Aloha~!
So, I figured I would start off the actual "content" of this blog with a review of a book that made me want to write reviews in the first place: Mark
Millar & J.G.
Jones's Wanted.
Now, I'll be blatantly honest, I had never heard of this book until they started advertising the film on the
Internet and, even then, all it was was flashy special effects and a rear nudity shot of Angelina Jolie (and what straight man doesn't like that?). I never bothered to see the film when it was in theatres because, frankly, I thought it looked like a rather generic action film with cool stunts loosely based on a comic, like most Hollywood comic-to-film adaptations. I finally watched it after my Mum bought it on DVD and I was told that Morgan Freeman had his
blackest line ever in the film (cause, let's face it, Mr. Freeman has tended to be a very "
white-friendly" black man throughout his career). After watching the generally underwhelming but entertaining film I hit up the ever so useful
www.wikipedia.org to see just how different it was from the original graphic source. What I read prompted me to order a copy of Wanted from
Amazon (well, in truth I used the trade of Wanted to boost a video game I was ordering over the minimum to get free shipping...same difference no?)
Eventually the book arrived in my mailbox and I set it aside after a quick glance at its contents. Now, don't misunderstand me, I was not setting it aside out of a sudden disinterest in the material, but out of respect for the material. See, I need to wear glasses to see perfectly and I was waiting for my replacements to be ready for pick-up after having left my previous pair on a bus while rushing around like a fool (lesson, kiddies, never rush anywhere). Even from just my quick glances I knew that J.G.
Jones's art deserved my full visual acuity and that the book would warrant a straight
read-through without taking breaks for sore or tired eyes. I would not prove to be mistaken.
Now, I don't much want to over-spoil the plot for anyone out there who might not have read this book yet, but I couldn't possibly give this book a fair review without bringing to the fore all my gripes and praises for not only how the story is presented through J.G.'s art and
Millar's words, but also what they are presenting.
Before I even got to the story proper, at least in my edition, there was an introduction to read by someone whom I've never heard of before or since (yet), Brian K. Vaughn (and, yes, the book does tell me he is responsible for things like
Ex Machina and
Runaways and
Y: The Last Man, but I still haven't read any of that). This introduction proceeded to inform me that "If this is your first time reading
Wanted, have fun , and get ready for those last two pages. Those of you who refuse to see what the conclusion is really saying will probably want to burn this beautiful collection the second you put it down. But if that's the case, you should use my introduction page as kindling because I think
Wanted has the bravest, most interesting finale to a comic ever" (p.4) and, frankly, before I read the actual text, this introduction sounded like phenomenally high praise from someone who has received high praise himself (I have heard ceaselessly of how amazing
Y is)...by the end of the book, all the intro did was make me think Brian K. Vaughn is full of crap. But we'll get to the end of the book later; we still haven't gotten started yet.
The plot of
Wanted is a spin on a tale we should all be
familiar with: A boy discovers he is the inheritor of his father's out-of-this-world legacy. The twist here is that Wesley Gibson's father was no heroic king or world-saving superhero, his father was a sadistic, murderous super assassin. So, as the tale goes, to gain full and proper access to his dead father's estate our "
hero", Wesley Gibson, is recruited into "The Fraternity" (of Super Villains) and is schooled in the ways of murder, theft and *drumroll* rape! He wantonly performs horrible deeds until Civil war breaks out amongst the members of The Fraternity and he kills villains all over the place and gets some surprises thrown at him up till the last two pages where he isn't redeemed and shows the readers his "I'm fucking you in the ass" face (and no, Im not even joking). The ride through much of this strange tale had me hoping, somehow, that he would do something good. Wesley's life before he becomes all supervillainous is, distinctly, pretty horrible and Wesley is, without a doubt, an even bigger pussy than most people I know in real life and, lets face it, comic books are the medium where people aren't supposed to be more pathetic than real life. Because of this I sat there simultaneosly happy that he was no longer living the dreariest of mundane lives and hating him for being a horrible person. Millar very finely crafted this balance, I will admit, but there are many aspects to his writing here that fall incredibly short (especially if you've ever seen his writing at its peak, like, say, in
Superman: Red Son).
The problem, overall, with the plot isn't so much the despicability of its characters or ideals (because, lets face it, condoning rape is pretty damned despicable) but in how much of the book is just phenomenally unbelievable. I like the idea that the Villains rewrote reality to have never included Superheroes (and the references to Adam West, Burt Ward and Christopher Reeve that spawn from this) but I can't wrap my mind around much of the seemingly smaller notions, as odd as that may be. Millar posits a world wherein regular handguns can seemingly kill everyone and everything, no matter how superheroic the person being shot is supposed to be. Scores of costumed supervillains run around carrying basic looking assault rifles and other firearms, with very few characters being shown to have any form of power whatsoever (which weakens the notion that these mooks would have been able to take down superheroes) and any supervillain with any shred of what seems like an actual power eiter has an absurd weakness (Shithead is killed with Bleach) or is so stupid that they forget the limits of their own powers (see: Sucker forgetting his ability drain has a time limit on it). I read page after page in a dumbfounded state of disbelief, thinking that the stupidity couldn't get any worse. I mean, maybe you can accept a slew of supposed supervillains ALL using basic firearms, but to me that seems to invalidate the whole notion of them being super and not just regular criminals in funny costumes. Unfortunately, the amazingly absurd crap got worse: A Supervillain Night Club with narry a mention of Superheroes ever thinking "Hey, why don't we take down a bunch of them while they're all too drunk and stioned to fight back right proper?". I think Millar kinda dropped the ball in a lot of places here, conceptually, and that's not even getting to the dialogue, which is the one part of writing in comics that carries on from the script to the printed page without going through a visual medium.
The dialogue, to me, is probably the biggest travesty of this book. Millar herein has scripted panel after panel and page after page of racial epithets and non-stop swearing. Cholo this, Motherfucker that. I, in my daily life and my daily writings, am not afraid to use some foul fucking language where applicable, but Millar seems to have turned the dial to Eleven and not cared whether or not it actually made the story better. After the first several pages it becomes clear that its vulgarity for the sake of gratuitous motherfucking vulagrity. If you're anything like me, and I hope you are if you're enjoying my blog, then you know that the English language has more to offer than swearing and hatred. And Millar, frankly, seems like someone who should have known that. Why he chose to write this way is beyond me and, even worse, is the fact that I do see glimmers of his true brilliance on many of the pages in this book. The sad fact is that I want to believe the back cover quip from Wizard Magazine claiming that wanted has the "sharpest dialogue around", but it just isnt true.
Luckily enough, none of the negative aspects of plot, concept or dialogue can hamper the art in this book. J.G. Jones is a master storyteller. The panels on, let's say, 90% of the pages flow perfectly from one to the next and so on. Many of the pages are jam packed with characters, all of whome are visually distinct and detailed. Easily the funnest part of this book became picking out all the references to Marvel and DC classic semi-obscure characters like
The Tarantula or
Sunfire, to name but two. Hell, one of The Future's henchmen is a clear deadringer for
"Big Poppa Pump" Scott Steiner, makes me wanna know which one of these guys is the wrestling fan that wanted him in it. The true mastery of his art is shown when J.G. is required to draw a flashback scene to the pre-relaity warped world and changes up his style to one that matches, rather handily, that of pre-80s comics (props must, as well, be given to the colourist for these pages). I would love to be able to have the chance to work with J.G. Jones on something, even if it is just having him paint a cover, his covers for these books are phenomenally painted and he easily ranks up with Alex Ross and Joe Jusko as the best hyperrealistic painters I've ever seen work in the comic industry. In fact, the only problem I have with his art at all is in character design. I am, frankly, not enamoured at all with Halle Berry, so The Fox does nothing for me in the "super sexy" way that she is supposed to, and I find that Wesley Gibson spends approximately far too much of the book looking exactly like Eminem, which induces me to laugh and not take him seriously.
Now, all this amounts to an acceptable, visually stunning attempt to try something new with classic ideas and, were it not for the last two pages of the book, would have only left me with a bitter taste in my mouth and a lot of respect for the people behind
Wanted. Unfortunately, those last two pages do exist. These last two pages posit that you are exactly like Wesley Gibson was at the begining of the book, pathetic and stupid and unaware that the world used to be better before the supervillains took over and that our lives are empty and, oh my god, comics are telling me the truth about the world as it used to be...wait, I think I've seen something simillar done in film before...it was called The Matrix, and it tried to tell me that the world as we know it isn't really what was real or is real either. I've been there and done that before. The worst part though, isnt even that these last two pages shit all over what could have been an actual ending to a story I just devoted hours to reading, they tell me that I am just a consumer whore who will just buy something else to fill up my life and that Wesley Gibson is metaphorically fucking me in the ass. It makes me wonder who is worse: Me for buying this book or Millar for writing this ending? Sure, I spent money on something that "filled a void" in my life (I'm paraphrasing here) but Millar wrote it and still thinks it is just consumer drivel. Is it worse to gain pleasure from the beast, or to create the beast?
The book, overall and including the last two awful excuses for pages, only really truly comes into its full amazingness once you read the afterward by Millar, wherein he explains what triggered his basic ideas to write this book.
Wanted, once you look at it through the eyes of a disillusioned child, actually makes a lot more sense. It is a well written, beautifully drawn attempt to explain away a lost sense of innocence. I get the "joke", but I think it would have been funnier if it didn't have to be explained to me. All my complaints regarding this book still stand, but with further knowledge on its inception I have been able to fully appreciate it for waht it is. It isn't the best thing that Millar has written, but it is certainly worth reading. And, as for whether or not you should buy it if you havent, let me put it this way: Reading this book taught me a lot about what I do and do not like to see done in comics as a medium and, as such, I will likely be a better writer myself, whether or not critics agree. Wanted has found itself a nice and permanent spot on my shelf next to more and less meaningful texts and will be read again, when I feel I need a refresher course on the lessons it teaches.
