Charmed, I'm Sure

"I recently lost my I.D.," says Doctor Donald Blake, "and it took a long time, but I finally got it back." The good doctor, who carries a cane for a limp that might just be for show, is the human host of the Mighty Thor. He speaks with Beth Sooner, the owner of a boarding house in small-town Oklahoma. She replies, "Oh, well. That's good. I just hate it when that happens."

So do comic readers. The Asgardian and his hammer Mjolnir have led an oft mucked-with career at Marvel. Though Nordic gents such as Eric Masterson and Sigurd Jarlson have been Thor's connection to Midgard (Earth) during defining eras, Blake is the original whom Stan Lee and Jack Kirby trapped in a cave with an inscribed mallet back in 1962 (it said, "Whosoever holds this hammer, if he be worthy, shall possess the power of Thor"). In 2007, writer J. Michael Straczynski and artist Olivier Coipel revived Thor after the mythical apocalypse Ragnarok wiped the Asgardians from existence.

Their run on Thor, the first six issues of which I mention here, is an embarrassment of iconic riches. The opening sequence gives us high fantasy done right, as Thor's essence delivers a cosmic elegy: "I have dreamed such dreams. I was a man dreaming I was a god. I was a god dreaming I was a man." Coipel's art, sharpened to cinematic luster by Mark Morales (the best inker working today), features huge panels that showcase Thor's allies the Warriors Three (Hogun, Fandral and Volstagg), and his love, Lady Sif.

Thor's narration, in a medieval font that elegantly complements the material, continues: "I have known the stars... I have known war. And the end of all things. And then I... And then we- went to sleep. And were no more." Communion with Blake in limbo follows. The dual identities discuss oneness, truth, and possible futures. Straczynski, already encamped firmly on that charmed middle-ground whereupon a master storyteller entertains both adults and children, then writes, "It is not for the gods to decide whether or not man exists- it is for man to decide whether or not the gods exist. And because you are important, because you are needed, your time is not yet over."

Now for some action. Thor fights barehanded through a horde of under-dwellers fresh from Cthulhu's waiting room. The prize, should he reach it, is Mjolnir. The tension Coipel invests in each panel is on par with Kirby's peak work from Journey Into Mystery. After the hammer's gripped and lightning cooks the monsters, our hero restates his desire to live, breathe and fight again.

The very next page features Blake walking along rolling green hills and an empty highway, somewhere in America. In picking up an old stick (that feels right in his hand), the doc gives a subtle impression of having just then materialized (which he did). With a wonderfully patient writing hand, Straczynski doesn't always show off. Instead, he frequently blurs his scene changes to draw readers further in.

And he does brilliantly in Thor what he did for years in Amazing Spider-Man: he makes the supporting cast real. Their meaningful exchanges with the hero are more rewarding than some hyper-quest that only serves to thump the writer's own chest. Beth Sooner, pudgy and with coke-bottle glasses, accompanies short-order cook Bill Junior and most of the rest of an entire small town in welcoming Thor back.

At first, it's a lonely return. Thor conjures a monstrous thunderstorm, out of which Asgard itself manifests. Roaming its majestic stone halls, he encounters ghosts and his own troubled mind. Then, Oklahoma police arrive, saying, "We don't want any trouble, but you can't just go putting... this... down wherever you want." Quietly, Thor acknowledges the idea of private property. Then he causes Asgard to hover above the ground. Later, when the landowner nonchalantly offers to let our hero buy the land, Thor leads him to a treasure vault. To a friend, the man replies, "Tom... back up the truck!"

A lone aspect of this story arc glares, requiring some foreknowledge of recent Marvel comics. When Thor heads out into the world, he visits the recently battered New Orleans. That no heroes stopped Hurricane Katrina from leveling the home of so many innocents galls him. Then, Iron Man shows up. He shows up to tell Thor that in his absence, a super-human civil war happened. The winners must sign up and strap on with the government. Otherwise, it's off to a mega-gulag in the Negative Zone.

The exquisitely drawn fight that ensues isn't simply because Tony Stark, Iron Man, comes off as a goose-stepping prick. It's because, in Thor's absence, he and Mr. Fantastic created a cyborg replica of the Asgardian. Which murdered a few people. And was an awful, poorly executed idea, that everyone would rather forget. Straczynski addresses it though, and reminds us that the civil war wouldn't have happened if the real Thor had been around.

This encounter between titans is awe-inspiring, regardless of context. It also puts Thor in place to find the first of many hosts for his Asgardian brethren. On a bridge in New Orleans is a broken man who's lost almost everything. He says to Thor, "...this is our town, it's our pain, it's our life, and you don't get to use it like it was some kinda movie set so you can look like a big guy!" Into this man Thor compels the essence of Heimdall, guardian of the rainbow bridge that once connected Earth to the gods' home.

The return of the Warriors Three soon follows, as Blake visits Africa with Doctors Without Borders. There, he encounters a trio of soldiers from around the world who've become inseparable. When ethnic warfare breaks out, with bullets strafing the medical area, Blake pounds his staff and becomes Thor. After smiting the gun-toting savages, he finds that the name of the village, Umeme Mungu, means "lightning god." A few revolutions of the Uru hammer later, and Hogun, Fandral and Volstagg stand in our midst once more.

But the fateful encounters quickly take a dire turn. Odin (Thor's father), Loki (his evil half-brother), and Lady Sif all need recovering... or do they? Some sagas are best reignited without the element that caused such pain the first time. Thor makes some tough choices, but not before his old enemy the Destroyer takes him by surprise.
 

I hate sports metaphors, but Straczynski hits the first issue out of the park, and then dances the bases to home plate. That his reign in Asgard was cut short to fold Thor into the Siege event is bittersweet, since it's one of Marvel's best epics, despite being loud and dumb. In a different time and place, Straczynski's slower, more savory narrative style might return in force. Then again, as Loki says: "In the end, the darkness must always overwhelm and hurl back the light."

Schrodinger's Cat and the Men Who Feed Her

Possibility, identity, and the merits of multitasking are celebrated in a trio of comics released today, August 22, 2012. I'll start with the first issue of Before Watchmen: Dr. Manhattan, because Adam Hughes' art is both impossibly refined and ecstatically delivered. Known today mainly for his sensual Catwoman and Wonder Woman covers, Hughes' sequential interior work is rather rare. He had notable runs years ago on Justice League America and Ghost, but the privilege is entirely ours to see him telling stories again.

Dr. Manhattan, of course, is the blue naked guy from Watchmen, DC's bestselling 1986 graphic novel. After a lab accident atomized his human body, Dr. Jon Osterman reconstituted himself by manipulating his own "intrinsic field." This brought him awareness of himself at every age, throughout time, simultaneously. Don't fret. This isn't a physics lesson delivered by the Blue Man Group. Writer Alan Moore's eery take on the subject makes Watchmen one of the most engaging reads comics can offer.

Here, Babylon 5 creator J. Michael Straczynski impeccably mimics Dr. Manhattan's chilly, present-tense narrative, established by Moore. With the place and time being Germany, August 14, 1938, Manhattan says, "I am nine years old. I am unwrapping a birthday present from my father. Quantum Physics," he continues, envisioning a kitten, a baseball mitt, a teddy bear, "says that as long as the box is closed, it could contain anything, in any state of existence."


Hughes' remarkable page layouts (sepia tinted by colorist Laura Martin) answer the age-old question, "Should Norman Rockwell have tried working with spray paint?" Absolutely, he should have. "The present is wrapped," Dr. Manhattan later says, watching his human self enter the intrinsic field chamber. The door then closes and locks, before destroying him. "What's inside the box?"

A question for next month. Right now, "Who is Matches Malone?" is a puzzle we can tackle by reading the third issue of Batman Incorporated. By writer Grant Morrison and artist Chris Burnham, this title pits Batman and Robin (three different Robins, actually) against a worldwide criminal syndicate called Leviathan.

The concept plays deftly to Morrison's strengths, which typically involve freakish disguises, bloody rituals, and just about anything else the cerebral Scotsman dreams up. Here, we get Bruce Wayne undercover in mob territory as Matches Malone, an info-trading weasel who dresses like something washed up from the dismal shores of 1974 (the era, in fact, of his creation). Burnham, a relative newcomer with a full-bodied, kinetic style, is the perfect artist to enliven the lunacy lurking in Morrison's mind.

Morrison himself dazzles in this issue, serving up playful slang in one crisp course after another. "I've heard a few things about you," says torch singer Lumina Lux to Malone, "but nobody prepared me for Sir Galahad." He answers, "I'm like true love and nuclear war- there's no way to prepare for Matches."

Similarly, there's little preparing for how incredible The Flash is, considering that most comics revitalized by the brilliant Geoff Johns end up shriveled on the vine (I'm looking at you, Hawkman and Justice Society). But this version of the fastest man alive, co-written by artist Francis Manapul and colorist Brian Buccellato, is an issue-for-issue masterpiece.

Manapul, once criticized publicly by writing partner Jim Shooter for weak cover art, now generates routine brilliance. Once establishing that the Flash should think as fast he moves, his writer/artists have sprinkled micro-panels throughout his world, illustrating our hero's quick moments of insight. Consistently iconic paneling also highlights the Flash's many Rogues, who frequently gang up against him (and each other). The cherry atop all of this is Buccellato's coloring, which is almost too beautiful for comics. Using subtle watercolor hues for the backgrounds, his boldly painted figures race through the Twin Cities of Keystone and Central.

This issue sees the Rogues Captain Cold and Heatwave under arrest and in armored transit. Cold's sister, the ethereal Glider, uses her phasing power to dump the police escorts and free Heatwave. Cold himself is rescued by the vigilante Pied Piper- in short, The Flash is never a dull read. Especially when Glider and Mirror Master steal a runaway monorail. I just have to wonder if Manapul would be so incredible if not made a fool of by an industry vet who should have had more class. Or maybe Shooter should run his mouth more often.