Review: Power Rangers Lightspeed Rescue

When an ancient tomb is disturbed, ancient demons spring forth to wreak havoc on the city of Mariner Bay. To combat this threat, five strangers are assembled under a special program known as Lightspeed. Trained in combat and outfitted with the latest battle technology, it is their mission to prevent the nefarious demonic overlord Queen Bansheera from being resurrected by her recently freed minions.

After the lukewarm Lost Galaxy, Lightspeed Rescue proved to be a much-needed break from the science fiction-tinged space adventures that preceded it. It's darker and more dramatic, weaving in elements of the supernatural with overarching plot lines. In fact, it has quite a bit in common with the beloved Super Sentai series Chōjin Sentai Jetman. Lightspeed features a cast of five strangers from various walks of life who are assembled together under a special project, spearheaded by a military-trained authority figure. The overall tone matches that of Jetman, though its protagonists aren't quite as outlandish and melodramatic.

Many of the characters within Lightspeed are notable for their multi-faceted personalities and their varied motivations, often to an extent never done before within the series. Team leader Carter, for instance, is inspired to become a firefighter after being heroically rescued from a burning building as a child. This informs his character and establishes why he's as driven as he is to do good. Another layer is added when it's revealed that the firefighter who saved him is a character we're all very familiar with. Furthermore, the overarching familial drama of Pink Ranger Dana helps to offer an emotional anchor for the series and gives her further depth as a character.

Unfortunately, Lightspeed falls into many of the same traps as the series that preceded it. Namely, it fails to strike a balance between all five of its protagonists. While Green Ranger Joel and Yellow Ranger Kelsey receive ample screentime, the others are largely relegated to supporting roles. The Blue Ranger is all but forgotten and not much is done to flesh out his character. Dana and Carter fare better, particularly the latter. In fact, Dana's personality and close ties to Lightspeed should have guaranteed her role as the leader of the team. Sadly, that thread wasn't picked up. Truth be told, the lack of development for our protagonists does seem to be due to the heavy focus placed on the older characters (Captain Mitchell and Angela Fairweather). The season-long courtship between Joel and Fairweather takes up far more time than it needs to, as it often completely pulled focus away from the other Rangers. 

Overall, Lightspeed was a return to form for the Power Rangers franchise. It wasn't quite as tedious as Lost Galaxy and its cast proved to be very likeable. The writing is stronger and there's more of a focus on building a series-long arc that leads to some rather frenzied battles towards the end. The lack of development for many of the characters is lamentable and the acting is painful at times (Vypra, I'm looking at you!), but even at its worst it's still not quite as bad as Turbo and it does a better job of reaching its potential than Zeo. 

Review: Wonder Woman Vol. 4 - War

After a brief jaunt to New Genesis, Wonder Woman is forced to face off against the merciless First Born in order to protect the life of her infant half-brother Zeke. Things get complicated when the God of War intervenes, lending his support to the Amazon Princess. Even still, the aging God's diminished power may not be enough to defeat the First Born once and for all.

Wonder Woman Volume 4: War collects issues 19-23 of Wonder Woman, written by Brian Azzarello and art by Cliff Chiang and Goran Sudzuka.

For roughly 18 issues, writer Brian Azzarello has been on point with delivering an incredibly satisfying and epic run on Wonder Woman. He has a firm grasp on the character and has thus far created a very unique world for the titular heroine, with a whole lot of aesthetic help from artist Cliff Chiang. By issue 19, it becomes clear that a plateau may have been reached for the duo.

War details Wonder Woman's continued battle for the safety of her baby half-brother from the clutches of the Olympians, as well as from the villainous First Born. Key word here being "continued." For two years, readers have been following Diana's struggles against the Greek Gods and by this point it's become a little monotonous. The Gods' continued scheming and Wonder Woman's rematch with Artemis are too familiar. Unfortunately, when Azzarello gives us a break from this we end up with a filler issue that does absolutely nothing to move the plot forward (namely, Diana and her allies get stuck on New Genesis for an issue - yawn). By the time Diana finally defeats the First Born, it's not as satisfying as it needs to be because we've been seeing these characters for so long. This arc would have been better served giving Wonder Woman some new baddies and exploring new storylines.

That's not to say everything about War is bad. In fact, there are quite a few stellar moments that showcase just how talented Azzarello is as a writer. The scene in which Zola picks the name of her baby is absolutely adorable, Diana teaching Orion a lesson in respecting women is hilarious, and the scenes in general between Zola and Hera are both humorous and touching. There's really no denying here that Azzarello knows these characters like the back of his hand and utilizes each one flawlessly.

Unlike previous volumes, War is arguably the least nuanced and most straightforward of the arcs within Azzarello's run thus far. Aside from the clumsily written twist at the end of issue 23, the plot moves in a linear fashion without any major surprises. While it may lack subtlety and mystery, War is heavy on the action and engaging dialogue. As such, it's punchy and extremely fast-paced. It's a slight step down in terms of quality in comparison to the previous volumes, but War is satisfying nonetheless.

RATING: B-

Review: Jem and the Holograms - Season One

In the truly outrageous world of rock music, Jem and the Holograms reign supreme as the top divas. Together they must navigate through the fickle and competitive music industry, while lead singer Jem juggles a double-life as record label impresario Jerrica Benton. If that wasn’t enough, the crooked Eric Raymond and rivals The Misfits spend their every waking moment trying to de-throne Jem and the Holograms.

Like many cartoons from the 1980s, Jem is rife with campy fun. Its colourful animation, infectious music and soapy storylines are trademarks of the opulence of the era. While it would be easy to write Jem off as a 20 minute commercial advertisement for Hasbro’s doll line of the same name, it was actually an innovative series that captured the essence of the MTV generation.

In addition to the main storyline, each episode from the first season features at least two fully produced music videos with original songs as performed by Jem and the Holograms and The Misfits. While the quality of these songs varied, most were actually quite contagious (especially that darn theme song!). Lyricist Barry Harman and musical arranger Anne Bryant are to be commended for the work they did on the series. They were able to create songs that not only fit within the narrative and thematic context of each episode, but also craft a sound that was unique to the show’s fictional bands. For instance, Jem and the Holograms had a radio-friendly pop sound, while the Misfits were edgier with their punk electronica music. Britta Phillips, the singing voice for Jem, is also to be applauded. Her unique vocals carried each song with depth and emotion.

During the first season, most episodes follow the same formula. Each week, Jem and the Holograms and The Misfits are pitted against one another in some kind of contest that determines which of the two is more popular and successful. These contests range from anything as official as a battle of the bands to something unofficial such as gaining public favour. More often than not, Jem is the clear favourite, which leaves Eric Raymond to hatch some kind of plot to sabotage the group. In the end, Jem overcomes the odds while The Misfits’ lead singer Pizzazz, the sorest loser there ever was, throws some kind of violent temper tantrum. Such a formulaic format can make a show predictable and stale real quick, but Jem somehow makes it work.  The overall campy tone helps to keep things light, but it’s also the music and surprising amount of action that makes the first season so watchable.

Jem’s biggest flaw within its first season is inconsistency. While lead characters like Jerrica, Pizzazz and Stormer are clearly defined, others are woefully lacking in development. Aja is distinguished by nothing save for her blue hair and an accent that seems to change whenever she speaks, while Roxy is nothing more than Pizzazz Lite. Out of the 26 episodes that make up the first season, not a single one makes an effort to flesh out these characters. To rub salt into that wound, the writers instead opted to spotlight many of the children at Jerrica’s foster home for girls, most of whom are prone to melodrama and bratty behavior. Characters like Kimber and Shana fare much better in the realm of development, but not by much. Kimber struggles to move past seeming like the group’s resident airhead, while Shana’s only distinguishing trait is that she’s stated to be a talented fashion designer. There’s also the matter of Rio. Despite being the series’ central love interest, there’s very little to like about him. He’s moody and disrespectful, which makes the viewer wonder why Jerrica even puts up with him to begin with.

The first season of Jem is a lot of fun if you take it at face value as a high camp series full of catchy music and over-the-top drama. The cartoon holds up better than most of its contemporaries (despite the dated and often hideous fashions), perhaps due to our continued fascination with celebrity and glamour. Aside from a few instances where Eric Raymond’s plots get a little too real, Jem is at its core a family show and is appropriate for kids and the young at heart. The characters and music are endearing in a cheesy guilty pleasure kind of way. If nothing else, the first season of Jem proves why the series is worthy of being considered one of the most iconic cartoons of the 1980s.

Review: Madame Xanadu - Broken House of Cards

Centuries after her defeat during the fall of Camelot, the sorceress Morgaine Le Fey has returned to wreak havoc on the human world. Hellbent on resurrecting her departed son, she intends to unleash atomic warfare onto the Earth with him by her side and stake her claim on what remains. There’s just one thing standing in her way – her younger sister – the precog known as Madame Xanadu.

Madame Xanadu: Broken House of Cards collects issues #16-21 of Madame Xanadu, written by Matt Wagner and illustrated by Amy Reeder.

Broken House of Cards reads like a direct sequel to the first collection of Matt Wagner’s run on Madame Xanadu. Of course, this is largely due to the return of the talented Amy Reeder on art duties and the presence of Morgaine Le Fey as this arc’s antagonist. It’s a satisfying read and is a step-up from the more subdued arc that preceded it. Once more, Wagner juxtaposes the past with the “present” (1950s New York). Through flashbacks, we get a more detailed look at Morgana and Nimue’s life long before they became known as Morgaine Le Fey and Madame Xanadu. In the present, Madame Xanadu teams up with a mysterious detective in order to stop a satanic cult that is enslaved by the enchantments of Morgaine Le Fey.

The flashbacks are, sadly, the weakest part of Broken House of Cards. While they’re intended to elaborate on our heroine’s past, they’re actually interruptive and don’t add a whole lot to the overall arc. They take up two issues, which take place immediately after Morgaine Le Fey’s epic resurrection. This means that you’re essentially left hanging and are forced into the past to witness events which don’t feel terribly relevant to the grand scheme of things. The other issue is that Wagner digs further back into England’s past, meaning that readers will need to be familiar with that history otherwise they’ll be left feeling lost. His exposition is weaker in comparison to the preceding volumes, which makes the context fuzzier.

Arguably, the opening of this arc is the most riveting part of this collection. We see the life of a bored and ignored housewife turned upside-down when she becomes the vessel for Morgaine Le Fey’s resurrection. The imagery involved during her transformation from a ‘50s housewife to a slightly grotesque witch is quite spectacular (and memorable!). By placing much of the focus on this particular character, the reader becomes invested in her and her narrative. Unfortunately, Wagner all but abandons her once she’s possessed by Le Fey. This, paired with the flashbacks, really sags the flow of the story and makes it that much more difficult to become invested. We go from empathizing with the housewife to delving into the complex relationship between Madame Xanadu and her evil older sister.

Broken House of Cards is fairly inconsistent as a whole. The story is fantastic and there’s a lot of great action, but it’s much lighter on themes and it seems Wagner failed to latch onto the right flow for his narrative. Admittedly, it meanders at parts and it’s almost as if Wagner changed his mind throughout the writing process in terms of where he wanted to go with things. Still, the return of Amy Reeder as the series artist is what makes this collection such a joy to read. Her expressive art is whimsical and truly captures the eras she’s tasked with illustrating. While nowhere near as captivating as the first trade of this series, Broken House of Cards is worth the read, if only to get some closure between the conflict of Madame Xanadu and her sister Morgana.

RATING: B+

Review: Lazarus Volume One

In a dystopian version of North America, a feud between two rival families threatens to break into a war. To ease the tensions, the patriarch of the Carlyles sends his youngest daughter Forever – a living weapon known as a Lazarus – to offer an olive branch to the rival Morrays. What began as an act of peacekeeping becomes brutal when it becomes clear that someone within the Carlyle family is hellbent on inciting a war.

Lazarus Volume 1 collects issues #1-4 of Lazarus, written by Greg Rucka and illustrated by Michael Lark.

The Post-Apocalyptic world of Rucka and Lark’s Lazarus sets the tone for a nightmarish tale of medieval social inequality and science gone too far. From the word go, we’re introduced to a dystopic United States divided up into colonies controlled by what are known as Families. These individuals are few in number, but have the power and wealth necessary for keeping the rest of the population under their thumb. The Families each have Serfs – armies and scientists that work for them in their elite facilities. Everyone else, the poor and downtrodden, is classified as Waste. Forever Carlyle, the protagonist of the series, is a highly trained assassin classified as a Lazarus. She’s the youngest daughter of one of the most influential Families, but is shown to be increasingly aware of the oppressive regime around her and the differences between her and her siblings.

Lazarus is arguably one of the more stylized and complex comic books to come around in a while. Rucka, being a novelist, takes a decidedly literary approach to the title and writes it almost as if it were no different from straight-up prose fiction. He and Lark build a captivating world that stands on its own, which obviously necessitates quite a bit of explanation and exposition. For those observing the dystopic trend in young adult fiction, Lazarus takes a much darker and more mature slant. Rather than being injected into the lives of the disenfranchised, Rucka smartly positions the reader into the narrative of those in power. His heroine, the badass Forever, is part of the elite and her privilege impacts her in a way that differentiates her from the Katnisses and the Trises of young adult fiction.

Over the years, Greg Rucka has built a reputation for writing some of the most compelling women in the world of comic books. From his acclaimed run on Wonder Woman to his award-winning Queen & Country, he’s proven time and again that no one knows how to write a badass comic book heroine quite like him. Forever is no different. She’s the perfect mix of hard and soft, a gun-toting killer on one hand and a dutiful daughter on the other. She may be the ideal assassin, but there are still chinks in her armour. She plays a crucial part in the continued oppression of the Waste, yet she’s clearly unhappy with what is expected of her. The contradictions and introspective qualities to her character are what make her so interesting as a protagonist. Furthermore, the concept of her being engineered to be a living weapon, while unoriginal, helps to further distinguish her from the other characters in this world.

Lazarus has tremendous potential for growth. This first volume is brief, considering it only collects four issues, so the ball just gets rolling by the time the final page is turned. The characters are each very unique and all of them play an integral role in the dynamic to the book. From our protagonist to her scheming sister Johanna, Rucka’s cast is fascinating. Lazarus also features an abundance of memorable (and brutal) action scenes, deftly handled by artist Lark. It’s a great start to what appears to be promising work of dystopic fiction, one which has me itching to see what happens next.

RATING: A-

Review: Madame Xanadu - Exodus Noir

It’s the 1940s in New York City, and clairvoyant Madame Xanadu has been hired to investigate the mysterious death of a businessman. She soon discovers that he the victim of an ancient curse, one which threatens to destroy the lives of three prominent New York families.

Madame Xanadu: Exodus Noir collects Madame Xanadu #11-15, written by Matt Wagner and illustrated by Michael Wm. Kaluta.

In Exodus Noir, Wagner juxtaposes the bustling streets of 1940s New York City with the dusty roads of 15^th century Spain to weave a brilliant follow-up to his epic ten issue introductory arc. Picking up shortly where we left her last, Madame Xanadu has opened up shop in Greenwich Village and has become a popular fortune teller through word-of-mouth. The bulk of the story deals with her investigation into the death of a client’s father. It is presented in such a way that it pays homage to the noir genre, positing Madame Xanadu as the hard-boiled detective in search of the truth. The subplot takes place in the past, showing Madame Xanadu taking up residence in Spain with a seamstress as her lover and companion. Despite her living comfortably and happily in this setting, it’s become quite clear that the nation’s religious leaders are threatening to disturb her quietude.

Religious extremism and scapegoating is at the centre of Wagner’s tale. For a magic user and sexually liberated woman like Madame Xanadu, this spells trouble. The sequences set in Spain are infuriating and frustrating, as we see a nation overrun by religious leaders who use their power to condemn and murder anyone who is unlike them. Wagner uses these themes to his advantage, as he shows how events in the past continue to resonate decades and even centuries later. We see how passivity, assimilation and finger pointing only begets more violence, leading to oppression and grudges that last for years. Specifically, Wagner highlights the consequences that stem from the Catholics’ condemnation of the Jews. He painstakingly details the brutal acts committed upon the Jews and how, even when assimilated, they are never truly free. All of this, as you can imagine, informs Madame Xanadu’s investigation in the ‘40s.

While the writing itself is of a tremendously high quality, the art doesn’t quite reach the same level. While Michael Wm. Kaluta is to be given credit for having been Madame Xanadu’s original artistic creator, it seems that the years have not been quite so kind to him. His illustrations in this collection are rough and don’t properly capture the eras being written about. His art lacks the whimsical qualities and adaptability of his predecessor Amy Reeder, whose work on the previous collection was beautiful in every sense of the word. Kaluta’s lack of character definition and the overall unattractive Neanderthal-like qualities to them make it difficult at times to fully enjoy this trade.

Like the preceding collection, Exodus Noir is perfect for fans of historical narratives. While it lacks the same kind of epic scale and expansive qualities, it is still a thrilling read nonetheless. Wagner continues to build on Madame Xanadu’s character, giving her qualities fit for any champion of the people. Incorporating elements of noir, themes social injustice and religious intolerance, as well as adding a heaping dose of magic, Wagner creates a not-to-miss story that builds perfectly on the foundation of his first ten issues.

RATING: B+

Review: iZombie - Dead to the World

In the sleepy little town of Eugene, Oregon, not everything is quite what it seems. Its paintball course is run by vampires, monster hunters are running amok and a mummy is killing townsfolk to maintain his youth. For zombie gravedigger Gwen Dylan, this is just a drop in the bucket of all the weirdness she deals with on a daily basis.

iZombie: Dead to the World collects iZombie #1-5, written by Chris Roberson and illustrated by Michael Allred.

iZombie is quirky, fun and full of macabre humour. It’s like an interesting mix of Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Daniel Clowes’ seminal Ghost World, the book combines its cast of offbeat characters with the moody setting of a small town to create a really distinctive storytelling experience. While the concept of a town populated with monsters and ghosts is far from being new and original, what Roberson and Allred do with it is really fresh. By taking elements of the supernatural and infusing them into this incredibly mundane world, iZombie becomes this relatable reading experience full of characters who seem like people you know from your everyday life.

The plot is simple enough. Our heroine Gwen is a zombie who must consume a human brain once a month to retain her sanity. There’s just one little problem with this arrangement – she temporarily retains the memories of the deceased after consuming the brain. This means that she is most often a victim to their hopes and desires, and feels compelled to address any unfinished business they may have had. Despite her rather disgusting extracurricular activities, Gwen is refreshingly normal and has just the right amount of wit to get readers laughing with her clever quips. More importantly, at her core she is a good person with the instincts to do the right thing in any given situation. As such, this concept of a zombie who is disgusted by her actions and who is quite heroic makes for a rather compelling read.

The other characters in iZombie are equally as exciting. From the socially awkward were-terrier Scott to the Regina Georgian vampire Nemia, the rest of the cast is colourful and brimming with personality. My personal favourite is perhaps the ghost Ellie, who artist Allred draws so brilliantly as a mod-inspired ‘60s gal. She’s Gwen’s best friend and through this role offers support, as well as a potential comedic foil given her fish-out-of-water narrative.

The real star of iZombie is perhaps its artist Michael Allred. His punchy, retro art is absolutely stunning, making each page a treat to look at. The characters are all so visually appealing and are uniquely designed in such a way that they pop off the page. From Gwen’s pale blue hair with its signature white streak to Ellie’s stylish ‘60s wardrobe, the cast is really distinctive. While Allred’s art owes quite a bit to pop art, he should also be commended for taking inspiration from the ordinary. Scott, for example, isn’t visually portrayed as being a dashing Twilight-style werewolf. Instead, he’s this rather unassuming geek with a mildly amusing unibrow. These visual cues add a lot of character to iZombie in such a way that it highlights the excellent teamwork between artist and writer.

iZombie: Dead to the World is a must-read. It’s wickedly funny, it’s accessible and it’s got a cast of truly unique characters. It’s hard to find fault in this collection and, with Halloween approaching, now may be the perfect opportunity to binge-read this quirky little series.

RATING: A

Review: Fatale Book One - Death Chases Me

In the smoke-filled streets of the 1950s, reporter Dominic Raines finds himself trapped in a web of secrets and ancient evils when he begins a torrid affair with the enigmatic Josephine. He is so completely mesmerized by this femme fatale that he fails to see that he has landed himself in the middle of a dangerous game of cat and mouse between Jo’s ex-lover and a group of demonic gangsters. Even if he survives, Dominic’s life will be forever changed.

Fatale Book One: Death Chases Me collects Fatale #1-5, written by Ed Brubaker and illustrated by Sean Phillips.

In Death Chases Me, Ed Brubaker does what he does best – crafts a complex and dark narrative featuring a memorable lead character, all while paying tribute to the noir genre. He had previously done this successfully with his relaunch of Catwoman from the 2000s, but does things a little more differently here. Instead of presenting his story as a present day homage to the genre, Brubaker takes his readers all the way into the past and earnestly treats the narrative as a piece of hard-boiled detective fiction – with a twist! To this highly stylized world of dirty cops and nosy reporters, Brubaker injects a healthy nose of Lovecraftian horror in the form of the immortal Jo and her demonic pursuers. This gives the material an added sense of terror, one which works perfectly to further build the mystery surrounding the book’s femme fatale.

Fatale reads like a novel. It’s complicated and is deliberately vague, which both heightens the mystery and disorients the viewer. In fact, some pages need to be read more than once just to absorb every detail. The payoff is an incredibly tense narrative that constantly keeps the reader on the edge of his or her seat, never certain of what horrors will await them when they turn the page or see the next panel. Brubaker achieves this not only through the action and dialogue, but also through some rather smartly written third person narration. They tell us just what we need to know and direct us towards how we should feel about characters without divulging too much information about their emotional state. As you can imagine, this aids in maintaining an uncertainty about the characters involved.

The character work is fairly impressive, if a bit expected at times. Brubaker is working within a very specific genre, one which has been revisited so many times that we feel like we know these characters already. At the centre of the narrative are a cop and a reporter, the latter of which comes across as more of a plot device than a hero we’re meant to root for. The former, however, is a little more complex. He’s heavily flawed, as most detectives are in noir fiction, but he’s much more accessible. It’s much easier to relate to a man dying of cancer, desperate to escape this terrible disease and resentful towards his dissolving relationship to a woman he once loved dearly. Nevertheless, the real star in all of this is Jo.

Whether it’s writing Catwoman or Sharon Carter, Brubaker has proven himself capable of writing compelling female characters. He continues that streak with Jo. He is careful so as never to reveal too much about who she is and where she came from, only giving readers breadcrumbs every so often. This creates tremendous interest and investment into her as a character. She’s fierce and capable of handling a gun in any given situation, while also possessing a seemingly unique ability to put men under her seductive spell. By the end of Death Chases Me, we’re left knowing little more about Jo than when we started, but that’s not a bad thing.

Sean Phillips deftly handles the art chores for Fatale and it’s really hard to imagine anyone but him doing the job. It’s moody, dark and indicative of the era it’s set in. It certainly feels almost like you’re watching an old film noir, so that speaks volumes as to how synergistic Brubaker and Phillips are as a team. That’s not to say there aren’t some chinks in Fatale’s armour. Where Brubaker was a little shallow with some of his characterizations, Phillips sometimes falls short in the detail department with his art. At its best, the art is incredibly expressive. At its worst, it’s muddy and this leaves many characters with weird anatomy and faces lacking in proper detailing.

For fans of the genres of noir and horror, Fatale is like a brilliant marriage that somehow works despite its odd coupling. It’s also ideal for booklovers, as it offers a narrative most often found in novels and operates in the moral grey area rather than the more common good versus evil conflict seen in most other comic books. Death Chases Me is a great start and lays down the groundwork for one hell of a good ride.

RATING: B+

Review: Madame Xanadu - Disenchanted

From the enchanted forests of Camelot to the dingy streets of 1930s New York City, the immortal mage Madame Xanadu has spent her life using her abilities to see into the future to help the rich and poor alike. However, as time has passed she's come to view the mysterious being known as the Phantom Stranger as an increasing threat to humanity. Now she's more determined than ever to hold him responsible for his inaction to stop the death and mayhem she's seen in her long lifetime.

Madame Xanadu: Disenchanted collects Madame Xanadu #1-10, written by Matt Wagner and illustrated by Amy Reeder Hadley.

For history lovers and mythology buffs, you don't get much better than Madame Xanadu. Over the course of the ten issues collected in Disenchanted, Wagner and Hadley weave an incredible tale of magic, fate and responsibility. The titular heroine is complex and flawed. On the one hand, she's selfish and vain, initially choosing to remain separated from the human world by living in the forests surrounding Camelot. Over the course of centuries, she matures and becomes a champion for those who need her help. From the emperor of China to the prostitutes of London, she uses her precognitive powers to protect whoever she can. She often sees things as black and white, which makes her all the more relatable. The recurring tension between Madame Xanadu and the Phantom Stranger anchors these issues, and is used to highlight Xanadu's own flawed perception of fate. In a way, Disenchanted is like a bildungsroman that sees a childlike witch mature into a confident and determined heroine.

The narrative itself is broken up into five two-part stories, which see Madame Xanadu travelling from her forest home in Camelot to China, France, England and, finally, to America. During the course of her journeys, she encounters many figures from both history and fiction. Though not necessary, it helps to have a working knowledge on the context behind the events she's planted in. Luckily, Wagner provides quite a bit of exposition. For instance, the third segment of Disenchanted sees Madame Xanadu acting as a fortune teller in the court of Marie Antoinette. Wagner fills in the blanks by providing exposition through Xanadu's inner thoughts and some pretty nifty splash pages. 

While each segment can stand on its own, they work best when strung together. However, each one varies in its quality. The best of the bunch is easily the fourth, which takes place during Jack the Ripper's infamous crime spree on the streets of London. Madame Xanadu takes it upon herself to protect the prostitutes of Whitechapel. It's engrossing and wraps the narrative with an air of mystery, while also heightening the tension as Jack the Ripper becomes more and more vicious in his attacks. Artist Hadley also does an impeccable job capturing the muddied gothic aesthetic of the era. Although, to be fair she also manages to perfectly incapsulate the opulence of Marie Antoinette's reign and the whimsicality of King Arthur's Camelot. Still, both she and Wagner seem to struggle with the final segment set in the Depression era New York City. Unlike previous segments, it's not based in any one historical (or mythological) event in time. Instead, it's focused on a brief affair Xanadu has with Golden Age hero Giovanni Zatara.

Put simply, Madame Xanadu: Disenchanted is a joy to read. It's a unique take on a character who has long been relegated to the fringes of DC Comics' mainstream universe. Publisher Vertigo and the team of Wagner and Hadley place her firmly in the spotlight, proving that she's multi-dimensional and compelling as a heroine. Disenchanted's revisionist narrative is creative and absolutely engrossing. For fans of Justice League Dark, this will be one throwback reading that is obligatory!

RATING: A

Review: Uncanny X-Men Volume 3 - The Good, The Bad, The Inhuman

Following the events of Battle of the Atom, Cyclops is more determined than ever to ensure that his students are prepared for the harsh reality that exists outside of their school. They’re also adjusting to the new additions of the time-displaced X-Men to their ranks, which subsequently prompts some awkward tension between a teenage Jean Grey and Emma Frost and Cyclops.

Uncanny X-Men Volume 3: The Good, The Bad, The Inhuman collects Uncanny X-Men #14, 15.INH and 16-18, written by Brian Michael Bendis and illustrated by Chris Bachalo and Kris Anka.

The Good, The Bad, The Inhuman is interesting for a very specific singular reason – it is one of the very few modern trades released by a mainstream comic book company that doesn’t feature a multi-issue story arc. In other words, each of the issues collected in this book are one-and-done stories that focus on exploring the relationships between the cast members of Uncanny X-Men. There are equal pros and cons to abandoning the tried-and-true four to six part story arcs that have become common place in the comic book industry.

The major appeal to taking a break from the multi-part format is that it gives a nice little window of opportunity for new readers to jump on board. Since the focus is on building the relationships between the characters, the reader won’t feel too lost since they don’t need to know too much of what occurred from preceding issues. This also means that Bendis is playing to his strengths. While he’s renowned for being the man behind many of Marvel’s biggest events, he’s always seemed a little more at home when writing dialogue than building story arcs. That rings true for The Good, The Bad, The Inhuman. Every word that comes out of Emma Frost and Magik’s mouths feels purposeful, as their sniping at others and overall feisty attitude creates a lot of great moments throughout. Bendis particularly likes to play up Emma’s playful rivalry with Kitty, as well as her deep-seated hatred towards Jean Grey. For this reason, the series two blonds continue their streak of scene-stealing and stand out as the two most interesting characters in Uncanny X-Men.

The downside to Bendis’ focus on one-off stories is that they have the same effect as filler episodes from a TV series. It stalls the tension within the series, bringing the action to a grinding halt. While it’s refreshing to take a break from a story arc to allow the characters to breathe, the problem is that not a whole lot has been happening in Uncanny X-Men as is. Up until this collection, Bendis has been building towards some kind of conflict – be it with Wolverine’s school, the Avengers, S.H.I.E.L.D., Mystique or humans in general. There are no primary antagonists to speak of, nor does he really attempt to resolve the issues his characters are having in their personal lives. As such, this really leaves the reader with the feeling that Bendis doesn’t really know what he’s doing and like there’s no real direction to his run. Tonally, it seems like he might be aiming for a title similar to the beloved ‘90s quirky teen book Generation X. What is preventing this title from replicating the qualities that made Generation X such a hit is that Bendis simply doesn’t have a cast of characters that is memorable enough. Yes, Emma and Magik are fantastic, but what about the rest? The teen mutants he’s created continue to be forgettable and lack the personalities readers need in order to root for these guys. Aside from Tempus, none of them have distinguishable designs or costumes. That’s why Bendis needs six part story arcs against badass villains, because otherwise he’s essentially just treading water with a bunch of characters that no one is truly invested in.

The Good, The Bad, The Inhuman is an eerily accurate title for this collection. It features some great character moments as a result of Bendis’ aptitude for writing snappy dialogue. Fans will love Emma’s signature bad girl persona, while readers will continue to fall for Magik and her lack of a filter. However, the meandering plot deflates any tension that Bendis had been building towards. This trade also fails to flesh out its younger cast members, something which has been an issue from the get-go with this series. There are really only a couple of issues worth reading here (#15.INH and #16). You might want to grab those two issues separately and save your money to get a trade that’s more worth it.

RATING: C+