Where Archaia’s wonderful Power of the Dark Crystal and Labyrinth: Coronation comics tend to skew older in demographic, being best for teenagers and above, Fraggle Rock: Journey to the Everspring shows the publisher putting their best foot forward a more kid-friendly product in terms of storytelling, and a lighter comic tonally than the other Henson properties.

Kate Leth’s ability in giving the surprisingly robust cast of fraggles each a moment in the sun and a chance to display unique personality traits is the best part of the comic, and watching them interact is charming in a way that appeals to all age demographics. Leth turns the comic in surprising ways that range from heartwarming to adorable, with the final moment reveal of the doozers managing both at once.

Jake Myler’s art, while good in isolation, is less effective overall. Though the bright color choices and vibrant illustrations are no doubt the perfect choice for this comic, his use of color in backgrounds in particular often feels random. This, combined with the often claustrophobic panel composition makes some of the action hard to follow.

It’s the kind of comic kids are sure to love, and can still appeal to adults for whom Fraggle Rock undoubtedly holds a special place in their hearts, but it won’t win anybody over to the concept.

3 / 5

Power Rangers #28

If you had told me five years ago that one of the most interesting and bombastic comics of the year would wind up being Power Rangers, I would have assumed you had been huffing paint for a few weeks. But here we are. BOOM! Studios’ Power Rangers #28 continues what is proving to be the most explosive and epic comic since 2015’s Secret Wars. Seeing all of the different rangers from different continuities — and ultimately, different childhoods for readers — makes this feel like the comic equivalent of playing with action figures.

So what makes this crisis of infinite rangers so exciting?

In short, it’s that the entire creative team behind this comic is doing some of their best work. Writer Kyle Higgins is able to balance the scope of the fight scenes with the character moments with skill. With two rangers paired up, he’s able to show the essential traits that made these characters archetypes that were basically reincarnated every time a network from the 90’s or 00’s wanted to get some sweet Power Rangers money. Despite the obvious overlap, though, no two rangers feel like the same character. They all feel unique in terms of personality and history. The older Pink Ranger specifically has some heartbreaking dialogue about the subtle changes that result from time travel.

In short, it’s a Power Rangers adults can unironically enjoy.

Artist Daniele Di Nicuolo and colorist Walter Baiamonti create what is probably the most visually exciting comic of the month. Panels never seem to ignore any aspect of their composition, as Di Nicuolo handles backgrounds and subjects with equal detail. Baiamont is able to make this a notably vibrant comic with an exceptionally diverse palette of colors. Despite this, the comic never seems visually assaulting or disjointed.

4.5 / 5

It’s another solid showing for Jim Henson’s Labyrinth: Coronation, as the nearly flawless second issue of the series from BOOM! Studios’ Archaia imprint places comic in contention as the best of the Henson spinoffs. Simon Spurrier’s skill in crafting deeply compelling characters that never feel out of place in Henson’s universe gives this comic a beating heart that could pull even the most cynical of readers. Combining this with artist Daniel Bayliss’ skill for crafting the fantastical elements of the titular Labyrinth and colorist Dan Jackson’s visually striking choices gives readers a comic that seeks to be memorable, and largely achieves that goal.

The second issue continues the frame narrative of the first with Jareth narrating the comic as a tale he is telling the baby he kidnapped. This frame allows Spurrier to parallel the journeys between the original film’s Sarah and his own original character of Countess Maria. While we see a lot of the same passion at the heart of both characters, Spurrier takes care in ensuring that Maria is not simply a Victorian-era Jennifer Connelly, with Bayliss giving her enough visual distinction that she already feels at home in Henson’s universe. The medium allows for Spurrier and the art team to play with a lot of ideas and turns in storytelling that the special effects of the time of the film wouldn’t allow for, such as a mechanical puppet mermaid the lures Maria into a false sense of security before the kappa-esque monster controlling it seizes her and drags her to his lair.




Time for a brief tangent about why mediums work the way that they do and how that benefits Labyrinth: Coronation. Despite all the time and money that goes into them, a lot of film fans groan at CGI-fests in movies and tend to speak fondly of films laden with practical effects, such as The Thing or every 80’s Henson production. This is because even though it might not look 100% real, it still exists in the same space as everything else. It might not look real in isolation, but in context, it still looks like it belongs. Comics are an excellent medium for exploring elaborate, difficult-to-recreate sequences because it all happens within the same medium. Everything else exists in the comic, so whatever outlandish thing you see never takes you out of the fiction itself.

Rant over.

Readers will no doubt find themselves fawning over just how visually enjoyable this comic is courtesy of Bayliss and Jackson. Bayliss’ strength comes in two forms. His character design work is exemplary and gives the already charming comic one more layer of likability. The second is the way in which he is able to balance the more straightforward panels with the spectacle-filled set piece panels that will likely be some of the best comic art you’ve seen all month. There is no better example of this than the splash of Jareth looking into his crystal ball into the Owl King looking into his crystal ball to Maria navigating the labyrinth.

This layering of panels and frames gives an extra bit of gravitas to Jareth’s overall narration of the story and also makes everything seem like a rabbit hole. The Labyrinth is surreal and often has one foot placed squarely in the absurd, and Spurrier, Bayliss, and Jackson ensure that this already foreign world seems that much more unfamiliar. You could have watched the original film a thousand times and still have no idea what is in store for Maria, and for any comic that is a good sign. For a comic based on an existing story, that’s above and beyond.

Our Rating: 5/5

Things go so wrong so fast as The Power of the Dark Crystal finale, and yet it manages to pull of a bombastic finish to its equally tender and epic tale without drowning most of the comic in action sequences. Simon Spurrier and Phillip Kennedy Johnson have consistently delivered since the first issue, and though the comic has had some flaws in terms of keeping track of the story it wants to tell, the two have really made Thurma and Kensho into believable and well-rounded protagonists that often surpass the somewhat blank main characters from the Jim Henson classic. A world is shattered and a world is reborn, and The Power of the Dark Crystal #12 excels in its tender portrayal of cataclysm and hope.

Within the first six pages of the issue, the shard that has been the crux of the entire plot is lost to the abyss beneath the crystal and a vile skeksis murders the gelfling Kensho in a scene that is genuinely shocking as a juxtaposition of awful violence with the somewhat cartoonish style of illustrators Kelly and Nichole Matthews. That said, the Matthews sisters are a major part of why this scene and this opening is as effective as it is. Throughout the series, they have never failed to play up the innocence of Kensho and his fireling comrade Thurma, but they also have never failed at delivering emotional beats through their drawings of the odd faces that Henson established. When Kensho dies, the reactions of both him and Thurma are heartbreaking. Kensho was with us a full year ago for The Power of the Dark Crystal #1 and was introduced through unfortunate circumstances. This wasn’t how it was supposed to end for him. He was supposed to escape the turmoil he had been living in.

Thankfully, he does. As Thurma dives for the shard and into what is presumably certain doom, she lands softly as readers are reminded of the various offerings that have been made to the Crystal presumably since the end of the film and depicted in the opening scenes of the first issue. Spurrier and Johnson’s consistency here is a real treat, as the finale issue feels like a complete unit with the opening issue and it is clear that the ending was concocted alongside the introduction to the story, so most of the events have been building toward this.

The problem, it seems, is that the offerings made to the crystal have sealed the world of the firelings away from the world of the gelflings, and by extension away from the Crystals’ life-nourishing light. When that block is destroyed, the crystal shatters and reforms, once again eliminating the power-hungry Skeksis and unifying the world of Thra. If The Dark Crystal was a film about two people with seemingly no social power restoring balance in an unfair and unjust world, then The Power of the Dark Crystal is about two people with vastly different backgrounds reconciling those differences for a greater good and learning to not be afraid of something that might be different from what they are familiar with.

The main flaw in this comic has been the flaw that has dogged the series from the get-go. While the visuals and dialogue / narration reach incredible heights when they work in tandem, there are a few moments where everything becomes a little hard to follow and readers may find themselves glazing over a few pages. Thankfully, this issue suffers from that far less than some of the middle issues of the series, and the final dozen pages or so are some of the best that the comic has produced in its run. The art team is at their most dizzyingly glorious and the narration carries the gravitas that helped establish the series as such a strong comic book presence in 2017, and it provides a strong sense of closure as it culminates in 2018.

NewRetroWave Rating: A-

Just as Big Trouble in Little China / Escape From New York was one of the best books at the end of 2016, it is consistently one of the best of early 2017. I mentioned in one of my early reviews that writer Grek Pak could have phoned this in and many fans would still be enthralled and that from the start it has been clear that this has instead been a well-structured, well-written original story. Likewise, he could have focused the story narrowly on Snake and Jack Burton almost exclusively. They are already well-defined characters thanks to their source material, and Pak clearly has both of their voices down to a science, but again he chooses to go one step further. Big Trouble in Little China / Escape From New York #5 had me realizing that I actually cared about all of the side characters from this crossover, whether it’s Blind Apple Mary, the omnicidal female Snake Plissken, Bobby Liu, or source material character Bob Hauk. They all have some sort of drive, but more importantly sound so dissimilar from one another that the mix of personalities is and has been one of the strongest assets of the series.

While we’re on the subject of strongest assets of the series, the art continues to be remarkably praiseworthy. Daniel Bayliss’ art imbues a sense of fun in one would be an otherwise bleak post-apocalyptic world; a sense of fun which contributes to that being the first word I jump to whenever trying to describe this event to anybody. The art in the series is good enough to warrant jumping into another series with his name attached to it, and I think him and Triona Farrell are my ideal pairing for artist/colorer. Good coloring is invisible. Great coloring stands out in the way that Farrell’s does. It’s a feast for the eyes. The two are in sync, and as the story reaches its final pages and the art rivals Chernabog-esque epicness and scale, it’s clear just how good everything going into this event is. 

The story gives us a payoff to a lot of the Blind Apple Mary stuff that may have seemed arbitrary earlier in the series. The guitar of hers that Hauk stole is a magical artifact. In a subversion of the blues-singer-sells-soul-to-write-sick-licks-at-the-crossroads trope, it turns out Mary was just legitimately the most talented guitarist in the world, but that guitar had a magic quality, one which is capable of death. This gets taken to ludicrous weaponized hair metal lengths at the end of the issue in a series of full-page splashes that honestly would have been a solid ending moment as is. Again Pak took things further than expected and we see David Lo Pan summon an eldritch abomination of a Snake Plissken as he plans to fight against the government forces with Snake Prime and Jack Burton. 

By comparison, I’m usually ready to tap out on major comic publishers’ events by the third or fourth issues. After finishing issue five out six, I find myself angry that things have to wrap up. I’m having way too much fun. 

Big Trouble in Little China / Escape From New York #5
5/5

The first two pages of Grek Pak’s Big Trouble in Little China / Escape From New York #4 perfectly illustrate both why this comic series is a must read for anybody who even casually likes the source material and why Pak is the perfect writer for the job. In those pages, Pak provides rationale for why the Snake Plisskens of the multiverse would join David Lo Pan. This isn’t necessary. Snake as a character is inherently an anti-hero, more so than some of the grittiest hero protagonists. The fact that we are treated with two entire well-drawn pages, complete with eye-patch clad Wolf Plisskens (Snake Wolfskin?) helps reinforce that the creative team behind the latest issue of the BOOM! Studios crossover series are interested in telling a great story rather than cashing in on nostalgia.

You have no idea how lucky that makes us as readers.

Big Trouble in Little China / Escape From New York #4 picks up with the split up Snake Plissken and Jack Burton, with Burton in disguise as Plissken among David Lo Pan’s forces. As Snake makes his way towards Jack, Jack finds himself forced to prove his Snake-ness among his alternate selves. It’s a genuinely hilarious scene where he makes up stories about being a murder trucker. When Snake-Prime (just deal with my identifiers, okay?) arrives, he begins to reveal that Jack Burton is actually among them in disguise. He holds a gun to Snake-Turtleneck, speculating that he might be Jack Burton, which he obviously knows is untrue, but still, it’s interesting to see how Pak keeps making Snake betraying Jack seem plausible only to swerve it. Before pulling the trigger (RIP, Snake-Turtleneck, we hardly knew ye), he reminds us about how absurdly lucky, and potentially unkillable Jack Burton is. Luckily, the other Snakes don’t question the tautology of his argument, and are spurred on by Snake to begin fighting one another. It’s an inevitable result of getting that many Snakes in one place.

What follows is an exceptionally deep conversation between Snake and Jack. While driving, Jack comments on how evil the Snakes chasing them are. Snake doesn’t think it’s as black and white as that. “They’re just Plisskens,” he says, “Just like me. And you.” Jack starts wondering out loud about his destiny, and if that darkness inherent in all of those Snakes is also inherent in him. Is he going to inevitably become that?

“Nah,” he says, in his charming Jack Burton way. And we believe it. There seems to be something about Jack that is fundamentally different than the Snake Plisskens, and it seems deeper than just Jack’s lifetime of experiences. But what of Snake-Prime? He is actively trying to help Jack. What will likely happen is what has been slowly building throughout the background of the series. The focus isn’t on how Jack is a version of Snake, but rather on how Snake is a version of Jack. Something makes Snake like Jack, and we will likely see that come full circle in the next two issues. If you haven’t started reading this event yet, you really need to get on it. It’s worth getting the back issues and diving through them. Pak’s writing is steller, Daniel Bayliss’ art is fantastic, and Triona Farrell continues to deliver my favorite coloring in a comic book.

Big Trouble in Little China / Escape From New York #4 – Rating: 4.5/5

After a first issue that was stronger and more ambitious than expected, Big Trouble in Little Chine / Escape From New York #2 makes everything bigger, raises the stakes, and most importantly establishes who the characters are in greater depth. Apart from advancing the plot in a high octane way with a highly interesting conclusion, Snake, Jack Burton, and Bobby Liu are all given enriching character moments.  

The way that the comic introduces the similarities between Snake and Jack is brilliant. The first issue of the crossover seemed most concerned in establishing the differences between our two heroes. Seeing Snake’s thousand-yard-stare as he flashes back to the Siege of Leningrad softens the character without sacrificing him. It adds a level of connection that makes the story feel legitimized and not like enhanced fanfiction.  Greg Pak’s writing is complemented perfectly by Daniel Bayliss’ art, which illuminates the difference between these two men to tremendous effect in a panel where Snake punches Bobby Liu and Jack catches him. The expression on each man’s face manages to completely sell the inherent difference between them in one panel. Just like with #1, Triona Farrell’s coloring work is noticeably excellent. 

The amplification of Jack’s accident-induced heroics is one of the best things I’ve read in a comic all year. For two issues, representations of his luck have been extremely engaging, and it’s something that I eagerly await in future installments. Apart from that, Pak’s writing is really excellently paced. The plot never has a lull and switches gears before any scene seems to overstay its welcome. 

While strong character work dominates the main cast, with Bobby Liu even being given more depth and higher stakes, the inclusion of Blind Apple Mary is, as of now, strange. Pak obviously picked her to be rescued over some sort of MacGuffin for a reason, but she isn’t fleshed out in this issue. I look forward to seeing where the story goes with her, but as of now she robs the story of a little bit of its momentum. The comic ends with David Lo Pan summoning an army of alternate universe Snake Plisskens to do his bidding. This is a very interesting set-up for the rest of the crossover. The past two issues painted Jack as an alternate universe version of Snake while maintaining the possibility of Snake being an alternate Jack Burton. The summoning of all of these eyepatch-clad Snakes highlights that Jack is the anomaly and really leaves a lot of interesting narrative space for Pak to explore in the next four issues. Is there an army of Jack Burton’s to fight back? Will Snake reflect on his morality as being similar to the army that now serves David Lo Pan? This is a fantastic comic, and if you haven’t started reading it yet, it isn’t too late to catch up on #1 and #2 in anticipation of #3. This is going to be a wild ride. 

Big Trouble in Little China / Escape From New York #2

Rating: 4.5 / 5

After a summer where mainstream comic events have been bogged down by bloat, delays, and odd plot choices, the immediate impact of reading Greg Pak’s Big Trouble in Little China / Escape From New York crossover is thoroughly refreshing. Both John Carpenter creations have continued in comic book form, including a brief one-shot from Marvel and, most recently, a pair of ongoing series from BOOM! Studios. The comic series have had the general hindrances that licensed comics often have, but have been an underappreciated and consistent experience of the past few years. A crossover of Kurt Russell’s most iconic performances (sans Captain Ron) elicits both skepticism and nostalgic optimism. For readers who pick up this book with no knowledge of either the films or comics (I’m sure there are, like, four of you out there), this opening issue provides enough context and outstanding artwork to entertain. For diehard fans of the comic continuations, don’t expect too much continuity. For fans of both source films, which is ultimately the target audience, this first issue is fantastic.

One of the biggest challenges this comic has to overcome is merging the styles of both Russellverses, and making Snake and Jack look, speak, and act like different characters. Pak does stellar characterization work throughout, with each character being unmistakably identifiable. Daniel Bayliss’ art is another standout of the issue, fluctuating smoothly between the quieter, exposition-laden moments and the high-octane, also exposition-laden moments. While this issue is understandably pretty heavy on establishing who its characters are and why they are now together, it never feels like a hindrance. Pak gives them enough to do and Bayliss gives noteworthy reactions when the characters don’t say anything. Bayliss also deserves credit for making Snake and Jack look like different universe interpretations of the same character, and not like vintage Kurt Russell cosplaying as his favorite 1980’s badasses. I would be doing a huge disservice if I failed to mention Triona Farrell’s contribution as the colorist. In a comic that is dense with fun writing and engaging artwork, the fact that the color work not only stands out but in many panels outshines the other work is insane. This book is an absolute gem to look at.

The plot is mostly concerned with getting the heroes together and establishing the tone of the five issues that are going to follow. A former security guard named Bobby Liu attempts to summon the great hero Snake Plissken, but gets some John Carpenter-style BOGO when he summons Snake and Big Trouble in Little China‘s Jack Burton. It turns out that Jack is his universe’s incarnation of Snake Plisskin, or maybe Snake is an incarnation of Jack, and Bobby Liu is an incarnation of Big Trouble‘s Wang Chi. Stylistically, this feels more like Big Trouble in Little China than it does Escape From New York, which is honestly the best route they could have gone. There are elements of Escape From New York‘s grittiness, but the fun and magic of Big Trouble provide the most appropriate backdrop. Plus, Jack Burton’s clumsy brand of heroism wouldn’t translate as well. When Jack routinely gets, as Bobby Liu describes it, “lucky”, it is sold so earnestly in both story and artwork. 

I was expecting to enjoy this comic as a fan of the source movies, and a casual fan of Big Trouble in Little China’s ongoing series. It managed to surprise me in just about every conceivable way. For fans of both movies, this is a no-brainer. Even if you aren’t the most avid comic book fan, you should definitely still be reading this. It is adrenaline fueled writing and some of the best art / color combos I’ve seen in a comic this year. 

Big Trouble in Little China / Escape From New York #1

5/5

Backstagers #1 – Rating: 4/5

 BOOM! Studios Backstagers is delightful and fun, even on a purely aesthetic level. The art manages to toe the fine line of appearing to blend a multitude of influence and styles while still adhering to a completely cohesive look. Backstagers looks like the combination of a lot of elements, but Backstagers looks like Backstagers. Rian Sygh has created the perfect look for James Tynion IV’s bouncy world and bright characters.

The story follows an outcast named Jory who has transferred to a new private school. At his mother’s insistence, he joins the drama club. Anybody who has ever been a part of their school drama club knows that it can be one of the best ways to meet new people in high school, and that the time you spend in drama club creates powerful bonds through the high stakes cooperation it entails, and the magic inherent to being a part of a performance. Tynion takes the magic of the stage and makes it literal as Jory heads to the prop room only to discover that it leads to a surreal, ever-changing panorama of worlds.  Sygh is pushed to some pretty insane limits as an artist with the amount of surreal panels during this sequence, but it manages to stay grounded, barring a few moments of confusion. The titular team of crew hands frequents these worlds behind the stage unbeknownst to the actors. A small conflict involving some adorable tiny monsters called tool rats, but for the most part this is an issue concerned with establishing a world and giving life to its characters. In that regard, it is a success.

Sygh’s art, as mentioned, is at the nexus of many things. There are shades of Steven Universe, Adventure Time, and Astro Boy that seem like the most apparent influences. For a series that is already establishing itself as a lighthearted rump with enjoyable characters and heartwarming moments, this is the perfect look. It’s fun and whimsical, without ever being too much. There is an air of 1980’s Saturday morning cartoons, but not of after school specials.  

Backstagers #1 is also notable for it’s incredible sense of diversity. In breaking away from being a very white and heteronormative medium, comics have gone through a problematic phase of tokenism, as well as a slightly less problematic phase of making nearly self-aware big deals out of their own diversity, which at best can come off as capitalizing on social change, and at worst further marginalizes the already underrepresented groups. Where Tynion implements diversity brilliantly is the way that any potentially marginalizing label stands far behind several layers of characterization. They bounce off one another in interesting ways over the comic’s 24-page run, and all manage to be completely likable. The entire comic comes off as likeable. With the big two comic book publishers doing huge events and often resorting to grim levels of grittiness, Backstagers looks to be a refreshing series. 

A few weeks ago, after a wild summer of thinning out my Netflix queue, I noticed something strange. Bill & Ted’s Excellent Adventure was in the “cult” section of Netflix. Despite the fact that one could wager good money that everybody in the English-speaking world would recognize a young Keanu Reeves and Alex Winter sitting atop a high powered time travelling non-Tardis phonebooth, the film was paired with several films that have been seen by very few, including the underrated but also not-as-good sequel, Bill & Ted’s Bogus Journey. Absurd run-on sentences aside, the film is one of a handful of quintessential 1980’s movies. This led to an eager mixture of surprise and joy when I discovered that they were being given a comic book continuation.

hile I did enjoy the first two issues of BOOM! Studios six-issue run of Bill & Ted’s Most Triumphant Return, written by Brian Lynch previously responsible for a number of Buffy and Angel comics, as well as the Minions screenplay, and drawn by Jerry Gaylord, I was surprised to see just how much it relied upon the lore established in Bogus Journey. The story follows the Wyld Stallyns traveling to their utopian future to meet a younger version of the Chuck De Nomolos than the one we know from the movie to try to prevent him from doing evil stuff that affects his future which affects Bill and Ted’s most righteous present. Don’t worry. We’ll run through everything on a dry erase board before the test.

In case you forgot (which you probably did), Chuck De Nomolos was the Big Bad of Bogus Journey.

The story is comparable to The Midas Flesh, an under-appreciated comic by Ryan North. It has a certain jovial glee with implying some pretty heavy (and heady) time travel themes and elements, but then waving away from them or deferring to a joke. You never get the sense that it does this in an inconsistent-story sort of way, but rather much in the way the original films play with the notions of time travel (in Excellent Adventure) or eternity and the afterlife (in Bogus Journey). The Grim Reaper returns from the latter, but has a relatively insignificant role in the plot; unlike the repeated chant of “station”, a word that can literally mean anything.

And there I go talking about the lore of Bill & Ted’s Bogus Journey again. Writing about art is a funny thing.

The best part of the first two issues is easily the side story at the end of the first issue. It’s a standalone and it comes out of nowhere. It deals with Robot Bill and Robot Ted contracting a computer virus, and the notions and solutions that two young men from the late 80’s would bring to a futuristic scenario. Overall, the comic will be loved by fans of the series. The jokes land and the art is vivid. The only downside is that Bill & Ted’s Bogus Journey is unfortunately required viewing material before reading.