Onslaught Reborn #5 (of 5)
Written by Jeph Loeb
Art by Rob Liefeld
Marvel Comics, 2008
I considered many opening lines for this review: “It’s amazing when a book that looks this bad is so delayed;” “Jeff Loeb has lost all remaining good faith from his ten-year-old Batman stories;” “I hope no one ever follows up on this story;” “Why is Reed Richards screaming in every panel? He doesn’t have to make his mouth big to talk.” “Why, god? Why?”
Instead, I copped out and used all of them.
Rob Liefeld is only good at drawing muscles. He can’t place them in relation to a larger body or head; he can’t place them in a background. His jaws are ridiculous. In many panels it looks as if Wolverine could start eating his own sideburns, and to top this all off, his art looks amazingly rushed, like he didn’t really have time to ink so he scanned in his pencils and turned up the contrast instead. The lines look unfinished, and not in any good sort of way. It looks lazy.
Jeph Loeb needs to learn when to stop moving his pen and deliver an ending. When it comes to character catch-phrases, less is more. Dan Slott was able to write a whole Thing solo series without having to resort to the Thing using tough-guy Brooklyn phrases that haven’t been used in 30 years. Also, when you build up for a big fight for four issues, it should last longer than four pages.
And hey, Marvel, please don’t let any writer follow up on the last two pages of this book. We should never, ever see Onslaught again (not even on the 50th anniversary of the character) or the female Buckey ever again. Her character was the worst part of Dark Knight Returns, and at least there she was original. Plus, we already have a way better Buckey.
Ghost Rider #19
Written by Daniel Way
Art by Javier Saltares and Tom Palmer
Marvel Comics, 2008
I’m really sick, so this is going to be a quick one. This issue of Ghost Rider is not very good, not very good at all. Daniel Way resorts to every lame stereotype possible to avoid actual characterization. His cops are rude idiots and his prostitute has a heart of gold. The dialogue approaches painful levels, such as a scene which actually includes a “no I’m not,” “yes you are” argument. The art is fine, I guess, if a little washed out for my liking. Really, though, the best compliment I can give to this book is that it didn’t take me much more than five minutes to read