The Legacy of DC's Advanced Dungeons & Dragons

I used to play Advanced Dungeons & Dragons quite a bit.  With that in mind, back in the late 1980s when I heard DC was doing a comic based on the role playing game, I immediately put it on my pull list.  How could I not?  How could any player who was also into comics not want to read this title?  There was a genuine air of excitement around it, and the wait for the first issue to arrive was a bit maddening.  In the days before the Internet made it commonplace to ruin any surprises, the speculation of what the comic would be like was the topic of many conversations.  And then it arrived.

The cover of that initial issue looked promising.  It was a group shot of the comic’s cast of characters with a hint of the evil they would face, and anyone who played the game and saw it on the rack would be intrigued by it.  The story, however, was fairly standard fantasy stuff … which was all it really needed to be.  Granted, it was cool to see some of the spells and monsters from the game brought to “life,” but the setting could have been any fantasy realm as most are fairly interchangeable.  Fantasy comics at that time were limited, as well, so genre fans grabbed whatever they could get their pale, trembling hands on, and this series was no exception.  It had a built-in audience from the start, a fact I’m sure wasn’t lost on DC.  It was guaranteed sales (at least for a while) regardless of quality, and the comic franchise did something no other work of entertainment has done since.  More on that in a bit.

I bought all the issues in the DC series, and several of the other associated titles, all of which varied in content.  (Spelljammer was not a favorite of mine, though I had friends swear by its superiority to any other title on the market at the time.)  Once the Advanced Dungeons & Dragons series folded thirtysome issues later, there was a lull before other publishers brought the franchise back to life in the comic world … all with mixed results.  Few of the titles managed to spark fan’s excitement like that first DC series, though.  Many of those companies should have never tried, either, as that initial series was never really all that special anyway.  As a matter of fact, I can’t remember a single character or storyline from it.  I actually remember some of the Hardy Boys stories I read as a boy far better than those issues.  Memorable?  It’s the exact opposite, and nothing since that DC run has really caught fire, either.

I haven’t revisited the title since I read that last issue, but every once in a while I think about breaking it out to see if I could get anything new from it.  I fear, however, with tastes that have changed over the years, the flaws I casually overlooked before would become glaring nightmares this time around and ruin even my sparse nostalgic memories of the title.  I’ll go back to it eventually, though, if only to satisfy my curiosity.  After all, waiting 12 years between thereadings of Origin changed my view ofthat series for the better, though I doubt re-reading this one will give mesimilar results.  What that means for the game that inspired it, however, is something totally different.

Advanced Dungeons & Dragons really only failed as a comic book series because the game was impossible to live up to.  Anyone who has played the game knows that you are only really limited by your imagination.  Readers of the comics were limited by the creators’ imagination, and sometimes that imagination wasn’t all that strong.  While the concept of a comic based on the game seemed promising at first, it didn’t take long to see that everything which made the game special could in no way be transferred to a static comic book series because it lacked one simple thing: the players.

There is not a single one of those series that could stand as a testament to the game from which they sprang.  They do, however, prove that unlike other games, it isn’t the mechanics that makes it stand out, it’s the players.  I can’t think of another instance in any crossover media where such a thing has happened.  Sure, sometimes a movie adapted from a book makes moviegoers say the book was more in-depth and therefore better, but when else has an audience been credited with making the work special?  Never, and that’s what makes these various series such an anomaly in the realm of entertainment.  Their mediocrity proves the superiority of its source inspiration, and that is something players should be proud of.  

Origin

In 2001 I was working as the manager of a comic book store in Eureka, California.  One of the biggest events of the year was the release of Origin, a six-issue limited series written by Paul Jenkins, Joe Quesada, and Bill Jemas; and with art by Andy Kubert.  It was an event simply because the series was going to tell the story of how one of the most popular comic book characters, Wolverine, came to be.  To say most of the customers were talking about it is an understatement.

There had been hints of Wolverine’s past in previous stories.  Often times these were red herrings or contradicted one another.  Each dropped clue kept the mystery and speculation alive, however, and they kept fans talking and guessing.  With that in mind, I wondered why Marvel, the publisher of this series, was even bothering to tell the story, as it was a tale that didn’t really need to be told.

Wolverine sold titles.  His solo title sold, and any book he was in sold.  Wolverine fans would buy his books no matter what, so to do a series that would put an end to some of the mystery seemed almost counterproductive.  In that sense, like the Star Wars prequels, it could only fail in its attempts.

My first reading of the series left me disappointed.  It had gothic sensibilities and horrific moments, sometimes actually feeling like a Hammer horror film back in the 1960s and 1970s.  Far from the anti-hero of Chris Claremont’s heyday on the Uncanny X-Men, Wolverine, the boy, was a pathetic, tragic figure who slowly transformed into the hybrid beast of a man readers knew and loved.  It made dramatic sense, however, and it also made his rise to the samurai-inspired, bloodthirsty savage even more poignant, but something about the story felt decidedly lackluster.  As it transpired in those six issues, Wolverine’s rise to power was more situational than anything else.  He was an accidental hero, though those heroics were barely seen in the series.

Then a funny thing happened.  I decided to revisit the story recently, and was actually most pleased by what I read.

When Origin is left to simmer away from the hype of telling the Wolverine origin story, it actually gains strength.  It is no longer the let-down it had originally been simply because it is removed from anticipation.  Many die-hard Wolverine fans complained to me that the character didn’t start out kicking butt, but instead was sickly and quick to cry.  It was a blasphemy, and it didn’t jibe with what they knew.  That wasn’t the problem I had reading the series for the first time, however.  Instead, I found the story to be far too boring.  Sometimes it took too long to make its point, and at other times it was too heavy-handed.  Time changed that, though.  Removing the story from the constant hype and checkout counter criticism has shown that despite its flaws (those very obvious references to the character’s future that have all the subtlety of being hit in the face with a mallet), it was a rather well-crafted bit of characterization that worked.  What seemed lackluster on the first reading, now feels like a masterful stroke of storytelling.

There are some outstanding Wolverine stories out there.  Comic book legends like Frank Miller (Sin City) and Mark Millar (Kick-Ass) have contributed tales that are above and beyond Jenkins and company’s work, but that doesn’t mean Origin should be dismissed for what it attempted.  To answer my earlier question of why it was even written in the first place, the tale was created because Marvel feared that if it didn’t tell the story of how Wolverine came to be, Hollywood would do so, and once that cat was out of the bag Marvel would have a hard time reclaiming the character if purely on an ideological level.  No amount of great talent could save that story if Hollywood, with all its entertainment-by-demographics, got its hands on it first.  The creators Marvel assigned to do it had to know they were playing with fire, and were going to most likely disappoint people artistically, all while realizing sales would be through the roof regardless.  It was, by and large, a bold move of them to create the story they did, and they did it far better than Hollywood would have done if given the chance.  Marvel set the standard, and then Hollywood tried to tell its own version in X-Men Origins: Wolverine, which borrowed from the comic series and added its own bit of misery to it.  Marvel, which has only been helped by the silver screen as of late, beat the beast at its own game.

Ironically, Marvel, in a fairly standard Hollywood-like move, has its own sequel to the comic due out soon.  Will lightning strike twice?  I seriously doubt it, but I’d love to be surprised … again.

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Legacy

I have never been a fan of Superman, but I always liked Action Comics … at least I did until the latest revamp.  I started buying the issues in the ‘70s, when Superman was king, but why was I purchasing those issues if I wasn’t a Superman fan?  Legacy and history.  Each issue had a sense of both of those things with their high numbers and referencing of material from years before.  Action Comics and many other titles gave readers a sense of their place in history and the feeling that they were stepping into something that had been going on for decades before them and, as logic would figure, would continue decades after they left.  The series title may have been plain.  The hero and his stories tired.  All that was forgiven, however, for the comic’s legendary place in history.

Most of that comic’s history and legacy seems to be lost now with DC’s rebooting, revamping and renumbering every title that matters (and many that don’t).  Some say it’s because people only want “new” things.  Others say the history I so loved so much was too confusing for new readers (something I never had a problem comprehending as a new reader).  The truth, I believe, is much simpler and far more appalling. 

DC is a greedy bastard.

I believe the real reason companies like Marvel and DC do this is because it makes the news and gets people like me to write about it.  The companies figure they’ll lose older readers (for a little while), but gain so many new ones in their place that it will be worth it to tank a title.  Everything is sacrificed for the dollar.

I can’t complain too much, though.  Today’s stories are better and more mature than the tales that spawned them.  Creators are taking real chances with the characters, and while not all have paid off, most are at least interesting.  It is, above everything else, a really good time to be a comic book fan.   Yes, the artform may have lost that spirit that attracted me to it in the ‘70s, but it gained something new.  It gained vision and a renewed sense of daring.  No longer resting on its laurels, the comic book industry is doing everything it can to attract new readers and make exciting stories, and I have to admit, we’re all better off for it.

I may miss those things that drew me to Action Comics, but I finally believe that the industry may be doing the right thing after all.  Part of me mourns the past, but another is fairly certain that this move by the comic companies solidifies their future and without that all we have is the past.  I can’t believe I’ve actually written that, but I have to admit: DC and Marvel may be right. 

Greed isn’t only good in this case … it is survival.  That said, I haven’t read any of the new Action Comics and I don’t intend to anytime soon.   The title was all about legacy and history to me.  Without that it is just another comic book with a character I don’t care about, and there’s no reason for me to start caring now.

The Trouble With CrossGen

CrossGen was a comic book company that bit off far more than it could chew.  Many people, including the owner of the store where I worked (Comic Castle) during the time the company started, thought CrossGen was going places and would give Marvel and DC a run for its money.  Its “innovative” titles and programs would boost the comics industry and help get it out of its slump … or so it seemed.  I was less-than-enthusiastic because I had seen far too many companies as bold or bolder come and go just because they got too bold too quickly, and looking at the press release material made it obvious this comic was not going to produce characters as interesting or memorable as Wolverine, Raven or Marshal Law.  As it was, I stayed away from the CrossGen titles.  Not only did it seem like the company would go under fairly quickly, but the titles themselves came across as mediocre, though you couldn’t say that to the company’s fans.  There was one title that looked like it could be an exception, however.

Abadazad.

That comic, from the description in Previews, held promise for me.  I think a lot of it had to do with the artist, Mike Ploog.  I’m a fan of his work, and this project sounded right up his alley.  The first issue came out and I have to admit I was disappointed.  The cover was horrible, and looked worse holding it than it did in the publicity material.  It wasn’t that it was poorly drawn; it repulsed me because I so dislike characters who are nothing but head, though I think M.O.D.O.K. is pretty cool for some reason.

I put aside my disgust and delved into the first issue, eager to see if it would live up to my expectations.  It didn’t.  Not even close.  I could tell it had potential.  I could see that it would possibly get better.  I quickly put it back on the shelf, though, convinced the company would go under soon enough, which meant I wasn’t going to put any effort into what I viewed as a doomed series that started off on the wrong foot. 

Two more issues were published and then Crossgen bit the dust.  Yes, it was later bought by Disney, and Abadazad became a series of children’s books that also never lived up to their full potential and then those were also scrapped.

CrossGen was an example of a company gone wrong.  Its intentions were pure and good.  The then-owner of Comic Castle bought into the hype full-bore and ordered a lot of CrossGen material on nothing more than a wing and a prayer and a belief that the stuff would sell, and when I left my employment there, we were still sitting on a majority of it.  The comics sold, but never at gangbuster numbers, and the trades languished – especially when they changed formats.  Abadazad was a prime example of one of the reasons I think the company never caught on: its books seemed good, but the execution was flawed.  It’s the story of CrossGen, and it’s the story of far too many new comic companies.  And it will happen again and again.  If only that cover were a little less creepy …


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Revisiting Wolverine and the X-Men

My first take on Wolverine and the X-Men was less than positive.  I was not impressed by the first issue at all, but I stuck with it.  I'm reading the Avengers Vs. X-Men stuff now, and I have to say that the title has done nothing but improve.

If I have any complaint about the series it is one that is common to far too many comics these days: the art is sometimes hard to follow.  Extreme close-ups of action sequences do not "put you in the action," they confuse the reader and make it hard to follow the story.  The issue with Beast in outer space really hammered that home.  I don't want to pick on one artist for this because it is an issue with many artists, but if you are guilty of it -- stop.

There are moments in this new series that make that complaint easier to tolerate, however.  Wolverine's take on Hope.  Krakoa.  Genesis.  Kitty's "pregnancy."  Space gambling.  In some cases this title is starting to feel more like the Uncanny X-men of old.  The types of stories the series is doing seems unlikely to change now, too, with the series becoming part of the Marvel Now! lineup.  That is good news.  The bad news?  It's part of the Marvel Now! lineup, which feels like a limp attempt to cash in on DC's new fame.  What does that mean?  For now nothing, but it does make me wonder what will happen when the inevitable killing off of titles occurs.  Will sales be strong enough to keep this one going?  Only time will tell.  Until that happens, however, I'm going to continue with the title ... unless it reverts back to its first issue shenanigans.

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Cover Review: Strikeforce: Morituri #22

What I'm about to write bears no judgment on Strikeforce: Morituri as a series.  It has nothing to do with the planet I live on facing some kind of meteor threat.  It has everything to do with the testicles the creature is wearing on his(?) face.

I get the idea that a comic book cover is meant to sell a story.  It's there to grab someone's attention.  It's there to entice a new reader or suck back in someone who let the series go.  Sometimes a cover will target a certain demographic.  Thirteen-year-old boys like big-chested women wearing next to nothing.  Intellectually stunted emo girls like a weepy looking guy.  What demographic, pray tell, is drawn to alien men(?) with testicles growing off their faces?  Not even the most testicle-fixated man or woman could view this cover and think, "I have to buy this."

There is nothing else about the cover that looks vaguely sexual.  There are not strange vagina-like plants.  No woman eating a banana or dribbling milk down her chin.  There isn't a man holding a log in a strange place while a boy looks on in excitement.  None of that.  Testicle Chin stands alone as the cover's high weirdness.  I wonder how many issues this sold beyond the title's core readers?  My guess is very few.

At least we should be thankful Testicle Chin wasn't starting to grow a beard.

Mark Waid's Daredevil

I have been a fan of Daredevil since the 1970s.  Since the character's inception, Daredevil (Matt Murdock, lawyer) has gone through many changes.  He's been carefree and wisecracking, he's been dark and brooding, and he's gone insane.  Of all the superhero characters I can think of, his is the one that has been written with the most depth.  His love of women has led to him being labeled a bit of a womanizer, but as witnessed when the women closest to him die, he has troubles dealing with the losses.  His friends and allies constantly question his mental stability, and his fellow heroes have grown to distrust him.  His civilian identity has been learned by his greatest nemesis, sold out by a female he once loved who got hooked on drugs and turned to porn.  This was his first break with reality.  Decades later, his civilian identity was revealed to the world, and this led to yet another series of downward spirals in Daredevil's life. 

For Daredevil fans, it has been a hell of a ride.  And now the character has come back full circle with writer Mark Waid taking over the title in 2011.  Many fans and critics agree: The title has never been better.

I had to admit I was hesitant to embrace the new old Daredevil.  Gone was the depression and insanity.  Gone was Daredevil tossing villians out third story windows.  Instead, all this was replaced with a hero who cracked jokes and seemed to be having fun with his life.  He was rebuilding.  He was mending bridges.  He was getting to do the things most people would want to do with their lives had they had the chance to do it again.

I started reading the new series, unconvinced I would like it.  Daredevil was deep.  Yes, he started out as a fairly standard hero, but along the way he had grown.  He had a foundation in religion (fairly rare in comics), he had known insanity, he had tortured.  Taking him back to square one seemed not only like a bad idea, but also it felt unrealistic.  I know the idea of having realism in a comic seems ridiculous, but the best stories and characters have a basis in realism, and Waid making the character a blind Spider-Man felt wrong to me.  I read it with an open mind, however, and I was pleased.  Very pleased.

Yes, Daredevil is more upbeat, but the past hasn't been forgotten.  This new variant on Murdock feels real.  It seems like he is trying to make his life better.  He is enjoying every moment, but ... there is something underneath it.  The insanity still comes up when people think of him.  He can't dodge the past with the outing of his civilian identity.  And you get the idea that this could end for him at any moment and in a really big way.  Sure, the original Daredevil is back, but all the stuff that happened between then and now is still there, and that somehow makes this take on the character not only more tenenous, but also more dangerous.  If it all falls apart now, after he's tried to get his life back on track, it could ruin him permanently.  Marvel would not let the character just fade away, but if handled improperly after something like that which could happen, readers would leave.  Waid has advanced the story, advanced the character, and has advanced the readers' expectations of what they can expect in the character.  That's what a good writer does.

Waid won't write this character forever.  I'm a bit behind on the title, so he could even be gone by now.  What I do feel justified in saying, though, is that when he leaves the title, his name will be up there with the other great writers on the series.  Miller.  Bendis.  Brubaker.  Smith.  Diggle.  Waid.  This skeptic has been cured.