn. But in the end, it still worked. That’s why I give Angela: Asgard’s Assassin #1 an 8 out of 10. There will be some Spawn fans are still going to be pissed off. There will be some Marvel fans are going to be pissed off. But short of a gallon of morphine and extensive electro-shock therapy, I doubt these fans would ever be satisfied so fuck them. Nuff said!

Worthy of Unworthiness: Thor #1

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

The concept of being worthy is as ambiguous as the concept of being weird. In the same way the concept of being weird breaks down considerably at a Marilyn Manson concert, the concept of being worthy breaks down when the standards become skewed. Since worthiness is the main basis by which Thor is able to wield his enchanted hammer, Mjolnir, its standards are often undefined. This may or may not be on purpose because defining such an ambiguous term is like trying to nail pudding to a tree. Its very nature alone makes it impossible. But that doesn’t mean it’s completely without substance.

That substance is the driving force of the story within Thor #1. The main concept of this re-launched title was already spoiled when Marvel announced that Thor would become a woman. The nuts and bolts of this concept still need to be screwed into place. The events of Original Sin did plenty to skew the standards of worthiness, almost as much as the NSA skews the standards of legality.

With one little whisper, the contents of which remain a mystery, Thor is no longer worthy to wield Mjolnir and a good chunk of this story is spent lamenting about it. That’s not to say he acts like a child that just lost his favorite teddy bear. The very idea that he is no longer worthy is more damaging than no longer having the most awesome hammer in the universe that isn’t used to smash watermelons. It creates a tense and somewhat solemn narrative for him and the other Asgardians, who are just as confounded by Thor’s inability to lift his hammer. It calls into question their own understanding of what it means to be worthy, further adding to the ambiguity.

That ambiguity is downright frustrating at times because the concept of worthiness is now somehow so skewed that even Odin, the man responsible for using worthiness as the sole criterion for wielding Mjolnir, cannot lift it. That would be like Donald Trump not being allowed to fire anybody. It’s a major blow that sends a major message. The problem is that the ambiguity of that message limits its impact.

The only real substance offered by this new crisis of unworthiness comes from a threat that’s completely unrelated to it. While everyone else is struggling to understand what worthiness even means, Malekith launches an invasion at some underwater facility with an arm of Frost Giants. It’s as generic and plain as a threat Thor can face without including corn flakes and vanilla ice cream, but it’s a threat that creates the most meaningful impact because it demonstrates just how unworthy Thor has become.

Armed with his hammer, Thor can usually handle Malekith and Frost Giants with ease and still have plenty of energy to snuggle with Natalie Portman. This time, he might as well be fighting a pack of hungry wolves with a feather duster. He tries to compensate by attacking with an ax, but that ax is no Mjolnir. The battle isn’t too lopsided, but Thor’s unworthiness is still on full display for all to see. He’s sloppy, he’s unfocused, and he’s overmatched. He’s essentially become this year’s version of the Oakland Raiders. If he can’t handle Malekith and a few Frost Giants, then his season is as lost as the Raiders.

This is the most powerful message of the story, revealing the extent of Thor’s unworthiness. While the concept remains painfully ambiguous, it’s at least slightly clearer why Thor is no longer fit to be wielding it. If Mjolnir were a judge on American Idol, Thor would have been one of those contestants that left the stage in tears. However, this message is only powerful to the extent that the battle with Malekith forced it. The generic nature of this threat, which basically amounts to Malekith seeking something he and his Dark Elf buddies lost long ago, makes it too easy to gloss over. It still serves its purpose, but it’s still the least compelling part of this story.

The intent of this story isn’t to just shock the world into revealing that Thor is now a woman. Its purpose is to establish just how unworthy Thor and the other Asgardians have become. In this, the story succeeds, even though it does little to clarify the whole concept of unworthiness. Like the concept of weirdness, it’s one of those things that will remain forever undefined. It isn’t until the end where the woman now worthy enough to wield Mjolnir shows up and demonstrates her worthiness. But unlike Thor’s defeat, it lacks the same impact.

This woman basically acts as one of those shadowy figures that show up in every spy movie, not revealing her identity or even hinting who she might be. She just shows up on the moon, grabs the hammer, and just like that she’s Thor. It’s conveyed as one of those ongoing mysteries that won’t be resolved in the beginning. While this does offer intrigue, it doesn’t give many reasons to really care much about this character or even understand why they’re more worthy than Thor or Odin. It doesn’t even matter that she’s a woman. She could just as easily be just some random guy and it would have the same impact.

That’s not to say the impact isn’t meaningful. The mystery-woman says it herself. The world needs a Thor. It doesn’t matter if a man or woman has that title. A hammer doesn’t care which body parts its wielder has, only that it can hit the nails at the right angle. That takes away from the whole novelty of Thor now being a woman, but it doesn’t take away from the more tragic themes explored in this book. Thor struggling with his unworthiness helps make the story in Thor #1 compelling. The new woman who becomes Thor might as well be an afterthought. It might not make this story completely unworthy. But like grading a test on a curve, it still skews the concept as a whole.

Final Score: 7 out of 10

Secrets No Longer Buried: Original Sin: Thor and Loki #1

The following is my review of Original Sin: Thor and Loki #1, which was posted on PopMatters.com.

In every major conspiracy theory involving the United States government, there’s one key factor that ensures that every conspiracy inevitably fails. Simply put, human beings are terrible at keeping secrets. This holds especially true in this day and age where any major leak that can be revealed in under 140 characters is exposed with uncanny ease. Even before the age of social media, the powers that be couldn’t even cover up the Watergate scandal. And if any major power can’t cover that up, what hope do they have of covering up something bigger?

For actual gods, however, the capacity for keeping secrets is considerably greater. Gods don’t have to worry about nosy press or renegade bloggers. They have the kinds of powers that the FCC only dreams of. But the events of Original Sin have revealed that even gods aren’t immune to whistleblowers. The death of the Watcher and the revelations of his many observations have had the impact of a billion Edward Snowdens. Among those revelations include some very distressing details regarding Thor’s family life. But this isn’t one of those secrets that involve a god siring one too many demigods. This involves the kind of censorship that erased an entire realm from existence. It’s like a divine version of the Kennedy assassination, except this one actually happened.

Original Sin: Thor and Loki #1 deal directly with the impact this revelation has on Thor. The release of all the Watcher’s secrets showed him that he has a sister and that there’s a tenth realm his father never told him about. It’s the kind of revelation that has been lacking in other parts of Original Sin in that it really does shake up the entire foundation for certain characters. For most of his history, Thor’s world has been pretty solid. He knows who his parents are, who his family is, and the nature of the world they inhabit. This completely undermines all of that, setting the stage for the kind of family upheaval usually reserved for Opera.

In addition to shaking up Thor’s world, it also firmly integrates Angela’s history with the greater Marvel universe, completely detaching her from the world of Spawn. This might not sit well with some because it makes her an entirely different character on many levels, but the process laid out in this story does so in a way that still feels genuine. She’s still Angela. She still has all the same qualities and attributes. Her circumstances are simply different. The same applies to the Tenth Realm. This isn’t the world of Spawn. This is the Marvel universe and now Angela has her own unique place in it.

This also means that Angela’s origins are considerably different. Her life, and the role of Heaven, is built around war and tragedy, two themes that have often been part of Angela’s persona. On paper, it sounds outrageous that Odin would have a daughter born before Thor and an entire realm had been severed from the rest of Asgard. But as the history of this tragedy unfold, it feels appropriate and not overly contrived. The extent of this tragedy actually warrants the isolation of an entire realm and the utter censorship of Angela’s existence. Unlike the Richard Nixons of the world, it isn’t done out of paranoia or greed either. These acts were born from the pain and anger created from overwhelming loss. Odin and Freya’s heartache is palpable under the weight of the truth. They don’t come off less as gods and more as heart-broken parents.

There are so many emotional undertones throughout this striking revelation. It inspires Thor to seek out his lost sister and find the Tenth Realm, even if it means teaming up with Loki. However, some of those emotional undertones are lost in some of the ongoing side-plots involving Loki. They act as a distraction at times to the main narrative, which is the revelation about Angela and the Tenth Realm. However, this does not take away from the weight of that narrative. There are so many potential ramifications for Asgard and the Nine Realms. Thor and Loki are just beginning to explore those ramifications. What remains unclear, however, is how this fits into the greater narrative created by Original Sin.

This event as a whole has branched off into many different stories involving revelations surrounding many different characters. This has led many of the tie-in stories to become more detached from main story and Original Sin: Thor and Loki #1 is no exception. Thor literally just ditches the rest of the Avengers after he finds out about Angela and the Tenth Realm. There’s no strategy to his actions. He just leaves. While it’s understandable that he would seek to understand these revelations, it essentially takes him away from a conflict that hasn’t been resolved. It’s one thing to fight other battles in a larger conflict. It’s quite another to just ditch that run away from that conflict when things are still exploding. That’s like Peyton Manning walking out of a football game in the middle of the second quarter.

Even if this tie-in is only minimally concise with Original Sin as a whole, it certainly delivers the impact that was intended for this event. Aside from a few distractions, the events of Original Sin: Thor and Loki #1 send Thor and Loki on a path to directly confront these dark secret that have been suppressed for so long. What makes these secrets all the more remarkable is that they’re presented in a way that give no indication that Marvel only recently acquired the rights to Angela. It’s a seamless dark revelation, if ever there was one. Most revelations from powerful authorities aren’t nearly this smooth, which is only a further testament to how secrets at any level can have an impact.

Final Score: 8 out of 10

Scanned Thoughts: Original Sin #1

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Breaking Down A Prelude: Original Sin #0

The following is my review of Original Sin #0, which was posted on PopMatters.com.

Not long ago, the concept of an Issue #0 for a comic seemed about as absurd as an issue that had a decimal for a number. Yet in the past three years, Marvel and DC have done both. But beyond introducing a numbering system that’s more complex than first grade math, these issues have created an entirely new category of comic. They aren’t meant to be part of an arc. And most of the time, they have little impact on the ongoing series. It’s possible to completely skip over these issues and not miss a thing in the main series. That a relief in some ways because some series are complicated enough without decimals and the number 0 being added to the mix. But it also presents a major challenge. If these issues can be glossed over like an extra on Star Trek, how do these issues become meaningful?

The key isn’t to add more complications to the story itself. The real strength of these issues is adding some emotional weight to the impact of the larger story. That’s the task set forth in Original Sin #0. In some respects, this issue has an even greater challenge than most elaborately numbered comics. The first issue of Marvel’s big summer blockbuster has already been spoiled, not unlike a movie trailer that reveals too much too soon. Uatu the Watcher is going to die. Somebody is going to murder him and take his eyes. So him being one of the main character in Original Sin #0 is a bit of problem. It must now get people excited for this event after they already read the spoilers on a message board.

And this issue accomplishes that by making the story personal on multiple fronts. Most of these personal elements come from the perspective of Nova. His life has already been documented, but this issue takes some time to offer a brief refresher course on all things Sam Alexander. It won’t tell anyone anything they can’t find on Wikipedia, but it does help create a more personal tone for the story as a whole. That tone is somewhat lost at times in an overly generic battle against some killer robot pretending to be an Aztec God. It’s one of those concepts that’s as ridiculous as it sounds. But it does help show that Sam Alexander is still a teenage boy with a very immature mentality. Yet it’s this mentality that leads him to confront Uatu the Watcher for an overdue conversation.

That alone doesn’t sound too daunting, but a conversation with Uatu the Watcher isn’t that different from a conversation with a statue. For most of his history, Uatu has acted either as a narrator for readers or a silent witness who only occasionally makes his presence known. He fits the definition of a flat, static character to the letter and he’s supposed to be that way. He’s never presented as anything else. However, Nova’s conversation, as one-sided as it is at times, helps give the Watcher a depth that he was never supposed to have. He finally shows a little personality. It’s not much, but it’s better than a statue.

For a brief moment, Nova gets to see things from the Watchers perspective. He gets to see the breadth of the people and events he observes. He even gets to see the very mechanisms that allow the Watcher to observe the alternate worlds that make up Marvel’s colorful What If line. The meaning isn’t apparent at first and this is where the one-sided conversation gets a little complicated. For all his cosmic powers of observation, the Watcher is painfully inefficient at making his point. But he does eventually make it in a very meaningful way.

This meaning is only fully conveyed when Uatu reveals the history of the Watchers. He shows Nova what happened when his race, led by Uatu’s father, attempted to use their superior knowledge to assist a civilization. And for a time they did. That civilization flourished. But eventually, that civilization used the knowledge and technology given by the Watchers to destroy themselves. It devastates the Watchers so much that Uatu’s father proclaims that the Watchers will never interfere with the development of a civilization again. It essentially lays the foundation for the strict code of non-intervention that the Watchers must uphold. It’s no longer just an excuse. There’s a reason why Uatu only watches and it’s a pretty good reason.

It’s also a reason that has played out on a smaller scale in the real world. There’s a reason why advanced technology seems like magic to primitive minds. By not understanding technology, it’s difficult to appreciate it. By not appreciating this technology, it’s much easier to be misused. The Watchers are somewhat akin to whoever invented the ski mask. They had the best of intentions. Whether it’s helping a civilization achieve greatness or protecting peoples’ heads from bitter cold, these endeavors are noble on paper. But when their fruits are misused, the damage can be pretty bad. The burden for whoever invented the ski mask is probably hard enough, but the Watchers must deal with the burden of full blown genocide.

To further add to this burden, Uatu also reveals that no matter how many realities he uncovers, he doesn’t find any of them that show his father’s endeavor succeeding. It shows that the abuse and misuse of knowledge is akin to the law of gravity. He cannot escape it. And given the stated premise of Original Sin, it paints a more dire picture for all those involved. Nova only got a taste of what the Watcher sees and he never got a chance to misuse it. What will happen when someone has that chance?

That’s the daunting question that readers are left to ask at the end of Original Sin #0. While the details tended to drag and were sometimes obscured by Nova’s immaturity, the emotional stakes are definitely raised by this story. It may not be necessary in the overall Original Sin event, but it gives a great deal of emotional weight to the story. It’s like adding chocolate sauce to a hot fudge sundae. It may get lost in the mix, but it still improves the overall product.

Final Score: 7 out of 10