It wasn't until this past January, when we had a joint birthday party celebrating my Gram's 83rd, my cousin's 45th, and my 39th, that I finally did the math and realized how young she was she first became a grandmother. (In fact, doing it again reveals she was 38, so I'm older than she was. Huh.)
No comment on Michaela Coel, because I don't know her as an actor, but that clip from Nerdist felt like a paid advertisement from Netflix. EDIT: That said, having just watched this clip from Chewing Gum, I think she'd make a very fun Doctor.
Super Sons #3: Another strong, funny look at these two. Nick Fury #1 (2017): You have my attention. This is a one-off story that will clearly lead to something bigger as the series plays out. But that's not why you're going to love this one; it's the art by ACO that will bring you in, hook you, and keep your attention. When a book consists mostly of double-page spreads, you can pretty much rest assured you'll spend only a few minutes reading it. Nick Fury #1 is quite the opposite, however, as it is overflowing with beautiful details, truly cinematic action, and cool character designs. It's Jim Steranko meets JH Williams III, yet entirely its own beast. And that's with much thanks to Rachelle Rosenberg's colors. She brings a rarely seen pastel color palette to the comic, giving it a truly exotic look for a modern mainstream action book. Comics: 303
Superman #84-85: Toyman abducts and kills Cat Grant's son, Adam, leading her to seek murderous revenge. Tonally, issue #84 is all over the place. A bright, sunny, life-loving Superman takes Lois on a date in Paris. Meanwhile, Toyman is snatching up children all over Metropolis, resulting in Adam's heroic death. While there's nothing wrong with attempting to balance light and dark stories in the same book, it didn't quite work here. This is due to the fact that it begins in an extremely dark place before shifting to the lighter scenes; it needed to build to the dark from the light, turning an upbeat story about love and life into a tragic one about loss and death. That said, I like what DC was doing here. This was their way of telling a grim story without aping early Image. (These are dated December 1993 and January 1994, after all.) It's mature, as opposed to EXTREME~! And while Toyman sleeping in a crib is a bit much, he's treated as someone who is deeply troubled and needs extensive help. This version of Toyman is not trying to control Metropolis or destroy Superman; this version of Toyman is trying to save children from, what he deems to be, harmful parents. In a small way, he's been remade into the Norman Bates of the DCU, and Superman sees this in him. As for Cat Grant, there's an amazing sequence where you're led to believe she's going to sink back into her alcoholism, but then she pulls a gun and you realize things just went from bad to worse for her. But, again, they attempt to use a dual narrative, which hurts the overall impact. Our focus should be on Cat as she mourns, falls into an abyss, then makes her way to murder Toyman. Instead, we spend more time following Superman's quest to capture Toyman, making the story about him rather than the grieving mother. Granted, these are early 90s Superman comics, so one can't judge them by 2017 standards, but the narrative seems skewed even for the time. These are worth the read, despite my issues, as they fundamentally alter characters and the world in which they live. (My understanding is the other Superman books depict Adam's funeral, as well as more of Cat's mourning, so I might seek those out.) As an aside, Superman finding the treasure chest is so much fun! Despite being, you know, Superman, he turns into a gleeful child at that moment. Comics: 300
What do you do when you see a female colleague get rudely corrected by her male boss, even though she was right all along, and then watch as she apologizes for a mistake she never made? EDIT: He's not just her boss, but the president of the organization. Also, he's not my boss, as I do not work for the company; they rent space in our building, and I provide them IT support.
Based on Des' comments above, I thought I'd look at Deathstroke #11 and the controversial Hellblazer story Shoot. Deathstroke #11: Mixed feelings on this one. On one hand, I loved the Jack Ryder portion of the book. His investigative brain ran circles around everyone, including the frustrated detective. The way he was able to quickly deduce the woman's story was false and then piece together the truth made me want to read a Christopher Priest-penned Jack Ryder book. But then Ryder turned into The Creeper. At that point, not only did the book stop making sense, it transformed from a gritty crime novel with twists and turns and the want for revenge into a cliched comic book with awful cackling dialogue. Despite that, give it a try. The Creeper stuff lasts only a handful of pages, and the final line (though I don't agree with it) is perfectly in-character for Deathstroke. Hellblazer: Shoot: While I remember loving this when I first read the bootlegged / scanned pages in the early 2000s, and again when I read it after it was finally printed a decade (or so) later, this time around I actively disliked it. Once John Constantine shows up, the comic crawls up its own ass in terms of the "American kids don't know how to feel anything other than crushing despair" angle. It's an angry, naive, in-the-moment lashing out at a dire situation; this type of story requires focus, wisdom, and reflection if it's meant to mean anything. Shoot is an essay without a conclusion, and the revelation is both forced and false; it was written to fit Ellis' faulty thesis that American children and teenagers are without hope and a future. Glad though I may be that a supernatural element was not employed to explain away schoolyard shootings, I cannot and do not accept what this book is trying to sell. Comics: 294