Doom Farce: A Short Word

DOOM FORCE SPECIAL #1, DC Comics, July 1992
Because Tim Callahan's book on Grant Morrison's early works includes a page and a half on Doom Force, I think I'll close out this week's theme with it. What is Doom Force? Well...

You know how Silver Age comics were stupid? And really, how today's comics are stupid too? Just in different ways? Now imagine that instead of the Silver Age, Grant Morrison had decided to use 90s stupidity rather than 50s or 60s silliness as a basis for his Doom Patrol. Well, you don't have to imagine it, he actually did it, and that's what Doom Force is.

Bringing in various elements from his DP, but lampooning the style of the early 90s Marvels and their bastard children at Image (Rob Liefeld especially), Doom Force hits all the marks as far as representing the era goes: Claims of collectibility, giant guns that might as well be penises, more than 10 artists to make sure the issue comes out on time, overwrought dialogue, grimacing characters with terrible names, lots and lots of crosshatching, frequent (and random) pin-ups, abnormal anatomy, gratuitous fight scenes, near-naked women, an obligatory Wolverine clone, and oh yeah, Angst with a capital A. Heck, it's even got a self-promoting letters page that starts with the words "We didn't set out to revolutionize comics."
There are some cute bits, especially if you're a Doom Patrol fan. Take a gander at the Chief's head keeping cool in a pink lemonade glass:
But in general, the indulgences of the style try your patience as much as anything in Liefeld's output. It's a bit like, say, Another Teenage Movie. It's not funny because it parodies something that is already a parody of itself.

Star Trek 562: Nothing Human

562. Nothing Human

FORMULA: Ethics + Duet

WHY WE LIKE IT: An actual ethical dilemma.

WHY WE DON'T: Incredibly contrived.

REVIEW: While I can't fault Voyager for attempting a good, old-fashioned Star Trek ethical allegory, the plot manipulations required to make it work overwhelm its production. While Message in a Bottle showed us that you couldn't just create a holographic matrix of the Doctor's complexity easily (or at all, in that episode), Harry can now suddenly do it in a matter of minutes. That he represents a Cardassian is fine, but that they can't change his appearance or anything about him to make B'Elanna comfortable is dubious. Then, a new Bajoran character is introduced who just happens to know the Cardassian in question just so he can make a fuss... It's too convenient.

Crell Moset is meant to be an analog of those Nazi scientists who experimented on concentration camp inmates, but part of the problem is that those events are not part of his program (though a certain ruthlessness is). In any case, he's not the real Moset. The question isn't whether the hologram can be held accountable for the real Moset, but whether knowledge gained through unethical means should ever be used to help people in the here and now. Personally, I'm with Janeway on this (I'm as surprised as you are). What's done is done. We can condemn the means, but if the knowledge now exists, we should use it. I don't see it as disrespectful to the victims, I see it as making up for the evil done. I would rather those victims' deaths weren't in vain. Of course, the ship is divided on the issue, but Moset makes a lot of good, pragmatic (if self-serving) points throughout.

The good news is that he's an entertaining character (I've missed the Cardassians), and that the medical investigation is played smartly. Low on technobabble and high on logical guess work on the nature of the alien creature using B'Elanna as a life-support system. The holographic vivisection is rather icky, but I give props to the show for creating a truly alien being.

In the final analysis, the episode deals in too many abstractions to really be such a polarizing issue aboard ship. I mean, they're angry that information in the database might have been gleaned from unethical experiments as represented by a hologram that doesn't even contain the unethical memories of the man it's modelled on (if Tabor is even correct about Moset as seen through his traumatized childhood memories). Would B'Elanna really have rather died? And while I approved Janeway's decision, I can't approve her reaction to B'Elanna's outrage. Once again, she proves dismissive of others' beliefs in a most unStarfleet way. That hard edge is making the character less and less sympathetic.

LESSON: One creature's "hello" is another's "let's do an alien autopsy!"

REWATCHABILITY - Medium: A lot of interesting elements in this episode (Crell Moset, the ethics, the alien), but they're forced down too narrow a plot tube to really work.

Spaceknight Saturdays: Ms. Marvel Guest-Stars!

Well, as much as Doctor Strange did in #5. I.e. in a flashback. But we'll get to that in a moment. As usual, I start with a few notes from the letters page. Issue 9's has 2 letters of interest. The first by one of those ubiquitous letter hack pseudonyms of the 80s, one Cosmic Critic of Columbus, Ohio, who loves Rom so much, he predicts it won't last beyond #20. Obviously, this guy has come out supporting such series as Chase, Manhunter, All-New Atom and Blue Beetle.

The other is from a kid asking if he can start a Spaceknight Fan Club. Mantlo certifies him right then and there. It's THAT easy.

So if you'll remember last week's issue (and if you don't, you do realize a blog archives everything, right?), Rom had fallen down a grave into large hollowed-out caves. He starts exploring and finds the Wraith equivalent of an elephant graveyard. It's all he can do not to squee.
Turns out to be the trophy room of Serpentyne the One-Eyed, the mysterious lizard man who was out killing Dire Wraiths in the previous issue.
Who is this Punisher of black magic alien body snatchers? An alien himself? Nope. He's a good old boy from down south.
Here's where Ms. Marvel comes in. A couple years before (our time), she'd met this Saurian race living underground, enslaving humans for fun and profit. She liberated them, made peace with the lizards, and had the slaves hypnotized so they couldn't remember what happened. Unfortunately, one of those humans was actually a Wraith in disguise, and the Great Levene has nothing on those guys. It went back to its coven and hatched a plan to genocide the mutated reptiles but good, and steal their cave complex. So yeah, Serpentyne has a pretty good reason to go after them.

So does Rom have a new ally then?
Nah. Serpentyne has gone over the deep end and the Wraiths must die only by HIS hand. No robot man from space is gonna steal HIS spotlight. A fight breaks out and speaking of deep ends, it goes from underground cave to underground pool...
...and back out again when Rom turns Serpentyne into a lobster roll. Disarmed of both sword and gun, Serp has to improvise:
But ooops! He should have watched where he was going. Those Wraith skulls are damn slippery!
And so the journey ends for Serpentyne. I'm afraid there's no walking away from that torso wound. Unless you're Rom. Then you definitely walk away. Maybe with a pithy soliloquy.
What about the Wraiths, you ask?

Yes, they're in this. Last issue, Steve Jackson's best friend Artie the Cop was almost killed by Wraithly plants, but rushed to the hospital just in time. Well, he dies off-panel on the operation table. Next time, get a referral if you can't be sure the surgeon ain't a Dire Wraith.
Dead giveaway: Smoking in a hospital. (Then again, it WAS 1980.)

BONUS TERRIFYING ADVERTISEMENT!

Rom Spaceknight swings between badass and terrifying, and is either way the perfect magazine to sell this toy in:
(Click for extra detail -- if you dare!) When does Gre-Gory get its OWN mag?

Star Trek 561: Infinite Regress

561. Infinite Regress

FORMULA: Masks + The Raven

WHY WE LIKE IT: Jeri Ryan's acting.

WHY WE DON'T: Something's wrong with that climax.

REVIEW: As Voyager nears a damaged Borg Cube, Seven starts exhibiting personalities from dozens of people she helped assimilate. The technological MacGuffin is that the heart of the Cube - the vinculum (definition: a ligament that limits the movement of an organ or part, but it's also got a similar meaning for algebra fans) - is malfunctioning and as it tries to re-assimilate Seven from a distance, it also prevents her from inhibiting those personalities.

Whatever the technological conceit used, it quickly turns into an acting showcase for Jeri Ryan who manages to create, quickly and effectively, half a dozen characters. She makes each one credible, from the little girl to the Ferengi, and is the real reason to keep watching. However, the "mirror images" are an odd directorial choice for a usually pretty naturalistic series, more Quantum Leap than Voyager.

There might not be enough emphasis on Seven essentially being confronted by her victims (perhaps because she's never really in the same room with them), but the episode does bring Seven and Naomi Wildman together. While it might be strategically unsound to throw two new characters together (thereby ignoring older characters in desperate need of attention), it makes aesthetic sense. They are the two daughters aboard ship, Sam's and Janeway's, and both must integrate into this "adult/Starfleet" society. Naomi's perception of Seven goes from bogeyman to friend here, and even dips into hero worship a little bit. If Neelix is her surrogate father, Seven is her surrogate big sister.

To provide excitement, the vinculum was actually infected with a virus by the interestingly attired Species 6339 (a similar computer virus-type ploy was abandoned by Picard in I,Borg, you might remember - some people are more ruthless). Sadly, the climax is all over the place and not very satisfying. Tuvok battles for Seven's soul in a mindmeld, but the personalities disappear as soon as B'Elanna unplugs the vinculum, so did he really need to go in? And as soon as that happens, Voyager gives the aliens the vinculum and they leave. No fuss, no muss. Basically just a reason for exploding consoles. Ah well.

LESSON: You can get out of the Borg Collective, but you should expect side-effects.

REWATCHABILITY - Medium: A great showcase for Ryan's acting (she certainly gets a chance to play roles that go against her casting), but a bit insubstantial otherwise.

Bonus Zenith Beat Down

Because I like to stay in-theme for these, and because Bahlactus commands it...Somebody's biorythm is at low ebb.

Morrison's First Phase

ZENITH PHASE I #1, Fleetway/Quality, reprinted from 2000 AD #535-540, 1987
Grant Morrison's first hit was Zenith, a strip that ran in the UK anthology comic 2000 AD. Over the years, Fleetway/Quality reprinted those comics for North American readers a couple times. Split into "phases", this is Phase I #1... That's the very start of Zenith! So, what's it about?

Zenith himself is a third-generation superhuman, and like any Gen-Xer worth his salt, he wants to be rock star, not a hero. He's the kind of guy who has to be told not to drink and fly.
But since it's a Grant Morrison superhero comic, there has to be some kind of funky power thing, and in Zenith's case, it's that it's tied into his bio-rhythm. See, Zenith doesn't have powers all month. He's one of the few superheroes I know who actually has a cycle. (Female superheroes don't have periods, that's what makes them super. It's not a "cycle" if you're stuck at PMS all the time... I'm looking your way, Power Girl!)

If you want to play historian, there are a lot of Morrison-isms here, stuff that will turn up in his future work. A collaboration with Steve Yeowell, for example. (I don't think he's such a hot superhero artist, but everyone looks pretty decent here. British supers just don't try to contort their bodies like Americans do.) Lovecraftian gods possessing humans (just like in The Invisibles), but they really need super-bodies, or else...
Yeah, that can't be pleasant.

And speaking of the Invisibles, hippie superheroes on LSD are also on view here.
"Mandala" was with the Beatles when they started tripping out and becoming a band more for my stoner friends than my mom. Today, he's an MP. I'm sure he never inhaled. Licked a frog or two, on the other hand...

I was never able to read all of Zenith (the last Phase likely won't be reprinted because of copyright issues), but Tim Callahan's book on Morrison fills in the blanks. There's a Crisis pastiche in Phase III that I wouldn't mind seeing, for one thing.

Star Trek 560: Timeless

560. Timeless

FORMULA: Hope and Fear + Cause and Effect + The Visitor

WHY WE LIKE IT: The gorgeous effects.

WHY WE DON'T: Not seeing enough of the future.

REVIEW: Voyager's 100th episode is marked with on screen celebrations for a quantum slipstream drive adapted from Arturis' technology, but we already know it's meant to fail, or else we wouldn't have had that beautiful opening shot of Voyager trapped under the ice. Only Harry and Chakotay survived the flight and now they're out to change history. Transitions between the two eras are deftly handled by director Levar Burton, keeping that sense of doom lurking.

Future Harry is a rather dour character, driven by survivor guilt. Chakotay is in a relationship with a girl called Tessa and here things get a little weird. It's a good woman indeed who'll help you change history and undo meeting the love of her life. The salvaged Doctor seems to be the only one with any perspective, even as he manhandles Seven's grisly remains (a frozen body is one thing, a piece of skull with an eye staring out is another). In any case, we don't see enough about this potential future to know what's at stake. Ok, Geordi La Forge is the sensible captain of the USS Challenger (cute cameo), but otherwise? It means nothing to us.

Of course, it still fails. In fact, though it's left a little ambiguous, Harry may have caused the accident in the first place. Then again, the temporal stuff in Voyager rarely makes absolute sense, and we're at a point where each time it comes up, Janeway makes a speech about not even trying to (pointed squarely at the audience, I'm sure). At least it gives us the chance to see the actual crash, and once again, it's a beautiful shot. The Doctor offers the obvious solution: Just contact them before and not so close to the wire. Must've heard me screaming at the television for the past 10 minutes.

Voyager still cuts 10 years off its journey with this little stunt, which again begs the question (as in Hope and Fear) as to why you can't quantum fly until you reach the phase variance, stop, repeat? I also wonder how much better than Arturis' drive this is. 10 YEARS in only a few minutes? It's just too much for the crew not to try again.

LESSON: The Borg can't hold their liquor. Even synthehol which isn't real alcohol. Even if they try to adapt.

REWATCHABILITY - Medium: I was expecting a High, but aside from some great effects, there's not much too it. Cartoon motivations and rampant illogic plague this otherwise stylish time travel story.