Grade: A
Good: Amazing art, non-stereotypical characters, authentic dialogue and a plot that incorporates real-world phenomenon like lotteries for public charter schools are the highlights of the first chapter of the new Spidey’s story.
Bad: Bendis’ preference for decompression means no ‘Spider-Man’ action, at all.
Ugly: Me, after having to wait for the next issue. Thankfully, it’s less than two weeks away.
SPOILERS AHEAD
In the middle of DC Comics month-long stunt relaunch of its entire line, Marvel staged its own stunt: relaunching Ultimate Spider-Man sans Peter Parker (RIP) and leading with multi-racial teen Miles Morales as the face behind ol’ webhead.
The controversial response to Miles taking the Spider-Mantle has been “illuminating” to say the least. For as many fans who support and are genuinely enthused or proud of Marvel’s, and writer Brian Michael Bendis, in particular, decision there is a seemingly equal number who feel this change is an affront to the Comic Gods. In between are fans who are cautiously skeptical, aware that part of this is likely a stunt, but still relieved to see a measure of progress applied to one of the medium’s icons--albeit an alternate universe version, but. Count me as one of the fans in the middle. Yeah, I know it’s a timely stunt in light of increasing criticism of the whitewashed world of superhero comics, but I’ll be damned if I’m not the least bit proud to see someone who looks like me become one of my, and the world’s, favorite superheroes. Even more rewarding is seeing the story of Miles Morales begin with a level of quality and authenticity rarely given to superheroes of color.
Ultimate Comics Spider-Man opens its second volume with a fraction of a full story, but it is a fraction that is so replete with subtle charm and an attempt capturing the zeitgeist of the African-Latin-American experience in New York that it quickly and effectively rises above being a stunt. For the uninitiated, the Ultimate, now Ultimate Comics, imprint of Marvel comics is centered on an alternative Marvel Universe where Captain America swears, Samuel L. Jackson is Nick Fury and anyone can die, permanently. The Ultimate Universe was established by Marvel in the early 2000s as an initiative to entice readers with comics unhindered by Sisyphean continuity (sound familiar?). The imprint was fairly popular, boasting some of the top creators in industry for a number of years, until about 2005 when Marvel decided to reshape their main line, known as the 616 Universe, to align with the increasing popularity of movie releases like Spider-Man, X-Men, and, their first studio venture, Iron Man. With the 616 Universe returned to prominence, the Ultimate Universe fell by the waste side, culminating in a series of events where Ultimate versions of the X-Men and Avengers saw their ranks dwindle after a series of violent deaths by the hands of Magneto and his Brotherhood of Mutants. Earlier this year, the Ultimate version of Peter Parker met his own demise at the hands of a collection of his worst enemies—including the Green Goblin, Doctor Octopus and Kraven—popularly known as the Sinister Six. The tragically noble death of Peter Parker, who died protecting his beloved Aunt May and girlfriend Gwen Stacy, opened the door for Miles Morales to become the next Ultimate Spider-Man.
Miles’ story begins with the ultimate version of the Prowler, an African-American character who emerged in 1969 as a criminal-turned-hero dressed in a goofy purple and green ensemble. When the Prowler breaks into the ruins of Oscorp—the evil corporation run by Spidey’s archenemy Norman Osborn, the Green Goblin—to loot the one of its vaults, he leaves with a stowaway: a genetically engineered spider with remnants of Peter Parker’s DNA. From there, the story shifts to introducing Miles, an average thirteen-year old from Brooklyn, and his family as they make way to participate in one of those increasingly common and nerve-racking lotteries for students who wish to attend charter schools. At this point, it’s clear that not only has Bendis done his homework, or at least taken a passing glance at Madeline Sackler’s wonderful documentary The Lottery, but that he is aiming to incorporate some real-world authenticity into the realm of the fantastic. That's not to say that most comic writers don’t aim for such heights, but the world of superhero comics can at time seem so divorced from reality, and with good reason, that readers, and creators, forget to ensure their work is grounded in a world that at least reflects the real world.
Miles is lucky enough to win a spot at the Brooklyn Visions academy, which leads to his parents—something I also love about this comic: a minority child with TWO parents because that does actually happen—a moment that should ring true to any readers, of any race, who are parents and want more for their children. It is a touching, honest moment that is rare in the world of superhero comics, and I am absolutely pleased that Bendis had the sensitivity to include it. After the Lottery, Miles rushes to share the good news with his favorite uncle Aaron, a seeming ne’er-do-well who has a contentious relationship with Miles’ father. Aaron’s congratulatory words to Miles are colored by a tangible pride that echoes Miles’ parents’ response. Now, this may seems like a bit redundant in light of the earlier scene at the Lottery, but it is necessary to show how important the concept of hope is to people who have abandoned their own sense of hope. At this point Miles’ story intersects with Peter’s and starts to mimic the first Spider-Man’s origin. Miles’ uncle has the bag from the Prowler’s robbery sitting on his couch. When Miles plops down for a seat, he is bitten by the spider from Osborn’s lab. Miles collapses suddenly, waking just in time to see his father arrive and engage in a particularly heated argument with Miles’ uncle. Then, Miles disappears. Literally. He becomes invisible and the audience is left hanging on the edge of a cliff, not a very steep cliff, but a cliff nonetheless.
Now, decompression can be as much a bane to comics as overpricing and poor advertising, and the cliffhanger here, while peaking curiosity, isn’t all that welcome because the audience never sees Miles do anything remotely Spider-Man-like. For new readers, that will be beyond disappointing. But, for those familiar with Bendis’ style, this ending is par for the course. Luckily, there’s only a two-week wait until the next issue, and the issue was available for digital download, so that should help maintain interest. Hopefully.
As much as Bendis is on his game with this first issue, bringing his trademark ear for dialogue as well as sluggish pacing, Artist Sara Pichelli is the real draw (pun only partially intended). Pichelli’s rendition of Miles, his family and their fellow Brooklynites is positively sublime. Pichelli--best known for her work on the last volume of Ultimate Spider-Man, Runaways, and the similarly-themed NYX—illustrates with a keen eye for detail. Pichelli’s details are not superfluous exaggerations, as seen in Jim Lee’s art for the DCnU’s Justice League #1; rather, they are the details that make individuals unique. Her characters look like real people because they demonstrate idiosyncrasies in fashion, posture, and demeanor. Take a look at Page 13, Panel 4, when Miles get bitten by the Oscorp spider goes to his Uncle’s: he is rocking black and white Adidas shelltoes with untied wide red laces. That is an amazing, and contemporary, detail, and it is one of a dozen. Pichelli’s characters look alive and the world around them has true ‘lived-in’ quality. This is not a pristine, blue-sky version of New York; it is New York at its most grounded: endlessly cluttered and a just a wee bit dirty, even in the best parts of town. Perhaps the best example of the reality of Pichelli’s New York is Aaron’s ‘apartment’. For those who know, his apartment is housed within a ‘traditional’ apartment building; it’s in a housing project, which is obvious through design and color—a tip of the hat to colorist Justin Ponsor for making Pichelli’s work really pop—of the hall and the apartment’s interior, all without one hint of dialogue.
Between the art and the writing, Ultimate Comics Spider-Man vol. 2 is off to a superb, if slow-paced start. As a longtime fan, I know the drill: wait two to four weeks and there will be more story, but this is one of the few times I cannot wait for the next issue. Despite my enthusiasm, I am concerned about new readers because while I think this is a great starting point and generally solid, I know they may be discouraged about the value of picking up a fraction of a story, much less in a plastic bag that harkens back to the collector-inspired crash of the nineties and prevents them from flipping through before purchasing. Between Marvel’s collector-inspired polybagging and Bendis’ proclivity for sluggish pacing, trade-waiting may seem like the wisest option for both new and veteran readers. But, I promise this issue is well worth the money. Sure, it’s seems like a great start to a collection of negligible value, but it’s definitely a wonderful start to what seems like a great story.
The controversial response to Miles taking the Spider-Mantle has been “illuminating” to say the least. For as many fans who support and are genuinely enthused or proud of Marvel’s, and writer Brian Michael Bendis, in particular, decision there is a seemingly equal number who feel this change is an affront to the Comic Gods. In between are fans who are cautiously skeptical, aware that part of this is likely a stunt, but still relieved to see a measure of progress applied to one of the medium’s icons--albeit an alternate universe version, but. Count me as one of the fans in the middle. Yeah, I know it’s a timely stunt in light of increasing criticism of the whitewashed world of superhero comics, but I’ll be damned if I’m not the least bit proud to see someone who looks like me become one of my, and the world’s, favorite superheroes. Even more rewarding is seeing the story of Miles Morales begin with a level of quality and authenticity rarely given to superheroes of color.
Ultimate Comics Spider-Man opens its second volume with a fraction of a full story, but it is a fraction that is so replete with subtle charm and an attempt capturing the zeitgeist of the African-Latin-American experience in New York that it quickly and effectively rises above being a stunt. For the uninitiated, the Ultimate, now Ultimate Comics, imprint of Marvel comics is centered on an alternative Marvel Universe where Captain America swears, Samuel L. Jackson is Nick Fury and anyone can die, permanently. The Ultimate Universe was established by Marvel in the early 2000s as an initiative to entice readers with comics unhindered by Sisyphean continuity (sound familiar?). The imprint was fairly popular, boasting some of the top creators in industry for a number of years, until about 2005 when Marvel decided to reshape their main line, known as the 616 Universe, to align with the increasing popularity of movie releases like Spider-Man, X-Men, and, their first studio venture, Iron Man. With the 616 Universe returned to prominence, the Ultimate Universe fell by the waste side, culminating in a series of events where Ultimate versions of the X-Men and Avengers saw their ranks dwindle after a series of violent deaths by the hands of Magneto and his Brotherhood of Mutants. Earlier this year, the Ultimate version of Peter Parker met his own demise at the hands of a collection of his worst enemies—including the Green Goblin, Doctor Octopus and Kraven—popularly known as the Sinister Six. The tragically noble death of Peter Parker, who died protecting his beloved Aunt May and girlfriend Gwen Stacy, opened the door for Miles Morales to become the next Ultimate Spider-Man.
Miles’ story begins with the ultimate version of the Prowler, an African-American character who emerged in 1969 as a criminal-turned-hero dressed in a goofy purple and green ensemble. When the Prowler breaks into the ruins of Oscorp—the evil corporation run by Spidey’s archenemy Norman Osborn, the Green Goblin—to loot the one of its vaults, he leaves with a stowaway: a genetically engineered spider with remnants of Peter Parker’s DNA. From there, the story shifts to introducing Miles, an average thirteen-year old from Brooklyn, and his family as they make way to participate in one of those increasingly common and nerve-racking lotteries for students who wish to attend charter schools. At this point, it’s clear that not only has Bendis done his homework, or at least taken a passing glance at Madeline Sackler’s wonderful documentary The Lottery, but that he is aiming to incorporate some real-world authenticity into the realm of the fantastic. That's not to say that most comic writers don’t aim for such heights, but the world of superhero comics can at time seem so divorced from reality, and with good reason, that readers, and creators, forget to ensure their work is grounded in a world that at least reflects the real world.
Miles is lucky enough to win a spot at the Brooklyn Visions academy, which leads to his parents—something I also love about this comic: a minority child with TWO parents because that does actually happen—a moment that should ring true to any readers, of any race, who are parents and want more for their children. It is a touching, honest moment that is rare in the world of superhero comics, and I am absolutely pleased that Bendis had the sensitivity to include it. After the Lottery, Miles rushes to share the good news with his favorite uncle Aaron, a seeming ne’er-do-well who has a contentious relationship with Miles’ father. Aaron’s congratulatory words to Miles are colored by a tangible pride that echoes Miles’ parents’ response. Now, this may seems like a bit redundant in light of the earlier scene at the Lottery, but it is necessary to show how important the concept of hope is to people who have abandoned their own sense of hope. At this point Miles’ story intersects with Peter’s and starts to mimic the first Spider-Man’s origin. Miles’ uncle has the bag from the Prowler’s robbery sitting on his couch. When Miles plops down for a seat, he is bitten by the spider from Osborn’s lab. Miles collapses suddenly, waking just in time to see his father arrive and engage in a particularly heated argument with Miles’ uncle. Then, Miles disappears. Literally. He becomes invisible and the audience is left hanging on the edge of a cliff, not a very steep cliff, but a cliff nonetheless.
Now, decompression can be as much a bane to comics as overpricing and poor advertising, and the cliffhanger here, while peaking curiosity, isn’t all that welcome because the audience never sees Miles do anything remotely Spider-Man-like. For new readers, that will be beyond disappointing. But, for those familiar with Bendis’ style, this ending is par for the course. Luckily, there’s only a two-week wait until the next issue, and the issue was available for digital download, so that should help maintain interest. Hopefully.
As much as Bendis is on his game with this first issue, bringing his trademark ear for dialogue as well as sluggish pacing, Artist Sara Pichelli is the real draw (pun only partially intended). Pichelli’s rendition of Miles, his family and their fellow Brooklynites is positively sublime. Pichelli--best known for her work on the last volume of Ultimate Spider-Man, Runaways, and the similarly-themed NYX—illustrates with a keen eye for detail. Pichelli’s details are not superfluous exaggerations, as seen in Jim Lee’s art for the DCnU’s Justice League #1; rather, they are the details that make individuals unique. Her characters look like real people because they demonstrate idiosyncrasies in fashion, posture, and demeanor. Take a look at Page 13, Panel 4, when Miles get bitten by the Oscorp spider goes to his Uncle’s: he is rocking black and white Adidas shelltoes with untied wide red laces. That is an amazing, and contemporary, detail, and it is one of a dozen. Pichelli’s characters look alive and the world around them has true ‘lived-in’ quality. This is not a pristine, blue-sky version of New York; it is New York at its most grounded: endlessly cluttered and a just a wee bit dirty, even in the best parts of town. Perhaps the best example of the reality of Pichelli’s New York is Aaron’s ‘apartment’. For those who know, his apartment is housed within a ‘traditional’ apartment building; it’s in a housing project, which is obvious through design and color—a tip of the hat to colorist Justin Ponsor for making Pichelli’s work really pop—of the hall and the apartment’s interior, all without one hint of dialogue.
Between the art and the writing, Ultimate Comics Spider-Man vol. 2 is off to a superb, if slow-paced start. As a longtime fan, I know the drill: wait two to four weeks and there will be more story, but this is one of the few times I cannot wait for the next issue. Despite my enthusiasm, I am concerned about new readers because while I think this is a great starting point and generally solid, I know they may be discouraged about the value of picking up a fraction of a story, much less in a plastic bag that harkens back to the collector-inspired crash of the nineties and prevents them from flipping through before purchasing. Between Marvel’s collector-inspired polybagging and Bendis’ proclivity for sluggish pacing, trade-waiting may seem like the wisest option for both new and veteran readers. But, I promise this issue is well worth the money. Sure, it’s seems like a great start to a collection of negligible value, but it’s definitely a wonderful start to what seems like a great story.
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