Review: It's a Cold Day in Hell in Dixon's 'Winterworld' #1

I only really know Chuck Dixon as one of the leanest, most efficient Batman writers of the 1990s, a man who did exceptionally good work establishing Robin as an interesting superhero separated from  Batman, and as a guy who could write a pretty mean Punisher tale. I don't know Chuck Dixon as the guy who (as he says) watched his conservative personal politics close doors on his own career; the right-wing guy with opinions on how liberalism has eroded the modern superhero. I also did not know, until after reading Winterworld #1, that the job that helped put him Dixon the map was a creator-owned post-apocalyptic survival story set on a frozen Earth.

Cover for Winterworld #1, art by Butch Guice.

This new Winterworld series from IDW (drawn by Jackson "Butch" Guice) didn't require a lot of backstory, but it ended up being good enough to make me want to seek out the previous stuff (published by Eclipse in 1987 and collected by IDW in 2011). Winterworld predates Cormac McCarthy's The Road by a couple of decades, but shares the central conceit of an adult and a pre-teen scavenging for no greater reason than to stay alive, in the face of unspeakably harsh conditions and humans-turned-savage. In this new #1, Dixon shows a lot of affection for his leads, pragmatist Scully and upbeat teenager Wynn, and though very little backstory is given, they emerge fully-formed from Dixon's own head as relatable, appealing characters thrown against impossible odds (always a winning formula).

The harsh arctic landscape is a welcome change from the typical barren deserts we're used to in post-apoc tales, which was probably what inspired Dixon to create the series in the first place (especially in the wake of the worldwide post-Mad Max mania of the 1980's and its fixation with nuclear "scorched Earth" aesthetics). Butch Guice is an inspired choice as Dixon's dance partner on the book. He's one of those artists that can make pretty much any situation feel like a hand-drawn document of reality and less like a comic book fantasy. For Winterworld, this means that you buy all of it -- from the setting to the characters who inhabit that setting -- as plausible.

Dixon must realize that he comes to the work with a certain amount of political baggage and he tries to shed it during the first issue's letter column, "I don't write my personal politics into my stories for the simple reason that I want to keep the work universal. The object is to entertain readers, not try and change their minds." A knee jerk response would automatically think Dixon is using Winterworld to dispute global warming, but the contents of the story seem to say otherwise. Dixon addresses global warming without any apparent agenda other than using it as fodder for an interesting, not-quite-sci-fi story.

The timing of Winterworld #1 is unfortunate, since Dixon was somewhat vilified last week for his Wall Street Journal piece on what he perceives to be a decline in conservative values within mainstream superhero books, but don't let that column get in the way of a book you might enjoy. Winterworld #1 is attractive, muscular pulp that makes a strong first impression, even amidst a sea of comics about the end of the world as we know it.

Winterworld #1 hits stands Wednesday, June 18. The Amazon link below is for the original 1987 Winterworld collection, containing #1-3 of the original Eclipse series as well as two issues of its unpublished sequel, Wintersea.

Advance Review: Is 'Harlan Ellison's The City on the Edge of Forever' Different Enough?

I like "The City on the Edge of Forever" a lot. It's one of the best episodes of classic Star Trek, and I've found that because of its human drama, mostly free of the cliches one might associate with Trek, it makes a great introductory episode for people who think they might not like the original series. Because I like it a lot, I've never had much interest in the complaints of its author, Harlan Ellison, who's been railing against the changes made to his teleplay since the episode first aired in 1967. Not to take anything away from Mr. Ellison, but no matter what his intent was, the episode works very well as is.

Cover detail for #1, art by Juan Ortiz. Paramount/IDW.

IDW's comic book adaptation of Ellison's original version of the story (from writers Scott and David Tipton and painter J.K. Woodward) arrives as a five-issue mini-series, which is about as close as we'll ever get to seeing what his unaltered episode would've looked like had it aired. Many interested readers will be approaching this comic already armed with the knowledge of the differences in Ellison's original plotting. Others, like myself, will read it as a comparison piece to the television episode, unable to turn off our memories of the events that were re-written for TV by Trek's staff of writers. Very few will pick up this first issue with a fresh pair of eyes.

For those virgin readers, I wonder if there's enough substance in the first issue to get them to come back for more (and part of me wonders why this ended up chopped into a comic book mini-series instead of released a single impressive graphic novel). Beckwith, a drug-dealing Enterprise crew member, is barely a character as Ellison presents him, so when Beckwith jumps through a time portal to escape punishment from his superior officers, there's no investment from the reader. On paper, the reason to care is that he might alter time through his desperate act, but considering we barely know him and the core crew (Kirk, Spock, and Rand) barely know anything about the portal he jumped through, the whole event lacks drama as a first-issue cliffhanger. Things that feel like they need more time to cook (Beckwith's relationships, motivations, and actions) get a minimal number of panels in exchange for very deliberate hand-holding about how time travel works, across several pages.

For familiar readers, this comic only feels like a curio piece. The biggest divergence in this first issue is Beckwith as the catalyst for events instead of the temporarily insane Dr. McCoy as seen on TV. I always found that McCoy plot point a little odd (but no more odd than a lot of odd Trek plot points), and in concept, I like Ellison's idea of a guy on the lam leading Kirk and Spock to jump into the time steam. It's not very "Roddenberry" of Ellison to kick off the story with a drug-dealing murderous red shirt, and I have to think that was at least part of the reason the teleplay was altered to have McCoy accidentally drug himself and go nuts. In execution, Beckwith is a non-character in this first issue, defined only by the criminal actions needed to get the plot from point A to point B.

More impressive is the City on the Edge of Forever itself, unrestrained by CBS television budgets, and showcased here as a cavernous, otherworldly, crystalline monument watched over by ethereal 30-feet tall guardians. If this was Ellison's original vision for this scene, it would've been near-impossible to execute with the effects of the time, and it lets Woodward stretch his legs with the art more than trying to replicate specific likenesses and sets.

I'll admit that it may be unfair to discuss this comic in a monthly, single-issue form, but this is the way the book is being delivered, so here we are. I suspect that only the most die hard Star Trek fans (funnily enough, the ones who already know exactly what's going to happen) are going to be willing to pick up this single story in chopped-up monthly bits. I'd hope the final, completed work would allow for a more thoughtful critique and examination because, as is, there's just not enough story in this little sliver, no matter how different it is from the original.

Review: 'Knuckleheads' #6 Waises the Woof

An issue of Knuckleheads costs less than a 20oz soda. That should be enough to get you to give it a go, no matter what the rest of my review says. I can guarantee you that you've spent more on comics that are far, far worse than this. How many issues of Spawn did you buy out of obligation before you dropped it from your monthly pulls? Exactly. Knuckleheads is about as close to "no risk" as comics come.

Click to purchase on Comixology.

Do you like to laugh? Of course you don't. Like I said, you used to read Spawn. But if you're willing to give laughing another shot, you might want to give Knuckleheads a try. If you don't laugh, it's digital, so you don't even have to worry about giving the comic away to some little kid who likes baby ha-ha comics. Like I said, no risk.

Knuckleheads #6 makes a good jumping-on point, with Trevor Trevinski exploring the extent of his cosmic powers -- and learning an amazing new ability! -- while his pals (well, one pal and two near-strangers who've gotten sucked in to Trevor's world over the course of the first five issues) capture it all on an iPhone. The set-up in the previous issues is that Trevor is the possessor of the Crystal Fist, an artifact resembling brass knuckles but made from otherworldly crystal. As a person, he's a half-assed superhero, but the actual power of the Crystal Fist makes up the other half for him (most of the time). In his earliest outings, Trevor fights a giant reptilian monster then armed rednecks -- clearly writer Brian Winkeler knows how to raise the stakes.

Artist Robert Wilson IV is a deft cartoonist with a sly sense of timing (and Jordan Boyd's colors make Knuckleheads look like a book that should cost more than one dollar). I especially appreciate that everyone has different, distinct faces to go with their personalities -- hey, just like in real life! (It sounds like a given, but you'd be surprised how many artists don't do this.) There's a two-page gag in #6 that's especially clever, and I hope there are more jokes that depend on visual storytelling as the comic continues to strengthen.

That's something else Knuckleheads does besides "be funny." It gets better with every issue. Let's say you don't read Spawn. Maybe you read books like Superior Foes of Spider-Man or Hawkeye or even the DeMatties/Giffen run of Justice League. If that's the case, then Knuckleheads should be an easy sell. This is totally in your wheelhouse. It's digital, so you don't even have to worry about some little kid who likes baby ha-ha comics stealing your precious Knuckleheads collection. (Unless you buy it collected in print, available July 22! I can't help you then. Good luck.)

Panel from Knuckleheads #6, art by Robert Wilson IV. Winkeler & Wilson IV/Monkeybrain.

My First Comics: The Whitman 3-Packs

Most of the time, I'll have very specific issues to discuss, but this entry is a little more free form, mostly because I have no idea which issues I had -- I just know the Whitman 3-packs were a huge part of my comic book upbringing. These were sold at pharmacies and grocery stores and such and contained three comics, usually based on familiar cartoons, but sometimes containing some of the Gold Key heroes, in a clear plastic bag. (I know I discovered Doctor Solar: Man of the Atom this way, and I also had my first exposure to horror comics, Grimm's Ghost Stories, which I couldn't give away fast enough. I was a real scaredy-cat as a child.) You could only see two of the comics in the 3-pack, and a savvy kid would try to squish the other two comics around in the bag to catch a glimpse of whatever title was sandwiched in the middle. These 3-packs were mainly purchased for me as a treat meant to last me through a couple of days of something, often weekend trips to my grandparents' house.

Example of the Whitman 3-Pack of comics.

I vastly preferred the comfort of characters I already knew and loved from television to the low-rent Solar, and the Whitman books I liked the most were Popeye the Sailor, Woody Woodpecker, and Road Runner. There's a particular Popeye issue that stands out to me, as it focused primarily on short order cook Rough House (I liked -- and still like -- stories that expound on underused supporting cast members), but I wouldn't even begin to know how to track that one down. I have no such lasting memories of Woody Woodpecker or Road Runner other than general warm fuzzies. Looking at them now, they all seem pretty disposable, apart from my nostalgia for them.

So why mention them here if I can't get specific? I snagged some of these 1960s Dell funny animal books at Dallas Comic-Con recently (content that ended up being reprinted by Whitman during my childhood) and was just caught up in a wave of nostalgia that saw me chasing down a couple issues of Whitman's Popeye the Sailor at a local Half Price Books. Until getting my hands on them again, I'd forgotten what a part of my earliest comic book reading they were, and how important the books were to my own drawing ability. I taught myself to draw duck bills and pants with belts from these trifling books. I'm still more comfortable drawing in the "funny animal" realm than the superhero one and I can clearly remember studying the panels with these characters in a way that their appearances on television did not allow.

Through reconnecting with these books, I also discovered that my inclusive comic book tastes are something that I've had my entire life. I like comics as a storytelling delivery format, and I'm down to try most anything. This openness had to have been created by having stiff-legged  DC stuff alongside kiddie Whitman stuff alongside action-packed Marvel stuff in my formative collection. It was just comics, as far as I was concerned. In my young eyes, it was all a treat.

Podcasts: Traversing the Digital Comics Landscape in 'The Passionate Task'

So, we've got host Moises Chiullan, who wrote a thorough piece on the Comixology/Amazon deal and was linked everywhere because of it. We've got Merlin Mann, tech podcasting celebrity and a digital comics reader. We've got Rich Stevens, comic creator (Diesel Sweeties) and seller of obscene ice scrapers. And we've got me, a dude with a Kindle Fire HD and opinions about things like "guided view" and "prices." Put all of us together, turn on a topic (in this case the shifting digital comics landscape), and glide us gently into your earholes. After we wonder what the future looks like, we talk about what our present looks like -- offering up some must-read comic suggestions.

You can listen here or subscribe to the Giant Size channel via iTunes.

CW Unleashes First Full Trailer for 'The Flash'

Things I appreciate: The fact that Barry Allen smiles easily and often. The immediate introduction of a Rogue (Weather Wizard!). Professor Zoom. That it looks more movie-big than TV-small. The fact that they're openly embracing the character as a superhero (like the 90's TV show did) and not trying to dance around it in the name of realism.

Things I want: All the Rogues! Max Mercury! Jesse Quick! Jay Garrick! Kobra! Grodd! Impulse! Wally! EVERYTHING! ALL OF IT!!!

*ahem*

Check out the trailer above. I don't watch Arrow, but I'd watch this.