Tag Archives: DC Comics

Never Send a Woman to Do a Woman’s Job: Justice League Task Force #7 & 8 by Emily Scott

Greetings, Legions of the Unspoken! With the holidays and the general life-iness of life, it’s been a while since we met like this, hasn’t it? (Every way I try to say this makes me feel like Mr. Rogers.) Fear not, though, since it’s time once again to take a look into another comic book from that most misunderstood decade. We’ll get right back in the swing of things with a fun two-issue story, Justice League Task Force #7 and #8.

There is no other way to summarize this comic than to say it’s the one where Martian Manhunter turns into a hot chick. Sure, other things happens, but if this were a Friends episode, it would definitely be called The One Where J’onn Is J’oan. (Considering this is a 90s comic website, I feel it’s only fitting and, more importantly, more amusing to keep my references era-appropriate.)

My Stars
While Gypsy has chosen a Southern-inspired “Oh, my stars!” reaction, Wonder Woman has opted for the still popular “Home Alone.” (I told you I can keep the 90s references coming all day.)

This Justice League Task Force, whose monthly title spun off of Justice League Europe in 1993 and ran just over three years, was formed by U.N. representative Hannibal Martin with Martian Manhunter at the helm and boasted a revolving line up depending on the mission. In this particular instance, Martin assembles a team to rescue one Agent Henry Haggard, who has managed to get his hands on some terrorists’ “McGuffin virus,” the name of which should tell how important it is in and of itself to the actual story. Haggard is then unfortunately left to die in the unlikeliest of places and taken captive by a subterranean, green all-female society.

Deepest Africa
Deepest Africa. As opposed to Shallowest Africa? Most Pretentious Asia? Maybe that’s where they speak the Pakistanian.

Haggard’s lady captors, the Daals (*small, begrudging groan*), will allow ambassadors to collect him, but they must be female. If you think these ladies are chosen just for being any old skirts, though, oh ho, how wrong you’d be! Wonder Woman is selected for being from an all-female society, Maxima for her psionic powers and status as a sovereign, Vixen and Gypsy for their respective animal and camouflage powers being useful in a jungle, Dolphin because the passageway to this part of Deepest Africa is underwater, and Martian Manhunter for being….green?

No, really, that’s all the justification we get why a dude has to go to the place where dudes are banned. Martin says it and they all stare at Martian Manhunter expectantly like it makes perfect sense. Well, that and his being the task force’s usual leader, which, sure, I get, but it still kind of seems like the team of women with super powers, which includes at least two sovereigns, would be able to, you know, conduct a mostly diplomatic mission to rescue some guy on their own just this once.

Of course, without Martian Manhunter turning into Martian Womanhunter there is no story here, and while I feel it’s necessary to at least address the silliness of the premise, from the start it’s plain that writer Peter David intends a fun and lighthearted tone for these issues and doesn’t really have much of an agenda as far as gender politics go. There are plenty of playful jokes along the “men won’t stop for directions” line, but it’s all pretty good spirited and doesn’t feel too cheap. For instance, when Martian Manhunter procures a romantic movie to entertain his teammates, their reaction is charmingly and decidedly mixed.

Saps
Thanks, Blue Beetle.

I like that Wonder Woman is apparently a sap. I like that Gypsy thinks it’s hysterical. I like that Maxima thinks it’s horrible. I like that there doesn’t really have to be any more to it than that. I like that it feels like a reaction you would realistically get if you put a group of women with strong and wildly disparate personalities in front of a romance flick. (I was going to say, “Hey, remember when we called them flicks?” and then I remembered Netflix.)

Considering those strong and proud personalities involved, my first inclination was to be skeptical that none of the women on the team would take issue with needing a man on an all-female mission, but I feel like those with the strongest objections would be the ones cackling at An Affair to Remember and, therefore, equally willing to have a good chuckle at Martian Manhunter’s discomfort at having to grow boobs. (Well, to be fair, they all find that funny.)

Joan Jonzz
My first reaction was that the costume is awfully skimpy, but once I thought about it for a second, I realized Martian Manhunter’s regular costume already looked like something from the Hawkeye Initiative.

I can tell the Internet has scarred me forever when I have to keep reminding myself this is a comic book and not just especially well drawn fan art. Like could have forgotten I was writing an article and not just on Tumblr when I looked away from the screen momentarily. I am so used to coming across an inordinate amount of racy drawings of my favorite characters that when I see boob straps and bikini-bottomed genderbent Martian Manhunter, I assume someone only drew it for titillation, even though this comic is from a time when such art would have been, presumably, private collection only. (At least I hope so.) And then it’s depressing that I just expect this lady version of Martian Manhunter to be bent over something and spread wide open in the next panel.

To be clear, I certainly have no problem with people drawing and sharing whatever weirdo drawings their hearts and other organs desire, but it’s interesting how much twenty-plus years on the Internet, coming across detailed drawings of beloved characters’ genitals without seeking them out, tends to reduce the novelty of something like Martian Manhunter as a lady. None of that, of course, is this comic’s fault.

Minions
It’s also not the comic’s fault, nor is it yours, that in the course of my research I found this picture, which someone with no small amount of actual talent felt it necessary to create, but if I had to see it, so do you.

Now that everyone looks the part and has the majority of the giggles out of their system, the task force sets off on their rescue/diplomacy mission, which, of course, encounters peril on the way. The one (and only) thing you need to know about this bit is that that they shoot Dolphin out of the torpedo tube.

Dolphin
Even though it almost certainly wouldn’t be as much fun as it looks here to be shot out of a torpedo tube, I can’t be the only one who’s a little jealous.

The only thing you need to know about the next bit is that once they fight off the Daals and are found worthy, they are taken to their leader, Her Who Must Be Served. Her takes one look at J’oan J’onzz in all her green glory and is, of course, instantly smitten, declaring that J’oan will be her mate. (Ugh, just like a girl to skip over the action to get to the romance, amirite? Maybe if someone had sent a man along with me to write this article, I’d have included more of the fighting.)

Having watched a fair amount of science fiction where the one lady in the group is always getting captured by natives, only to have their leader fall for her, it’s a nice change of pace when the trope is twisted or subverted, even if the guy in this scenario still has to be a lady at the time for it to happen to him. Once again, it’s happened more frequently since 1994, and if any nerd tells me they don’t think of this when they think of this premise, I’ll call them a liar.

Despite what the cover of Issue #8 would have you believe, J’oan is treated quite well in captivity. The rest of the task force is viewed with considerably more wariness, thus proving the old cliche that women are just naturally suspicious of and incapable of getting along with other women (especially when a man is involved, even if they don’t know he’s a man). Considering there is no scenario even remotely close to the one depicted here, I have to assume those are purely metaphorical snakes, and as such, it’s a fairly accurate representation of what it’s like to be a lady sometimes.

Snakes
Welcome to the Sisterhood, J’oan!

J’oan is prepared for the wedding and continues to play along in the hopes of peacefully finding Haggard and the virus (and, let’s be honest, because she’s a bit of a tease). Gypsy, who has been camouflaging herself to stay with J’oan, tells her to take some Midol when she complains of feeling tense and irritable, a moment I enjoy because it’s possibly the only time someone has ever offered Midol in the interest of being helpful and not as a sarcastic PMS joke. (I mean, it’s a bit of a sarcastic PMS joke too, but still.) J’oan also begs Gypsy not to tell Blue Beetle, Batman, or any other pals about this mission, which is a shame because I’d love to read a comic of nothing but this story being explained to Batman. Hell, if I weren’t this far in already, I might rewrite this whole article and address it to Batman. (If he’s not an insufferable gossip, why is he spying on everyone all the time, huh?)

While they wait for their next move, the hens get to clucking about a lady sovereign wanting a lady mate. Maxima says some homophobic and sexist stuff and then uses the tried and true, “I’m not a bigot, but…” Wonder Woman calls her out before turning into tea drinking Kermit.

None of my Business
Yes, women make this sort of joke, and frequently.

Gypsy, to answer Dolphin’s question, is off finding Haggard, who sees her, hears her name, and asks her if she’s the Gypsy, the stripper. Small piece of advice for the gentlemen out there: one of the few things worse than asking a lady if she needs a Midol is assuming she is a stripper, especially if she is in a position to save your life. She leaves him where he is so as not to arouse suspicion (and also probably the stripper thing), and the wedding proceeds as planned.

I love weddings
Dolphin, seen here demonstrating that any fictional wedding, no matter how forced or foolish, must be accompanied by someone funny crying or saying they love weddings.

I can’t help but shake my head that they can show two supposedly female characters standing together on their own marriage altar, holding their faces two inches from each other, specifically articulate that they are kissing, and still not show them actually kiss. It’s hard to come down too harshly on a comic from 1994, though, when depicting any kind of same sex relationship is something that is still a struggle to this day with comic books and cartoons. This would even be just about the least controversial circumstance in which two ladies could kiss, considering that, strictly speaking, neither of them are actually ladies.

Yes, that’s right. Her Who Must Be Served, in a twist no one could have possibly seen coming, is a hermaphrodite. I have to say, I kept waiting for a crass joke or something we’d feel a lot more uncomfortable reading now than we would have twenty years ago, not because I go out of my way to look for these things but because nothing was the subject of more punchlines in the 90s than “chick with dick” jokes. (Just ask Eddie Murphy.) Well, unless it was a straight guy character vigorously assuring another male character that he isn’t gay but is totally cool with it if anyone else is. There’s pretty much just a Crying Game reference, though, and they move on. (And to be honest, if they hadn’t made the Crying Game reference, I would have felt obligated to myself, what with the fuss I made about 90s jokes and all.)

Crying Game
If it’s big enough for Vixen and Maxima to see from way the hell up there, I don’t blame J’oann for feeling apprehensive.

Martian Manhunter, of course, decides this charade has gone on long enough, and reasserts his masculinity in a shower of muscles:

Overcompensation
Geez, we get it.

Meanwhile, Wonder Woman has been busy saving Haggard and Dolphin has found the virus, so the task force fights their way to freedom. They escape as far as a volcano and fly away, all except Martian Manhunter, who is paralyzed by his fear of fire. Her Who Must Be Served catches up and rages out on him, thinking that they have been laughing at Her. Their tussle almost puts them both in the volcano because what’s the point of having a volcano if someone doesn’t at least almost fall in it? Martian Manhunter manages to save them both, and they part on surprisingly cordial terms, considering that they’ve both had kind of a weird day. Her even tells him that he can come back if he ever changes his mind, and he considers it at least enough to tell his task force that it’s tempting.

All in all, a fun read with some great banter between the characters and not nearly as many groans as I would have expected. I haven’t mentioned the art yet (penciled by Sal Velluto, inked by Jeff Albrecht with Aaron McClellan, and colored by Glenn Whitmore), but I enjoyed it quite a bit as well. It’s colorful and vibrant and dynamic, and some of the facial expressions alone were worth the read.

This One
Like this one.

Must like the task force itself, JLTF have a revolving door of writers and artists, so I can’t vouch for what the rest of the title is like, but what I can vouch for is that Dean Compton and I are going to have a great time with our next podcast (which I’m still lobbying to be called The Spoken Decade), all about the Over the Edge crossover event! No one is more excited for the Punisher’s return to the screen than Dean Compton, so you won’t want to miss out on his thoughts on Over the Edge or on some of the other Punisher stuff we’ll be taking a look at in the coming weeks! Till then!

 

DC Direct Currents: DEATH OF SUPERMAN!

Hello Legions of the Unspoken!  I’m very sorry for not being around much as of late; I’ve been busy with my Kansas City Royals winning the World Series and just life in general aside from that.  I’ll have a full-length article or podcast up very soon, but in the meantime, here’s a look at the Direct Currents (DC’s house prozine of the late 80’s and 90’s) from January of 1993 that features a look at some Elseworlds stories, the underrated Scarlett, but most importantly, the Death ofSuperman!  Enjoy and tell us what you think was most exciting about what DC was putting out in 1993!

Direct Currents #58 (1993) - Page 1 Direct Currents #58 (1993) - Page 2 B Direct Currents #58 (1993) - Page 4 Direct Currents #58 (1993) - Page 6 Direct Currents #58 (1993) - Page 8 Direct Currents #58 (1993) - Page 10 Direct Currents #58 (1993) - Page 12 Direct Currents #58 (1993) - Page 14 Direct Currents #58 (1993) - Page 16

Daniel Clowes’ “Eightball” — A Personal Reminiscence : Part Five

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So — how cringe-worthy would it be if I started this installment of our ongoing Eightball retrospective by saying something like “Hey, we want some Pussey — Dan Pussey, that is!”?

I admit, I thought about — for all of about a second. Then I decided not to. Then I (sort of) did it anyway. And that, friends, is the evolution of the creative process in microcosm (even if it’s a hell of stretch to call what I’m doing here “creative”).

For a longer-running (and, obviously, better) example, might I direct your attention to Dan Clowes’ five-year stint chronicling the exploits of the aforementioned Mr. Pussey, something of a “stand-in” character for any number of “young hot-shot” comic book artists that his creator had the misfortune of having to rub elbows with at various conventions and signings over the years — and perhaps even for said creator himself,  if he’d chosen to follow only a slightly different career path and hawk his wares in service of “The Big Two” rather than striking out on his own with more personal (as well as infinitely more relevant and, yeah, better) independent efforts.

To be completely fair, I’m not sure how much of a “dear God, this could be me!” viewpoint was running through Clowes’ mind when Pussey made his first appearance in 1989 in the pages of Eightball number one, but something very akin to sympathy does begin to sink in by the time the character “dies,” in 1994, in issue fourteen. Oh, sure, there’s still something of a “shooting fish in a barrel” vibe going on even at the end, but by then Dan C. has put Dan P. through the wringer in his various occasional appearances over the years, and when he exits a future Earth broke, forgotten, and warehoused in a gigantic nursing home, there’s an almost wistful sort of tone to the proceedings, as if the author is telling his creation “sorry I was so rough on you, buddy — maybe you were, sorry to say,  too easy of a target — so let’s just end things now.”

Clowes-Pussey-Bunkbeds-for-web

Lending a bit of credence to my “there but for the grace of whatever higher power you believe in go I” theory is the fact that Clowes introduces us to himself before we meet his (at least possible) warped alter ego at the outset of Pussey’s first appearance, with some windbag asshole (who later wrote a letter to the artist when he recognized himself — a letter that Clowes actually, and memorably, printed) telling a bemused “alternative” cartoonist that he has a million ideas for comic scripts and that he should drawn them for him in exchange for “a percentage of the profits” — but as the douchebag makes his departure, our artist crosses paths with another clueless dolt — and our “camera” follows that dolt to the decidedly dingy offices of the Infinity Comics Group, where he and his fellow conscripts have been recruited from the ranks of low-print-run fanzines to begin a “new era” of super-hero storytelling (with titles like “Marionette Squad” and “The Ten-Year Robot War”) being spearheaded by an octogenerian Stan Lee clone named, you guessed it, Dr. Infinity (who would later “star” in a segment of his own where he was shown to be the living personification of every shitty, despicable move made by management against the comics creators who kept them in business, from DC brass screwing Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster out of the rights to Superman to an admittedly heavily-fictionalized re-telling of William Gaines hanging his EC artists out to dry during the congressional witch-hunt against that publisher, and the industry in general, in the 1950s).

And so begins Dan Pussey’s “alpha,” but there were a number of quite entertaining, incisive, and sometimes even poignant moments to enjoy in the “on-again, off-again” appearances he would make over the years before getting to the “omega” we already mentioned. Like his ultimately-fruitless quest to find an authentic artistic “voice” of his own Eightball number three — his pathetic, superheroine-based masturbation fantasy in number four — his dalliance with the “gallery world” in number nine — the flashbacks to his pathetic childhood in number twelve — so many memorable tales of haplessness to be had.

It may sound — okay, it does sound — corny, but re-reading all of these again in The Complete Eightball Issue Numbers 1-18 (note that the Dan Pussey stories have also been collected, by themselves, in the Pussey! paperback collection issued by Fantagraphics and pictured at the outset of this write-up) both brought a huge smile to my face and threw into sharp relief the more considered — and less caustic — tone that Clowes took toward his hard-luck “hero” as the stories unfolded.

pusseynosuperheroes

Of course, then-current events in the “comic book landscape” made their way into the Pussey narrative, as well, with Dan functioning as a doppleganger of sorts for the Image creators who were at the “top of the heap” at that time, but Clowes had the good sense to foresee the inevitable collapse their glut of garbage would have upon the industry, and that scenario plays a large part in, as the character himself  claims it’s pronounced, “Poo-say”‘s demise, so this series of strips — in addition to being the only holdover between “phase one” and “phase two” of Eightball, as we’ve previously discussed, gets bonus points for being eerily prescient, as well. Clowes not only had his “finger on the pulse,” he knew what would happen once he pressed in.

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And so it is that the wonderfully sporadic misadventures of Dan Pussey probably have the greatest amount of sheer nostalgia value of anything in the pages of Eightball. Everything Clowes depicted either had happened, was happening, or would happen soon enough (in relative terms, of course — by now, it’s all happened), and while it would be a definte reach to say that the real Dan ever lost his contempt for the fake Dan entirely, by the time it was all said and done you could definitely sense that he viewed him as something of a tragic, rather than a purely sickening, figure.

Such a process of “warming up” to his characters would play an ever-greater role in Eightball as a whole, and we’ll delve into that more deeply next time when we take a look at the modern masterpiece that is “Ghost World.” Looking forward to seeing you then!