The Most Uncivil Civil War

 

Because of its ambitious crossover status, those of use who took an interest in Marvel's 2006-07 Civil War event were obliged to tweak its promotional slogan--"Whose side are you on?"--into something more practical: "Which books will you read?" Many of us probably just winged it, depending on our preferences, but for the most part we probably simply picked up the main seven-issue limited series in order to chart the progress and keep apprised of the clashes between the two major sides of the conflict, while deriving more substantive reading from the event's many, many tie-in books which offered greater perspective from those characters who were either directly or indirectly affected by the event, and certainly more in-depth examinations of their choices and feelings on the situation than what writer Mark Millar could provide for them in the core title. Yet it's Millar's work that we indeed turn our focus on here, since it is the book that all the others orbit around--and what takes place there allows him to pass the baton to his fellow writers, who take the handoff and shepherd their characters through whatever stage the conflict is currently at.

Several key developments, for instance, occur in Millar's story which other titles have already broached in one way or another. The repercussions of the incident in Stamford, CT; heroes attempting to take the temperature of both the government and the public; the swift passage of the Super-Human Registration Act; and of course the taking of sides which signify which heroes are resisting the SHRA and which are enforcing it. Given that the tie-ins are providing character-specific coverage of these developments and others that are relevant, Millar has the luxury of providing just enough detail to pique our interest and allow the story to gain momentum and keep it moving, all of which he handles well enough.

The Travesty Of Vengeance

 

Can YOU

Name This Marvel Villain??

Gene Colan's Final Story for Marvel

Artist Gene Colan, who passed away in June of 2011, turned in his final full-length comics work just over two years earlier, capping a career spanning over six decades (which included commissions work, to the delight of his fans) and bidding farewell to a red, white and blue character he worked on with Stan Lee from mid-1969 until the early '70s.

With no inker assigned to the story, the issue is a splendid showcase of Colan's talent in its purest form, even well past his prime--with colorist Dean White helping to bring the pages to vivid life. As for the story itself, however, it might leave you with the impression that the issue is something of a one-shot, with Colan's large, canvas-style scenes curtailing any scripting nuances which writer Ed Brubaker provides, while Brubaker himself appears to be giving Colan a wide berth and providing narrative and dialog only as needed. As such, the story regrettably suffers, both in conception and in execution--a tale of vampires attacking a Belgium village, along with the remnants of two U.S. army platoons within which Cap and Bucky are stationed. Not the usual fare we would expect in a wartime flashback tale, though the type of story which The Invaders had opened the door to often enough.

The story's events stem from a present-day conversation between Nick Fury and Bucky, involving the conflicts of the Civil War crossover which had heroes on both sides of the conflict turning on one another--which then serves to segue us to the past, where our soldiers are being turned into vampires and preying on their fellow soldiers, with Cap's priority being clear: find the vampire who is to blame for the initial attack and destroy him. But Brubaker, taking his cues from Colan's art, is obliged to offer one red herring after another in the search for the principal vampire before finally revealing the true culprit to Cap and Bucky--only to abruptly end the story seconds after the climax has begun to unfold, while offering only token resolution in the form of Bucky providing a piece of trivia to Fury (which we'll get to in a moment).

During the post-Stan Lee part of his career, it's fair to wonder if Colan was ever in the habit of conferring more closely with the writer of the book he was working on in order for both writer and artist to be on the same page, as it were, in regard to having a more detailed understanding of the plot beyond the basic characters involved, given that this doesn't appear to be the case here.* That said, Colan arguably lays sufficient groundwork for the writer to pen at least a more coherent story, which might have benefited from less of an impulse to let the art stand on its own.

*It would certainly be helpful to have the thoughts of this book's editor at the time, Tom Brevoort, on the subject.


But with our focus primarily on Colan, his work here makes for a splendid final act to make his exit on. Reportedly suffering from glaucoma and progressively reduced vision since the '90s, the quality of Colan's work nevertheless spoke for itself, and one would have been hard-pressed to detect any hint of his condition in these pages. To have seen this story followed up with a Dr. Strange tale... well, a guy can dream.

The clues that Cap and Bucky gather eventually lead back to a village child who's been seen carrying food and water, and who was last seen in the company of one of the latest victims. Yet it turns out this child hasn't been among the living for four years.

As we've seen, the story ends abruptly as Bucky brings ourselves and Fury back to the present, where he offers one last tidbit of information: Bucky and Cap didn't return with the platoons to join up with Gen. Patton in the south, but were instead sent back to England to guard an experimental plane--an assignment which led to Zemo's island in the English channel, and a pivotal moment in time for Captain America.

Your mileage may certainly vary as to what degree this story worked for you, though I'm hoping your one takeaway is the caliber of work which its distinguished artist has produced at the twilight of his career. Do take the opportunity to sample Mr. Colan's talent in any number of other comics forums where he surely has a presence--though you can be assured that you'll see his renowned and unique artistry continue to be featured in the PPC.

The Final Battle of Captain America

It starts with a familiar scene: Captain America, leaping into a dangerous situation without hesitation in order to save lives, using the time-tested skill and daring that have made him a living legend.

But despite appearances, something is not right here. And the hero of the day displays an edge, an attitude, that is atypical of the Captain America we know--yet normal behavior for this man. So much so that he must be confronted by the only one suited to rein him in.

Yes, two living legends, but only one who would truly be deserving of such a description. And it is well past time that both men took a meeting, and talked--though only one of them has words which the other needs to hear.

The Plan To Reclaim America

In the fall of 2008, we saw the surprising return of William Burnside, the Captain America of the 1950s, who presumably had met his end in a 1979 story when making a fatal attempt to break free of the hold of Dr. Faustus, who had effectively shattered his identity as Captain America by first having him murder his young partner, Bucky, and then installing him as the Grand Director of a white supremacist group. Incredibly, the super-soldier serum which he'd administered to himself and Bucky (in the hope that they could help the legend of the original Cap and Bucky live on) was a factor in his survival then; but he awakened only to find that Faustus was conditioning him for another task, this time furthering the agenda of the Red Skull.

Once that scheme had met defeat, Burnside slipped away in the confusion, only to resurface in early 2010--having finally been left to himself to pick up the pieces of his life and move forward in some way as Captain America, his unbalanced mind still rejecting the America that he'd found himself in. To that end, he returns to his roots in Boise, Idaho, where writer Ed Brubaker lets us inside that mind to get a sense of what preoccupies this man.

It's a fine line that Brubaker walks in his narrative, given how rare it is that someone who is insane has the presence of mind to acknowledge that fact to the point of struggling to suppress it. Burnside's success rate in that respect has been practically nil--for instance, perhaps the moment in '72 in which he recognized that he'd been venting his rage against the original Captain America... and of course when, as the Grand Director, he attempted to break away from Faustus. Apart from those times, he's pursued objectives that no clear-headed individual would rationalize as respectable, much less worthy of the ideals held by Captain America.

And so it's unfortunate he lands in a city where there resides an organization almost tailor-made to his goals, and to the methods he's willing to use to attain them.

Pawn Of The Red Skull!

Following the 1972 introduction of William Burnside, the mentally unstable Captain America of the 1950s--and his subsequent fall from grace at having to be brought down by the Captain America he idolized--there seemed to be no hope for recovery for this man whose good intentions at filling the shoes of his wartime hero were tragically undone by his twisted vision of what America, and what the ideal American, should be. Almost immediately intercepted by the villainous Dr. Faustus after being taken into custody, "Cap" was thereafter conditioned into assuming a new identity as the Grand Director, the figurehead of a white supremacist organization called the National Force; but when Faustus was confronted by the real Cap, the Director made a drastic choice when Faustus insisted he attack his namesake, and instead activated a device on his person which incinerated him.

As for Jack Monroe, Burnside's young sidekick, "Bucky"--who came clean with the real Captain America and went on to assume Cap's discarded identity as the Nomad--he would later meet his death at the hands of James Barnes, the original Bucky, who had been conscripted by the Russians as the assassin known as the Winter Soldier but who was later freed of his mental enslavement and in time took on the identity of Captain America, at Cap's behest. As we'll discover, that irony will not be lost on one of the principal characters of the story the PPC spotlights today.

And that story begins nearly thirty years later (our time), as S.H.I.E.L.D. agent Sharon Carter, who herself had been manipulated by Faustus into killing Captain America following the events of Civil War, has infiltrated the lair of Faustus and his associates, the Red Skull and Arnim Zola, where she discovers someone who appears to be Steve Rogers--a man she knows to be dead by her own hand. Yet when she investigates further, she confirms the identity of this man: another "Captain America" who should be dead, and, given his appearance, has her recalling his fate as part of the National Force.

A slight error on writer Ed Brubaker's part--in the earlier story, scripter Michael Fleisher made it clear that the Director took his own life as opposed to any prompting from Faustus (though it could be argued that Faustus's manipulative handling of Burnside "made" him take such a step to break free of his conditioning). But though Sharon isn't privy to how Burnside survived, nor what has affected his memory, she means to see to it that his involvement in this plot, whether consensual or not, ends now.

Some of you will recognize Aleksander Lukin, who played a key part in bringing the Soldier out of stasis to further a plot to gain the Cosmic Cube; and if so, you also know of his relationship with (or, rather, "connection" to) the Skull, who will also play a part in this drama.

Faustus, as it turns out, not only still has his hooks in Burnside, but also in Sharon--though it's his expertise involving the former character which holds interest for the Skull and Zola.

The Unknown Soldier

The concept of the Winter Soldier, introduced by Ed Brubaker and Steve Epting in the fall of 2005, played out well in both the Captain America comic and its film adaptation nine years later--with the basic presentation of the Soldier as a Soviet operative during the Cold War remaining intact, while differing in the methods by which Cap discovers that his former partner did not meet his death in a tragic accident during the closing days of World War II and had instead been co-opted as a ruthless assassin carrying out assignments sporadically through the decades.

At the time, Brubaker's story was considered both bold and controversial, the character of Bucky Barnes having been one of the last bastions of those who had been sent to the grave and permitted to remain there, escaping the fate of being brought back for shock value and thus debasing the powerful ripple effect that their deaths would generate for future stories. Bucky has "returned" in one form or another... as a delusion of Dr. Faustus, or as a tool used by M.O.D.O.K., or as the chosen partner of the Cap of the 1950s who bore a resemblance to the real McCoy; but I was certainly one of those who would have bet my entire collection on the assumption that Marvel would never have given serious thought to undoing the death that had haunted Steve Rogers and, as a result, added a great deal of dimension to a man struggling to find his place in the 20th century. No--this was the one character who couldn't, wouldn't be exhumed. Even in fiction, some things were sacrosanct.

Phooey. I was "dead" wrong, of course (to say nothing of relieved that no one had taken that bet)--and in hindsight, the Winter Soldier served to add another level of tragedy to the story of Bucky Barnes, and, by extension, Captain America. And after all, unless you were invested in the character of Bucky from reading the Captain America comics of the 1940s or from his appearances in the pages of The Invaders, you'd really only have one brief scene from The Avengers #4--the purpose of which was to account for Cap's disappearance in the last days of the war--on which to base your impressions of Cap's young partner, and of his death. All things considered, it would seem to be a character ripe for a new plot, and, with the right story, a new life.

While both Brubaker's story and the film have strong merits and both stand very well on their own, the differences between their plots are really quite interesting--mainly, the fact that originally it's the Cosmic Cube that figures centrally in Cap's discovery of Bucky's activities as the Soldier. There is also the figure of Aleksander Lukin, a rogue Soviet general and CEO of the Kronas Corporation, who discovers the Soldier in stasis and has him murder the Red Skull to obtain what is at this point a damaged Cube. Lukin then proceeds to carry out a revenge plot against Cap--first, by having the Soldier kill Jack Monroe, the 1950s Bucky who had eventually been taken under Cap's wing and later assumed the costumed identity of the Nomad, and then having the Soldier set off a WMD in Philadelphia designed by A.I.M. to recharge the Cube while setting up Monroe as the fall guy.

But in a S.H.I.E.L.D. briefing conducted by Nick Fury and Agent 13 (Sharon Carter), Cap learns there is much more to the Philadelphia bombing, including the possibility of a new suspect--a Soviet operative and Cold War assassin who is disturbingly familiar to everyone in the room.

Long Live The King!

In Part 2 of the PPC's look at the 2006 six-issue series Books Of Doom, we reach the point where Victor von Doom has been contacted by a member of a sect of monks from a temple in Tibet, who, with his dying wish, implores him to seek them out and learn their secrets of science and magic and realize his destiny. The offer comes at a crucial time for Victor, following his expulsion from Empire State University due to an unauthorized experiment that critically injured another student and left his own face scarred and bandaged. Wandering Europe, he'd been found and comforted by the woman he loves, Valeria, who was attempting to convince him to return with her to Latveria; instead, he decides to attempt to find the temple in the vastness of the Himalayas, which long-time readers of Doom's history will recognize as the place where the character will eventually emerge as Doctor Doom.

The story by writer Ed Brubaker and artist Pablo Raimondi, having dispensed with the preliminaries of the events which set Victor on the path that would lead to the adoption of his armored identity, will now have an opportunity to expand on Stan Lee's brief scenes of Doom's stay at the mysterious sanctuary where a group of monks nursed Victor back to health after his pilgrimage, a journey that in Brubaker's telling would prove more dangerous to Victor than simply the weakened condition he was left in following his grueling exposure to the elements. There's also the obvious dissimilarity of the character's motivation for making such a trek in the first place, which in Lee's tale was the result of Doom's anguished desire to hide his ravaged face "from the sight of mankind." It's interesting to see how each version makes use of elements from other characters' origin stories from the '60s; for instance, the Mole Man retreated to his subterranean world in order to shun those above who mocked his appearance--while Stephen Strange was another who sought a temple in the Himalayas, in the hopes of repairing his damaged hands. With K'un-Lun also located in Tibet, the Chinese would be wise to start thinking of tapping into the tourist trade by mapping all the hidden temples in the region. (While giving the resident monks a cut of the profits, naturally.)

For now, however, our focus is Victor von Doom, who strides forward to meet his destiny.

Doom, Ascendant!

For a more contemporary take on the 1964 origin of Dr. Doom, you may be interested in checking out a six-issue series from 2006 written by Ed Brubaker, and narrated by the Master of Menace himself. The series covers the period from Doom's childhood to his seizure of the throne of Latveria from King Vladmir (the former Baron whom he blamed for the persecution of his gypsy tribe and the loss of his parents); as a result, Books Of Doom has no real draw beyond the name recognition of its deadly and complicated subject, which is virtually a non-issue since Doom has always proven to be a bankable character for Marvel (at least until he crossed over into cinematic ventures).

The reader may also be reluctant to invest time in this story because of the series' perplexing title, which suggests that they're in for a mundane exploration of the character's motivations and thoughts while giving the impression of a diary or journal approach to its narrative. To be honest, well after finishing the series, I found myself wondering, "Wait--what 'books'? What's the title referring to?" His studies abroad? Some sort of allusion to the doomed path he set himself on? The spell books of Doom's witch-mother, the preoccupation of which would not only open the door to an affinity with science but would lead to a lifelong obsession to free her from her damnation? The title's true meaning always felt as if it were right in front of me, yet remains elusive to me to this day.

Nevertheless, this story is a compelling one, with a solid script by Brubaker and breathtaking interior art by Pablo Raimondi that's belied by the impressionist style of the series' cover artist, Paolo Rivera. There are many things that will be familiar to anyone who knows of either the '64 origin tale in its entirety or any of its details passed down through subsequent stories in one form or another; yet there are also a number of variations that go beyond items that other writers have from time to time used to supplement the original story in order to fill in gaps without altering the authentic version. One minor example in this case would be from the Lee/Kirby tale, when the young Victor von Doom is visited in his tribal camp by the Dean of Science from New York's Empire State University, who offers Doom a scholarship; whereas in Brubaker's telling, the visitor is a U.S. general who offers Doom a position at a lab facility near the university to develop technology for the military, though he'll also be enrolled in classes at ESU--the same deal that's cut with Reed Richards. It seems counterproductive to the expectations the military brass have for both of these men, since anyone who's ever attended a university could tell you that a college course load is bound to sap a considerable amount of the time Doom and Richards are meant to devote to their lab work; unfortunately, Brubaker doesn't really justify splitting their time thus, except to conform to Lee's story.

Yet try not to jump to conclusions based on an alteration like this that occurs almost right out of the gate; instead, for now, regard the variations you'll encounter as a writer's prerogative to offer a different interpretation of prior events, and be assured that the overall structure of Brubaker's story will become clear in due time.

Until then, allow this series' host to beckon you onward.

Even In Death...

Just as the Avengers/Invaders series was winding down in 2009, a compelling story was taking place in the pages of Captain America which also revisited the members of the super-team from the 1940s--or, in this case, what was left of them. Written by Ed Brubaker and drawn by Steve Epting, Butch Guice, and Luke Ross, the story covers events from three time periods, which are briefly broken down as follows:

• Shanghai, 1942--Captain America, Bucky, the Human Torch, and the Sub-Mariner were part of a secret operation to rescue Professor Zhang Chin, a top Chinese scientist who, at age 12, was already something of a super-genius.
• Beijing, 1968--as the Winter Soldier, Barnes is sent by his Russian handlers to eliminate Chin, now a grown man. Barnes fails when he runs into Chin's bodyguard/agent, the Man With No Face, and is forced to withdraw.
• New York, present day--Barnes, now in the role of Captain America following the assassination of Steve Rogers, is following leads on the activities of Batroc, who's been commissioned to steal something currently in the custody of the United Nations. The mystery deepens when Batroc attacks a U.N. convoy transporting the "package," and Barnes finds himself again facing the Man With No Face.

If you're getting the impression that connecting the dots in this story is going to take some time, welcome to a textbook Brubaker tale--yet it's one of this writer's strengths, since his way of pacing a story places the reader practically in the midst of its characters where they virtually become part of the chain of events, putting the pieces together along with those who are directly involved. True, things tend to fall into place piecemeal, and slowly--but the characters don't suffer for it, while the reader becomes more deeply involved in the overall plot and finds their attention almost riveted. It's a consistent style that served Brubaker well on his very acclaimed run on the book.

The trigger for Barnes realizing that there's much more to Batroc's endgame appears to be the sudden presence of the Man With No Face in the convoy attack, who already knows that it's Barnes in the Captain America uniform and whose taunting words to Barnes indicate not only their prior meeting but also a much deeper plot in play here. A "failed" experiment of Chin's from the 1950s, the Man With No Face (consistently named "The Man Without A Face" in the book's introductory recaps, for whatever reason) had been China's attempt at their own super-soldier gone wrong, ending up being more spy than soldier, though no less effective--no longer human, unable to eat or sleep, but an agent who could fade in and out of shadows and whose abilities include becoming intangible and bringing down his enemies much like the Vision can. It was during the attack by the Man With No Face in the Winter Soldier's mission to kill Chin in '68 that Barnes was able to get a good look at Chin's experiments on human subjects before aborting his mission, which makes Barnes wonder if and why Chin has an interest in this particular operation.

It's a question that isn't unanswered for long, as the U.N. "package" is successfully extracted by Batroc's crew--and to his utter shock, Barnes recognizes its contents.

The Avengers You Shouldn't Have Heard Of

Following the fall of Normal Osborn from power, Steve Rogers may well have been the busiest man in the country--aside from Marvel's accountants, who were busily raking in the cash in the wake of a string of sales events that had finally run their course, which included Civil War (2006-07), World War Hulk (2007), Secret Invasion (2008), Dark Reign (2008-09), and Siege (2010). Rogers, accepting a request from the President, agreed to become the country's new "top cop," the fourth such appointee after Nick Fury, Tony Stark, and Osborn--but with the provision that he would be allowed to do things his way. Since we're talking about Steve Rogers, that may not be as alarmingly carte blanche as it sounds, as it might have coming from the likes of Osborn or even Stark; rather, he probably had a few conditions to be met, one of which likely came as no surprise to anyone--the repeal of the Superhuman Registration Act, legislation which he literally fought against and which had to be the first condition to be met.

And then Rogers went right to work, rebuilding the country's spirit and morale in a way that would once again inspire confidence in its heroes.

(The caption "top cop of the world" is overstating Rogers' position just a tad, since a presidential appointment wouldn't mean squat to other countries that would be aghast at the suggestion that Rogers has jurisdiction inside their borders. Not even S.H.I.E.L.D., which operated internationally, could claim that kind of extraterritoriality.)

But since Rogers is, in the end, a marketing tool of a real-life comics company, his initiatives included the establishment of several teams of Avengers whose members would have cross-appeal to readers across the Marvel spectrum.

But where would Rogers--a dynamic and essential character in his own right, and too valuable an asset to leave on the sidelines--end up in this big picture? Given how closely he holds the Avengers in his life, wouldn't he helm one of the teams? Not the main team, from the sound of it:

Taking his place there would be Maria Hill--while Victoria Hand would helm the New Avengers. I might have picked Rogers for the Academy, since he would be building and molding new Avengers members from the ground up, something he excels at--but Hank Pym, Justice, Quicksilver, Tigra, and Speedball (good lord, really?) were assigned to be its faculty.

But while apparently Rogers would have his hands in all sorts of matters that relate to law enforcement operations, he definitely had an Avengers team in mind for himself whenever he felt the need for that team to assemble--his own little special operations strike team, consisting of War Machine, Ant-Man, the Beast, the Valkyrie, Black Widow, Nova, Moon Knight, and Sharon Carter.

There are certain problems associated with the "secret Avengers" concept that would normally raise concerns as far as Rogers' association with them. The term "black ops" has often been used to describe them, which implies that whatever measures they use to conduct their operations aren't generally authorized, and that their missions are "off the books" and cannot be traced back to any government sanction (think the fictional Impossible Missions Force). There's also the group's unofficial, strictly commercial name itself--something of a misnomer since, to Rogers, this is simply a more specialized group of Avengers undertaking covert missions... at least, that's what we're left to assume. He certainly isn't forthcoming to Stark or any of the Avengers selected for the other groups about his plan to suit up with his new team; and a group discovered to be conducting its operations in secret would not only set off all sorts of alarms as far as Rogers walking down the same road as Stark during his period in power, but would also associate Rogers with a group that operates in the same way as the Illuminati, which Rogers harbored strong objections against.

All we really have to clarify Rogers' thinking on the matter are captions in the first issue which are presumably in his own words:

Picture the U.S. government signing off on something as indistinct as that. In addition, just two years prior, Cyclops established a similar modus operandi when he rebuilt X-Force, another pre-emptive covert team which became one of the reasons why the Beast decided to leave the X-Men, feeling like Cyclops had crossed one line too many. Apparently he feels Rogers won't be spilling the blood that Cyclops authorized X-Force to do.

As to the other members, Rogers has balanced them reasonably well, with a few question marks. Black Widow is a no-brainer, given her background in covert assignments and her ability as a trained fighter--while James Rhodes, as War Machine, is a former soldier who has experience with intelligence gathering and of course the Iron Man armor. The Valkyrie brings to the table Asgardian strength and stamina; Nova, his cosmic frame of reference; the Beast, his scientific acumen. Moon Knight is a curious choice, even though he also specializes in covert operations--but he appears to have misgivings about formally joining a team environment.

Former SHIELD member Eric O'Grady is a virtual rookie in this group, his duties having been minor with the espionage agency--yet Rogers no doubt realizes that the Ant-Man would be an indispensable asset to the assignments these Avengers would undertake. Obviously Rogers feels he needs to use a firm approach with O'Grady, if his rather curt pitch to him is any indication.

And aside from her personal connection to Rogers, Sharon brings her SHIELD training and experience in the field, though her role appears to be mostly as a base contact and reserve agent.

The team's first mission--to another planet, no less--comes about after a raid on a Roxxon Oil facility uncovers a serpent crown, though the Valkyrie understandably has some settling-in to do as far as being a field agent.