Most comic book fans have a solid idea about what they’re going to buy every week as they descend upon their local comic shop. With that said, there’s still a lot of fun to be had just glancing at the week’s new releases and taking a chance on a book that looks promising, funny, scary, etc. That’s where covers come in. A fantastic image can make the difference between trying something new or saying, “Nah, not this week.”
In that spirit, here are the covers that captured our attention this week, with entries from comics editor Chris Coplan. This is Judging by the Cover.
Absolute Batman #17
Variant cover by Eric Canete
Look, let me resolve a long-running debate right here and now: Poison Ivy is the best Batman villain. She’s smart, poised, undeniable, and controls, like, half of the planet via her plant-based powers. Which means she can take that salad Bats had for lunch and turn it into a torn intestine. And so of all the many great art moments across Absolute Batman so far, I think this Eric Canete variant cover (he’s also the artist on this issue, FYI) feels like an achievement for honoring Dr. Isley’s capabilities. There’s something different about these plants, though, as if they were culled from that movie Annihilation — it’s as much flowers and thorns as something altogether more lethal and undefinable (and that’s an added edge for a plant villain). Yet this Batman’s also different; he’s bigger and scarier, and maybe he’s just as likely eating the plants as he’s being eaten by them. What we come to, then, is a snapshot of this series’ true power: The more things change, the more they stay the same, and we as readers are left to sort through this ocean of context as we delve deeper into this rich canon. That, and it’s great to cultivate new energies and perhaps understanding just by tweaking the aesthetics of these icons. Don’t agree with that interpretation? Take some time to digest it, and the idea might grow on ya.
The Amazing Spider-Man #22
Variant cover by Lee Bermejo
I say some version of this with some frequency, but I’d watch Lee Bermejo draw anything. If he wanted to sketch out my actual death scene, complete with time and date, I’d happily Venmo him $45. Luckily, I get to see him deliver (and then some) with this variant for The Amazing Spider-Man #22. And there’s so much here that I could spend hours gawking away. The way the rust on the bell has depth and texture; that little split in Spidey’s costume (and the resulting contextual bounty); how the symbiote behaves like a suit as it lowers its own mask buts; and how I swear that’s a real cityscape in the background (and nothing can fully convince me otherwise). Yet the thing that stands out just a little bit more is what this cover hints at. It’s not just done because symbiotes are dope, but as the “era of space/earth Spider-Men comes to an end,” I can’t help but ponder the connection whispered at here. Is this pre-“Death Spiral” moment trying to hint at energies and significance from that symbiote “saga”? Is it telling us, subliminally but also maybe not, that this too could be a time of huge change for Peter Parker, and this event will redefine him just as the symbiotes over did? Maybe not, but with art this powerful, and positioned at such an interesting time, consider my imagination fully stoked.
The Muppets Noir #1
Cover by Roger Langridge
Not to talk about my wife for a second straight edition of this column, but she does love and support me and the least I can do is rep her beloved Muppets. The way she talks about them, it’s like they’re family; they’re as real and interesting as your awkward cousin or that overly dramatic niece. What’s that got to do, then, with the Muppets being “recast” in a pulp-y crime story? Well, just that connection means that, just like the time your aunt got scarily into reiki, your love/connection means you lend an open mind and give this spin a proper try. And your “reward” comes as series artist/writer Roger Langridge builds a truly solid preview and stokes our interest for a slice of Muppets that’s definitely in its own category. I’d say Fozzie is maybe miscast as a cop (or maybe he’d be spot on, actually?), but that suit looks like it was made for Kermit (and he shouldn’t have wasted his time in show business). It also feels like watching them put on yet another production (a solid commentary on the Muppets’ meta tendencies), and that whole “gimmick” ultimately works because I’ve spent years watching them do crazy and wonderful things and maybe this makes more sense somehow? I’d watch my Muppets fam do almost anything, but a spin toward noir should totally steal my heart.
Smile: For the Camera #1
Variant cover by Kevin Wada
When I spoke to her recently, Hanna Rose May made a great point about Smile: For the Camera. Specifically, she hinted that the story is about “grief and unresolved trauma,” and “what happens when pain is buried instead of processed.” So, what’s that got to do with this excellent variant cover from Kevin Wada? Well, it’s made to be like your average ’90s fashion or lifestyle mag, one where some pretty man/woman shows us how absolutely overjoyed they are to be rich and attractive. But this one, as you can so plainly see, tears away that veneer, and not only do you get some proper horror, but the blurbs here expertly hint at something altogether more terrifying and emotionally violent. It’s like this world is just rocking the most paper-thin smile ever, and we can now see the true scope of its awfulness starting to break through. (Sound familiar?!) And that to me is the perfect representation of what HRM had to say: The bad stuff is there, and even if you bury it under your best swimsuit photos, it’s going to rear its ugly head. If you deny, it’ll drive you nuts. And even if you can see it or face it somehow, there’s no mitigating the sheer pain and suffering you’re bound to face via said reconciliation. It’s clever enough to make me smile through the slow-building deluge of anxiety and tears.
Death Fight Forever #1
Cover by Andrew MacLean
Perhaps some of you were distracted by the forthcoming anniversary/relaunch of Head Lopper. And, hey, I get it: You’ve got your mind of some sweet fantasy action from the unfettered mind of Andrew MacLean. But don’t you dare for a second forget about Death Fight Forever, in which “super-thief bruiser brothers, Crash and Bash Biggle, jump into action to help Commander Thunderfang fight inter-dimensional crime boss…” And while the equally “gonzo” Alexis Ziritt handles art for DFF, everything you need to know about this book exists on MacLean’s cover to #1. It’s like every cheesy late ’80s action film ever got boiled down together and then cooked into a high calorie soda. Everyone’s as sweaty and weird-looking as they are undeniably jacked, and that, dear readers, is the sweet spot for the best kind of celebration and satirization. MacLean manages to comment on and perpetuate certain ideas/energies about the “genre,” and in doing so, he does nostalgia the right way (i.e., he makes us aware of our otherwise gluttonous consumption). The resulting piece is funny, sexy, intense, silly, beguiling, and a little unsettling, or the perfect combo of art and commentary. Death Fight Forever? No, forever ever.
The Florida Hippopotamus Cocaine Massacre #1
Cover by James Edward Clark
If I tell you there’s a comic called Florida Hippopotamus Cocaine Massacre, I shouldn’t have to say anything else. It should be the title, cover art, and a link to this site and then we all just slam dance for 20 minutes because we get to live in this timeline (despite its clear downsides). But this is me after all, and I have to spend at least a little bit of time talking about why this book will be good. And even if the title alone didn’t have my brain roaring at 1,100 RPMs, somehow the artwork of cover/series artist James Edward Clark has me even more jazzed. It’s the stylized-but-not-too-stylized look and feel; it proves grounded but bonkers in just the right balance/blend. It’s also the oddly anachronistic elements, and how that makes me think of some ’80s action flicks without limiting me to that rather specific niche. It’s also the balance of different texts and the re-purposing of old media/ads, and how I think that adds to the way this book plays with nostalgia and similar tropes. It’s even the color choices and how they interact, and how that both mutes and stokes my excitement in some rather interesting ways. But mostly, it’s that this thing is both deadly seriously and wonderfully dumb, and in that space some truly magical things can take hold. Magical like hippos high on coke, my dear friends.
It’s Jeff Meets Daredevil #1
Variant cover by Nic Klein
I’ve missed out on most of these Jeff-centric stories. Not that I have anything against the world’s most adorable land shark (as blasphemous as his very existence might be). Rather, it’s that none of them really spoke to me — until this Nic Klein variant to It’s Jeff Meets Daredevil #1. I mean, the sheer genius of flipping the script on your leading shark is generally astonishing; maybe it’s obvious to some of you, but I think it sets the tone for a specific weirdness and humor that I can get behind. Plus, when it comes to drawing sharkified heroes, I don’t think you can ask for a better artist than Klein. But there’s also something else here, hiding just below the surface like the Great White Daredevil himself. Because while he passes himself off this morally astray altar boy, Matt Murdock can be a real shark, and having him depicted as such feels like a generally honest assessment of his moral framework than what even some of the best stories have ever accomplished. Do I expect that kind of deep personal exploration in a book with Jeff the Shark? God no. But just the mere thought has me wondering, and that’s a win in my book. Good to meet ya, Jeff…
End of Life #1
Variant cover by Álvaro Martínez Bueno
And the rejuvenated Vertigo line rolls on as we come to End of Life #1. (Fun contrast!) And oh what promise this one exudes as Kyle Starks and Steve Pugh reunite post-Peacemaker Tries Hard! for a book about an assassin (Eddie Stallion, awesome name) as he hides from his old bosses back home only to face the threat awkward reunions with friends, a dying father, and international assassins who want to collect the bounty on his perfectly coiffed hair. And given all that madness, I just had to go with this Álvaro Martínez Bueno variant cover. Now, as far as I’m concerned, this is either a 1) weird New Line Cinema comedy circa 1992 that you’ll see at age 6 and have fever dreams about for the rest of your life; 2) the weirdest album cover ever to a guy who sounds just a little too like Bryan Ferry; or 3) a show that only got one season during peak Adult Swim. Or maybe it’s all of those together, or some fourth option I can’t wrap my brain around. Either way, it is the exact right amount of nostalgic, cheesy, absurd, depressing, and quirky — or, everything I want in a Vertigo title (or, a reworking of Duckman). There’s so much charm and insanity that it’s spilling off the page, and if the actual book can capture 1/10th of that, this book’s life won’t end anytime soon.
Death to Pachuco #5
Variant cover by Carmen Pizarro
From one book’s promising beginning to another’s unfortunate end, we come to the finale of Death to Pachuco. I don’t think anyone online has been as continually jazzed for this book — Henry Barajas’ scripts have been packed with mystery and life galore; Rachel Merrill and Lee Loughridge have brought the case of the Sleepy Lagoon murder to life with so much depth and passion; and Ricky Tellez is a damn fine private dick. But one of the things that’s also worked about this title is the many great variant covers. I’ve touched on maybe one or two, but this one from Carmen Pizarro typifies why great variant covers are so darn important. For one, this series has employed Latin/Chicano artists, and that’s huge for the sake of authenticity. Similarly, artists like Pizarro have been able to show the life, magic, charm, and sheer color that existed in this time, and how that power of young people just being themselves and repping their culture was so vital in the face of overt social violence. And, as someone who grew up in Phoenix, images like this remind me of the history of my own city/region, and how it still exists to this very day (for better and worse). It may be the end of this story, but the world of Death to Pachuco is very much alive and kicking (and stylish as heck).
You must be logged in to post a comment.