Quick Thoughts on 'Star Trek: Countdown to Darkness' #1

Hastings exclusive variant cover to Star Trek: Countdown to Darkness #1, art by Erfan Fajar. Paramount Pictures/IDW Publishing.

Hastings exclusive variant cover to Star Trek: Countdown to Darkness #1, art by Erfan Fajar. Paramount Pictures/IDW Publishing.

Although I wrote up a very spoiler-filled piece for Movies.com on the comic book prequel to the Star Trek Into Darkness film, I avoided any critique of it. Readers of that site want to know about the film and how the book might relate to the film, and don't care if I think David Messina wears his Terry Dodson influence on his sleeve.

Typically, I find Trek comics boring, though I count myself as a Trek fan, and I think I was mostly relieved to find that this comic wasn't dull. More than that, I'm so hooked by the last page reveal, that I'm definitely in for the second issue, if only to sate my curiosity as to how this all fits in with J.J. Abrams' sequel. As movie tie-ins go, Countdown to Darkness #1 is quite the little tease.

Licensed comics with recognizable likenesses are not the best showcase for an artist, as they're usually hamstrung by photo reference, but Messina does a nice enough job. Kirk looks almost boyishly young, missing some of the darkness in Chris Pine's face, but his Spock is right on (and appears more than Kirk in this first issue).

Screenwriter Robert Orci lends Mike Johnson a hand so that the book can be canonical with the Abrams version of the Star Trek universe. The set-up for this issue is strictly Star Trek 101 stuff - routine scanning turns into something unexpected, the Prime Directive is questioned - so for hardcore devotees, the real reason to pick it up is for promise of the last page. If you're not too into Star Trek, or you're only really familiar with the 2009 film, then this book does a capable job as the start to what should be an interesting space adventure.

(Star Trek: Countdown to Darkness is a four-issue limited series from IDW. The first issue is released today.)

Review: John Byrne Returns with IDW's 'The High Ways' #1

I am probably more forgiving than most for John Byrne's work. I overlook the flaws of every new project, chasing a thrill from my youth of being consistently blown away by Byrne's pencils and his imagination as a writer. Some projects come very close to that sweet spot (Dark Horse-era Next Men), but most of the time, being a Byrne fan these days feels like a solitary experience. His storytelling has reached a technical plateau that he hasn't been able to rise above (though there have been some dips below), and he hasn't had a superstar gig on a high-profile title in a very, very long time.

The High Ways #1, cover art by John Byrne. John Byrne/IDW Publishing.

The High Ways #1, cover art by John Byrne. John Byrne/IDW Publishing.

And "high-profile" doesn't have to mean something for the Big Two - Byrne's creator-owned projects have never caught on in the way that some of his peers (Frank Miller, Mike Mignola) have. So, here I sit, having just finished his latest monthly - IDW's The High Ways #1 - and I'm over-thinking Byrne's legacy as a creator, wondering what he wants people to remember him for, when all is said and done. Surely not this?

I know I'm over-thinking it because The High Ways is not a deep book, nor a particularly commercial one. It's the story of a kid named Eddie (nicknamed "Sprout") who we follow on his first interstellar job aboard what's basically a space tow truck. The freighter he's on is called out to move a ship, but it turns out to be a false alarm (maybe), and the crew is forced to stay over with strangers at a space station while the freighter refuels. Short of a last panel cliffhanger, there's not much else going on except introductions to a handful of working-class spacefarers.

And it's fine. The book is fine. And every single time I read new Byrne I want it to be more than fine; a classic - something I can praise from the rooftops, and confidently pass along to friends as a must-read, so that people will understand the impact Byrne had on the 9-year old me - and every time, I'm let down. I can praise The High Ways #1 from the level carpet of my living room. I can pass it along to some friends who don't mind their sci-fi with a slight retro bent. They won't understand why I'm a Byrne nut, but they'll probably like the book just fine. It's fine.

I can't fault for the book for what it's not; only what it is, and there's the danger in getting a fan to review something he has complicated feelings about, I can try to remain objective, try to think, "who is this book for, anyway?" but even Byrne knows that the book is for me and people like me - Byrne fans, the core he's been softballing comics to for the past twenty years.

Byrne fan or not, The High Ways #1 is an old-fashioned sci-fi comic and serviceable in every sense of the word. Bonus points for the book having not one, but two appealing black lead characters. The real test of the book's potential will be in the second issue, now that all of the character introductions are out of the way, and we can get to the meat of whatever this book is really going to be about, because, let's face it, John Byrne's Space Tow Truck Adventures is a hard-sell in a crowded marketplace. And there's gotta be more to this book than that, right? Or am I just a Byrne apologist?

(This review covers The High Ways #1. The first issue of four hits stands on Wednesday, 1/16)

Review: 'The Maxx' Creator Sam Kieth Dazzles with 'The Hollows'

It's pretty miraculous that someone with such an alternative approach to mainstream comics like Sam Kieth experienced superstar artist success. Kieth made his name with the initial arc to Neil Gaiman's ground-breaking Sandman, and went on to become part of Image's second wave of creator-owned books with his The Maxx, providing the source material for a beloved animated cult hit on MTV. His work is distorted, scratchy, at times downright sloppy, but there's a consistency of worldview that is distinctly Sam Kieth's. His characters are appealingly lumpy in form but optimistic, and the combination is weirdly comforting, as if we're being reminded that it's perfectly okay to be living in our own weird skin. We're all little odd, misshapen creatures.

The Hollows #1, cover art by Sam Kieth. Sam Kieth & Chris Ryall/IDW Publishing.

The Hollows #1, cover art by Sam Kieth. Sam Kieth & Chris Ryall/IDW Publishing.

That humanity has earmarked some of his best work (I always preferred the underrated Friends of the Maxx spin-off to the more surreal Maxx series), and it's back in fine form in IDW's The Hollows. On paper, the book sounds like almost like zombie manga - in a future version of Japan, an ecological holocaust has left the "have-nots" of the world surviving against all odds from soul-sucking zombie hordes called the Hollows, while the "haves" routinely loot the survivors from floating cities high above in colossal trees. That's the setting, but two issues in and this book is really more about the human experience than zombie panic or dystopian future-worlds.

Craig Mayerik is the central character, an inventor from the upper world who forgoes the looter-style jetpacks for a home-made set of mechanical bat wings so that he can fly down to the surface for supplies to care for his family. He's so surprised to see people on the scorched-earth surface that he promptly crashes and learns there are folks who are content to call the surface home, despite the daily horrors of their lives. Mayerik is touched by these people, and frustrated that he can't do more to help them, which leads him to his second experiment and a return trip to the surface world (one that goes far worse than the first).

The Hollows evokes the same proud sense of people fighting for the place they know as home, despite miserable circumstances, as the film Beasts of the Southern Wild (though not as overtly referencing real-life Katrina refugees). Mayerik pities them, but there's complexity in the question of whether he should pity them or not. Is it guilt from living high above or is it real empathy? After two issues, these questions provide the actual hook of the series.

The Hollows #2, cover art by Sam Kieth. Sam Kieth & Chris Ryall/IDW Publishing.

The Hollows #2, cover art by Sam Kieth. Sam Kieth & Chris Ryall/IDW Publishing.

Kieth is working with writer Chris Ryall (Zombies Vs. Robots and EIC of IDW) and the two compliment each other nicely on the book. That manga-like log-line I mentioned earlier is nothing like the final version of the comic, which reveals that the two creators are working as one seamless unit to bring this particular, unusual vision to life. One wrong writer, one different artist, and The Hollows might have become just another sci-fi riff. Once you read it, it's exactly the kind of book that you can't imagine coming from anyone else.

If you're looking for another title like Saga - an off-beat, more personal touch to sci-fi fantasy - The Hollows should definitely be on your radar. Its fantasy trappings are stronger, almost whimsical and storybook-like, but there's the same sense of unpredictability to the universe that's being created here that I really responded to well. Kieth's smudgy artwork, taken on its own, looks almost unfinished at times during the first two issues, but it just proves even more that a comic can be much more than the sum of its parts. It's imperfect, but perfect for The Hollows.

(This review is for The Hollows #1-2. The first two issues are available now.)