Judging by the Cover – 05/13/26 new releases

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 #20

Variant cover by KyuYong Eom

Of all the many weird and wonderful things that the Absolute Batman team have dreamed up in 20 issues, I have to give a special shout-out to the Robins. Because even more than, say, giant mutant Joker monster, a team of Power Ranger-esque Robins is rich in all the ways that really matter (visually, narratively, possible merchandising deals, etc.) And even if we don’t have the full story just yet, we do have this excellent KyuYong Eom variant cover. Any time we can combine Batman and Gundam is basically an automatic win, and be it that giant-sized utility belt or the corresponding Robin jumpsuit, everything works here in the best iteration. But there’s also what this image does for the story — it’s the perfect counter to the dark and brooding Batman of this world. It’s a cheery little hero you can pin medals on and perhaps feature in some teeny bopper magazine. Ya know, the exact antithesis to Bats in every way, and such a deeply interesting way to both explore this world and delve back into the age-old dynamic between Batman and Robin. And the piece de resistance? The cover got me thinking about Big Guy and Rusty the Boy Robot, and that’s always a good, good day indeed.

Spawn #375

Cover by Harvey and Kevin Tolibao

If you didn’t already know, Matthew Rosenberg is set to taking over writing duties starting with Spawn #376 in June. And in the lead up to Todd McFarlane passing the torch, I’ve opted to take a hard-ish look at the final two covers under the “McFarlane Era.” (Yes, the air quotes should more than signify any irony or absurdism intended with such a statement.) For Spawn #374 from last month, I noted how Jeff Monk’s main cover was a “singular image [turning] our ‘hero’ into more of an icon than ever before,” and how that made sense given the massive change to come. For their contribution, Harvey and Kevin Tolibao have opted to…sort of do the same thing? Really, they’ve presented the most Spawn looking thing since Spawn #1 itself. And by doing so, they’re not just stoking nostalgia, but offering up an important message. Namely, that for whatever changes happen to Al Simmons (and boy howdy there have been a metric tonnes), this core is always right there to tap into. Not only that, but it always seems to carry the same heft and value, and even if it’s born deep from the heart of the ’90s, Spawn’s power exists todaybecause it speaks to the essence of our love of dark, complicated heroes. The more things change yadda yadda; Spawn is eternal, folks, and this cover proves he’s always waiting to jump into the fray.

Amazing Spider-Man / Venom: Death Spiral – Body Count #1

Variant cover by Lucio Parrillo

With this issue/story, we’re meant to finally delve into Torment, the “scariest new villain in the Marvel Universe.” Yet here we are, with your boy having picked a variant cover (from Lucio Parrillo) about Carnage. And what exactly would inspire me to forego one serial killer for another, perhaps slightly outdated model? I mean, I could say it’s that if we’re going to understand one deadly killer, revisiting another “favorite” is a good starting point. But I’d be lying if I’d actually said that, and the real reason is that seeing a Magic The Gathering variant spiked my nerd levels to over 9,000. (See what I did there?) Now, I haven’t touched MTG since the late ’90s, but Parrillo’s depiction here is exactly what I’d expect from some very odd, perhaps cyberpunk-meets-Cthulhu expansion pack, with Carnage standing at the peak of his gross blood monster powers. But even more than how I can feel all those tendrils on my skin, the piece de resistance here is the card description, which if my reading is even remotely close, makes this Carnage quite an imposing option indeed. (Magic gurus, please correct me using a combo of outdated memes!) Maybe it links back to what I was saying earlier: With Carnage established, Torment will open up to us like we’re running a table with some Aura Hexproof deck.

Hidden Springs #1

Variant cover by Pye Parr

Of all the trends to pop up in comics in recent years (horror anthologies, crime books, Batman’s giant shoulders, etc.), kaiju are the most interesting. A staple of the medium forever, kaiju are interesting in that, while there’s only so much you can do with giant monsters, they’re exceptionally entertaining stories if done with creativity and gusto. That’s sort of why I’ve been extra hopeful for Hidden Springs #1, in which Rob Williams and Nil Vendrell Pallach tell the story of a baby kaiju who is “adopted” by a “group of aging ex-Hollywood stars” from a fancy retirement community. And Pye Parr’s variant cover to #1 touches on why this story has heaps of aforementioned creativity and gusto. Our lil’ kaiju is the right kind of novel (like a giant version of the MIB worms), but also familiar enough if you’ve seen even one Godzilla film. He’s creepy and gross, yeah, but the right kind of endearing, and that balance is vital if we’re gonna have something that resonates. Meanwhile, the old folks here seem to each have personality, and they’ll be able to stand toe-to-toe (not literally) with our monster without being overwhelmed (figuratively). Heck, even the font just makes me think of an ’80s monster movie where, like, a babysitter has to watch a giant mutated baby. If this is what we can expect, then long live this new kaiju revolution.

Destination Kill #1

Variant cover by Riley Rossmo

Comics are all about communication. Not only between writers, artists, editors, etc. across one title, but even when it comes to variant covers. If a story is powerful enough, then someone doing a variant piece can easily pick up on those threads, ideas, energies, etc. and push into newer, equally as compelling heights. So, when Destination Kill creator Joe Palmer told me that this book was born out of the image of a “masked builder with a gun, standing on the snow covered roof of St Paul’s Cathedral,” I can absolutely, 1,000% feel that in Riley Rossmo’s variant to #1. Sure, there isn’t nary a church courtyard or single flake of snow to be found, but in a story about cops seeking justice amid a robot revolution in a corporate-controlled London, I nonetheless feel the essence of Palmer’s initial image. The starkness of it all, and how one person with an idea and/or a mission can exude so much power and intent. How it’s easy for the noise and context to fade, and now all you can see is this seemingly larger-than-life person. Whatever that person eventually does is unknowable; what we do know, however, is we can’t turn our eyes away when their plan eventually springs into action. So, yeah, comics are all about communication, and this one image is telling me that Destination Kill intends to do some rather big things.

Godzilla vs America: Texas #1

Cover by Matt Frank

Fun fact: I lived in Austin, Texas for about 10-ish months in 2013. And so while I wouldn’t consider myself an expert, I do know enough that, had I been given creative control or my own cover, Godzilla vs. America: Texas #1 would look a wee bit different. Perhaps he’d be smashing a Whataburger to everyone’s screaming dismay. Or, maybe Godzilla would be rising up out of the Rio Grande. Regardless, my first choice, as seen in Matt Frank’s main cover, wouldn’t be cows. But then, the more I look at it, the more I think it maybe is one of the better options (that doesn’t involve, say, Franklin Barbecue somehow). Because while cows may be a stereotypical depiction of Texas, you can’t deny the singular glory of these animals, and how they’ve come to represent some key ideals/values (a connection to the land, a certain level of ruggedness, etc.) Then, pair that with the overt absurdity of Godzilla stomping across the prairie, and you have something compelling. Namely, a moment that could really only happen in Texas and still seem both normal and otherworldly, a snapshot of a place where history and myth smash together into this place people somehow call home. Texas may not have been  g home for long, but I can almost hear it calling me back over Godzilla’s massive footsteps.

Iron Man #5

Variant cover by Jorge Fornés

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about technology. Like, the increasingly likelihood of the “dead internet theory.” How my one-year-old laptop has already reached its intended point of planned obsolescence. How rich jerks like Kevin O’Leary are forcing AI data centers on Utah residents (because he’ll suck up all their water but never call that place home). And speaking of AI, the continued proliferation of a technology literally no one wants or needs. In short, I radiate anger and frustration about how tech was meant to save us but instead it’s now basically damning us all. These same emotions are then found on and facilitated by this Jorge Fornés variant cover to Iron Man #5. Because in a story where AIM has stolen Stark Tech to then use against its inventor, I can’t help but pick up on a mix of anger, indignation, and even stubbornness. It’s a man who has built his own demise, basically, and yet he continues right on. And why wouldn’t he? Be it some nanite suit or this monstrosity that demands more wires than the Earth’s internet connection, Stark remains unwavering in his dedication to technology at all costs. In fact, he seems resolute here amid how far he seems to have fallen with/for his tech. Maybe that makes him a hero, and I certainly can’t argue with the novelty of watching him struggle to do good. But for me, all I see is the map of our demise spelled out in wires coming and going from places I can’t ever know.

Bleeding Hearts #4

Variant cover by Juni Ba

If that last entry was a wee bit of a buzzkill, allow me to let off some steam the only way I know how: with zombies! Now, is this image a wee bit obvious in some important ways? Sure, but then cross-pollinating zombies with other pop culture is often half the fun. But what this cover might lack in subtlety, it more than makes up for in fostering some deep, deep emotionality. Because you’ll hopefully remember that this issue is all about Poke and Mush, and if the latter will sell out the former to the zombie horde for saving Rabbit and Mama. From there, you might see Poke’s face not as some cry for help, or even as a sign of his complicated grasp on his humanity. No, that’s the mug of a man who doesn’t really care that his heart’s about to be eaten because his own best friend may or may not have beaten ’em all to the punch. It’s also a man who let himself get played in a way that he never could’ve previously imagined, and so becoming just another meal for the horde seems like a breeze compared to his deeper existential suffering. It’s a piece that embraces its slightly cliched tendencies and presents it all in such a way that those added layers and context really sneak up on you in the very best way. And that’s sort of what happened with Poke: It all seemed to be going one way, and now he’s burdened with all new insights and pain. Hey, kid, I guess that’s just Life.

Innards #1

Cover by Sam Lotfi

Lots of things about Innards should have me jacked. The fact that it’s a reunion of the team behind the badass Mosely (Rob Guillory and Sam Lotfi). There’s also the fact that the story involves mankind uncovering a new power source that’s “accessible only by teleportation and navigation through an inhospitable subterranean maze.” Oh, and said energy source is called Lucifium, which makes me think they’ll encounter and/or battle Satan himself. But the thing that has me the most jacked is Lotfi’s own cover to issue #1. If the prospect of battling Lucifer near the Earth’s core was cool, then Lucifium seemingly housing/being powered by unborn babies is like Tony Hawk busting out four consecutive 900s. (Also, does anyone else think said babies gives off some real Death Stranding vibes?) Meanwhile, the tone of this certain dystopia feels just understated enough, and the infusion of alternate science casts it apart in all the right ways. Even just the steampunk-ian tinge of the suit, like some updated diving suit circa 1897 or whatever, says everything we need to know about the state of mankind in Innards. (God, those valves are just so dang perfect!) Part of me has a solid enough idea of what to expect, and that that real fun will be the little touches/decisions that color this journey. Now, let’s dig in!