With Dark Horse’s new retro-fitted Magnus: Robot Fighter, Jim Shooter takes us back to the year 4000 and the futuristic city of New Am, a technological haven where robots fulfil every duty from policing the streets to working as effeminate robo-butlers (presumably preset with English accents). But the machines are also implemented in crime, acting as “thug-bots” for human gangsters, a threat that only robot fighter Magnus is capable of thwarting. Magnus was raised from an early age by an AI named 1A, see, who forged him into a physical and mental paragon capable of destroying droids with his bare hands.

In fact, Magnus is so efficient at dispatching with rogue robots that he requires neither weapons nor trousers, instead fighting crime in a red dress so short that it makes Zapp Brannigan’s uniform look macho in comparison. But Magnus is not the only one who’s underdressed; the two female characters we’re introduced to in this issue – which deals with the robotic kidnapping of several wealthy humans – are both first seen leaping from bed in their lingerie. When Magnus’s long-time friend Leeja Clane finally does get dressed, the fiery redhead still seems determined to outdo Magnus in the scantily clad stakes.

Magnus: Robot Fighter #1

But hey, it’s easy to push such ridiculous dress codes aside when these curvaceous lasses (and, er, lad) are illustrated by Bill Reinhold, whose art is so convincingly retro that only Wes Dzioba’s fresh colours break the illusion that you’re reading a comic straight out of the 1960s. From dome-headed droids to New Am’s immaculate cityscapes the art is an absolute joy, and helps set Magnus: Robot Fighter apart from other po-faced reboots.

Behind the visuals, though, there’s not an awful lot to ‘Metal Mob Part One’. Jim Shooter’s adherence to the Silver Age approach to storytelling is admirable, but he doesn’t do a whole lot more with the character or setting than revisit the comics of yesterday. The welcome inclusion of Gold key Comics’ first ever Magnus story, originally printed in 1963, only serves to further emphasise that Shooter’s new series is more of a reiteration than a follow-on. While a more contemporised reboot would most definitely not have suited Russ Manning’s bot brawler, I felt that Magnus #1 needed to better justify the robot fighter’s return.

5/10

The Guild is one of those cult online shows that I’ve read nothing but praise for, yet despite my best attempts have so far struggled to “get”. Part of this may be down to my newly realised aversion to MMORPGs, but also the fact that outside of the lovely Felicia Day the rest of the cast aren’t exactly convincing.

The Guild #1 - Felicia Day

Anyway, I figured that The Guild: The Comic, also written by Day, would feature the humour that has earned the show numerous awards but without the budget constraints and straight-out-of-college acting. This issue acts as an origin story of sorts, detailing Cyd Sherman’s unfulfilled life before she discovered the life-affirming joys of endless grinding and fetch quests, and met her fellow Knights of Good.

The art in this issue is interesting, with Jim Rugg rendering Cyd’s reality and her online initiation in distinctly different art styles. Whereas Cyd’s mundane day-to-day life is drawn in a conventional comic style, the online portions are quite beautifully painted, with the game’s exotic fantasy landscapes frequently disrupted by the player’s dull, dimly lit households. Rugg’s faces are somewhat inconstant, but this may in part be due to Felicia’s natural loveliness; as opposed to the botoxed, Megan Fox clones that Hollywood practically manufactures with glossy posters and comic book covers in mind.

From a newb’s perspective this first issue was an enjoyable and surprisingly light read. The humour wasn’t as sharp as I’d expected, but neither is this series in any way cynical. Whereas many writers would feel the need to bitterly poke fun at The Guild’s subject matter, Felicia Day’s semi-autobiographical of discontented loners finding one another in a virtual realm instead concentrates on MMO gaming’s ability to bring people together. Which is not only kind of nice, but perhaps explains why the series has gathered such a devoted following.

7/10

Anyone who got into comics during the early nineties will likely have fond memories of Dark Horse’s numerous movie tie-ins, the most successful of which by far was Aliens vs. Predator and its thousand or so predecessors. Well, having recently resurrected the Alien and Predator series individually, Dark Horse is once more pitting those popular extra-terrestrials against each other.

New readers may find ‘Three World War’ (quite possibly the worst title ever) a little confusing, as it features Machiko Noguchi, the protagonist of the original AvP miniseries and the AvP: War sequel, which are both still superior examples of franchise crossovers.

Alien vs. Predator: Three World War #1

After a human mining colony is wiped out by a group of Predator’s manipulating leashed Xenomorphs, Machiko, who now runs a big game hunting venture, is enlisted by the Colonial Marines. It turns out that these Predators are not the usual ‘hunters’ we’ve seen in the past, but ‘killers’, a renegade clan long though dead. Whereas most Predators will only attack worthy adversaries, these pariahs are totally indiscriminate in who/what they kill.

While Three World War is looking to be yet another mediocre entry in the Aliens vs. Predator series, less particular readers will still find enough to enjoy. Stradley confidently lays out the basic premise, as well as briefly recapping Machiko’s back-story, while artist Rick Leonardi handles both the dynamic violence and dialogue driven moments with considerable flair.

So… Alien vs. Predator: Three World War, is a competently told tale that is entertaining if neither original nor memorable. Were you honestly expecting anything more?

6/10

The universe Bioware have forged for Mass Effect is nothing short of magnificent, but it doesn’t take a particularly keen eye to spot the problem in expanding this blossoming space opera franchise into other media. While the promotional material for the recently released sequel may show the “canon” male Shepard, Bioware are clearly intent on letting each player feel as though their lovingly crafted protagonist – and the decisions he made – is their own.

Mass Effect: Redemption #2

Consequently, the omission of Commander Shepard floats like a black hole at the centre of Mass Effect: Redemption – as well as the second Mass Effect novel, Ascension – and it’s a shame that, as with the better Star Wars comic spin-offs, Dark Horse have not opted for an unrelated character in another part of this potentially multifaceted world.

Nevertheless, the supporting cast in both games are all interesting enough to maintain a four-part miniseries, and though asari fan favourite Liara T’Soni is a fan favourite, she’s also a complicated character to write: as Liara may/may not (deleted where applicable) have had a relationship with Shepard, it is only ever ambiguously hinted upon.

But Mac Walters and John Jackson Miller have formed a decent enough story here, with Liara being recruited by Cerberus’s head honcho the Illusive Man to retrieve Shepard’s corpse. With Spepard conveniently spending this series in a coffin, we’ll hopefully get to see why Liara had transformed into a hard-nosed bitch with a grudge for the Shadow Broker in Mass Effect 2, and Liara’s shifty drell aid, Feron, also presents us a further look of the new race that debuts in the video game sequel.

Omar Francia’s art continues to perfectly capture the sleek designs, racial diversity and stark interiors of the video game – even if Liara has changed proportions somewhat – but I still feel that Atiyeh’s colours are too bright at times, and lacking in the neon-lit shadows that made Omega so compelling in the actual game.

Nevertheless, Mass Effect: Redemption is a fine looking book with a more than adequate story. It’s hardly a literary accomplishment, but it was never intended as such, and fans of the budding Mass Effect property won’t be disappointed.

7/10

Mass Effect - asari Liara T'soni

Doctor Horrible’s Sing-Along Blog was one of those odd cult hits that came out of nowhere yet was instantly embraced by pretty much anyone with a love for Joss Whedon, superheroes or good comedy. Naturally, the music has been omitted for this one-off origin tale, but everything else that made the Sing-Along Blog so charming has remained in tact.

Dr. Horrible Comic Review

Beginning with Horrible’s bullied childhood to his first criminal escapade and run-in with Captain Hammer, Zack Whedon effortlessly recaptures the same level of humour that made the mini-miniseries so damn good. Joëlle Jones’s simple but expressive depictions look like the designs for an abandoned animated spin-off, and compliment Whedon’s dialogue-driven humour perfectly.

This special does however suffer the usual prequel trappings. While Horrible’s relationship with his sweaty sidekick Moist is furthered explored here to hilarious effect, the inclusion of laundromat love interest Penny only serves to remind us that we already know how tragically this story ends. But if plans for a TV sequel never transpire, then Zack Whedon should at least write a follow-up miniseries with Jones returning to do the art. I’d snap it up without a second’s thought.

8/10

Sugarshock! originally debuted as part of the Myspace Dark Horse Presents project, from which it somehow went on to win an Eisner Award for Best Digital Comic. The only possible reasons I can come up with for Sugar Shock (not entirely sure on the exact spelling of the title) winning such an accolade are:

a) it was written by a big name writer, and therefore more likely to prosper from the award, b) it was at the time one of the few webcomic produced by a prominent publisher, and therefore got noticed more than other, better efforts, and c) whoever judges these things considered the category as completely trivial, and nominated whatever piece of fluff entered their periphery.

Sugar Shock! - Joss Whedon

Anyway, the planet-hopping adventures of Dandelion and her fellow rock chicks have been compiled into this here volume. Sugarshock is the kind of pretentious nonsense that revels in its own quirkiness. Joss Whedon is indisputably talented, but here he casually shoves numerous pop culture elements into one colourful package and utilises the old “it wasn’t supposed to make sense” clause to justify a comic that is so in love with itself that each zany one-liner and stupid, stupid plot twists will probably be considered genius by pink-haired fifteen year-olds.

… or maybe I’m just old, and Sugarshock’s blue bugglegum flavour (taste your copy and see for yourself) just wasn’t designed for my palate. The outstanding art by Fábio Moon and Dave Stewart just about manages to hold everything together, and there’s likely to be more than a fair share of people who dig what Whedon has done here.

5/10

One thing that always baffles me is why, outside of buffoons like The Simpson’s Comic Book Guy, there are so few bona fide geeks in science fiction or fantasy. Sure, peculiar intellectuals can bring their idiosyncrasies to a team of nonspecific, perfect-toothed clones, such as CSI’s Gil Grissom or Dr Gregory House. Some lucky losers even make it to the top tier of awkwardness that is technical expert or info dispersing nerd – the Lone Gunmen, Marshall Flinkman from Alias and the treasured Q being just a few. And then, of course, there are Hollywood geeks, such as Chuck, or Sandra Bullock’s unlikely computer nerd in The Net… but these guys are always far too attractive or socially proficient to prove authentic outcasts.

The Helm TPB

The Helm’s portly protagonist Matt Blurdy has all of the physical failings and social ineptitude that geekdom brings but none of its ineffectual charms. In his thirties, working a dead end job and still living in his mother’s basement – here in Blighty houses rarely have basements, so I’ve never suffered that predicament – Blurdy’s life is turned upside down when destiny finds its place atop cranium in the form of an ancient talking helmet he discovers at a rather unlikely garage sale.

The enchanted accessory mistakes him for “the Chosen One,” or Valhalladrim, only to realise after several seconds upon his head that it’s gravely mistaken. Despite the helmet’s rebuffs, the desperately skint Blurdy slips it into his jacket and takes it home. Thus begins a riotous comic act, with our cowardly slob put through a series of increasingly gruelling trials by a mentor who would quite happily see him dead, if only so he can find himself another Valhalladrim – while the mystical Helm grants Blurdy numerous powers, the one ability it doesn’t have is to sprout legs and locate a superior host. Likewise, Blurdy isn’t particularly likeable, and doesn’t inhibit an inner desire to do good, but he doesn’t exactly abuse his newfound power. Essentially, he’s a harmless layabout who probably doesn’t deserve the predicament he’s in.

Of course, the one requirement of a preposterous plot such as this is that it must be funny, and I’m glad to say that The Helm made me laugh more than any book has in a long while. The titular Helm’s steady insults, (“Vile baseborn varlet!”) presumably a take on Stan Lee’s The Mighty Thor, are utterly hilarious throughout. Jim Hardison, a screenwriter and director new to comics, wisely keeps the plot’s scope compact, feeding us the possibility throughout that the passage of the unlikely Valhalladrim may be fabricated entirely in Blurdy’s head. Conveniently, no one else witnesses his valiant deeds or hears the helmet speak.

More so than the various monster and sorcerers Blurdy faces in the name of heroics, perhaps the biggest threat to his destiny is his geek-chic girlfriend Jill. Perhaps the biggest niggle I have with the book is with how Jill is depicted; whereas the slovenly Matt comes complete with an immense paunch and drooping man-tits, she’s an attractive and unrealistically buxom comic book cliché. I’m aware that most male loafers probably dream of a Barbie doll partner, but it would have been nice if Jill was just a little more on Blurdy’s level.

Though the book’s promotional material publicises art by Bart Sears, he was in fact only responsible for the cover and breakdowns, with Randy Elliott finishing the art. Elliott’s illustrations aren’t nearly as sharp as Sear’s, but this is still a nice looking book, even if Blurdy, his domineering mother and Jill do look horrifyingly sinister at times. But the magical headwear’s face plate is the star of this tale, a moustachioed metallic curmudgeon who takes the greatest pleasure in trumpeting Blurdy’s every failing, and gleams prominently via Dan Jackson’s colours.

With its pathetic but progressively amiable “hero” and Hardison’s knack for playing along with fantasy conventions rather than rigorously following them, The Helm is a charming book that will stick in your mind if only to raise a slight chuckle weeks after. Crucially, it manages to stand out from the deluge of superhero and fantasy comics currently on the market simply by being pretty damn funny.

8/10

NOTE: In response to my comments on Blurdy’s love interest Jill, writer Jim Hardison emailed me to say:

“The original description of the Jill character included the line ‘she isn’t exactly attractive, but you might mistake her for attractive in a dimly lit bar.’ Somewhere between that original idea and the finished drawings, she morphed into a more stereotypical comic babe and a less dimensional character.”

Which I guess speaks more about the comic industry than I ever could…

The Helm TPB

Synopsis:

“On the same day that epic loser Mathew Blurdy’s girlfriend breaks up with him and he is fired from his job at the video store, he encounters a magic, talking helmet at a garage sale which proclaims him “the Valhalldrim,” the chosen warrior of the light. That is until Matt touches the Helm and it suddenly realizes how unworthy he is. Then it changes its tune. But Matt’s not willing to let his shot at superherodom go so easily. He steals the Helm, thus becoming the first superhero whose magical superpower hates his guts.”

Sounds like a great take on the “legendary mystical weapon” fantasy cliché, and should be of interest to both comic readers and role playing game enthusiasts who’ll appreciate an ironic, humorous take on the subject. I’ve always wondered why there aren’t more ineffectual, overweight slobs in comics. You only have to visit my local comic book shop to see the demographic that’s been long overlooked by the comic industry.

The Helm will be released April 01, 2009, and will retail at $14.95. 104 pages. For more info on the book and a preview visit the official website at www.thehelmcomic.com. During its run as a comic miniseries, the Helm consistently made the Top Ten Best Seller List at Dark Horse and the Diamond 300 top sellers list. The series was also named one of the Best of 2008 by Regenerator Magazine.

In my second shameless plug of the day, I plan to have a review of The Helm coming up next week, so please bookmark shelfabuse.com and return soon to read my worthless and banal opinions.

Like the television show before it, Buffy’s season 8 was always going to take time to “get into”; but I can gladly say that Wolves at the Gate is the first volume so far where I didn’t feel the need to compare every minor event of this series to its originator. With the characters, setting and tone all firmly established, Wolves at the Gate not only builds substantially upon the established seasonal arc but is a great read by its own.

Buffy the Vampire Slayer Season 8 vol. 3: Wolves at the Gate

When the gang’s Highland sanctuary is invaded by a troupe of annoyingly chic Asian vampires who appear to have nailed Count Dracula’s abilities to shapeshift, they head for Japan with the aid of Nosferatu himself. Cue culture clashes and Eastern-tinted mysticism. Drew Goddard, who has written for the Buffy: the Vampire Slayer show, Alias and Lost, writes this stuff better than either Whedon or Vaughan. His knack for Buffy’s trademark tongue-in-cheek humour is spot on, and frequently laugh-out-loud; Wolves at the Gate had me chuckling more than the two previous volumes combined.

Without a doubt the series’ most impressive aspect so far has been its constituency. Both Goddard and Brian K. Vaughan have carried on from Whedon superlatively, and a visual stability has been provided by Georges Jeanty’s colourful art, used for all but one issue. A giant-sized Dawn’s Godzilla inspired assault on Tokyo really emphasises how the creative team have taken ideas that may not have initially worked – or at least been too alien to primarily appreciate – and brashly run with them until they did. The return of camp Dracula, and his relationship with his former Renfield, Xander, is also handled in a humorously, occasionally touching way and escapes the nostalgic clinginess that the previous villain reappearances have suffered from.

As with No Future for You, Joss Whedon writes but one side episode here, ‘A beautiful Sunset’, in which Buffy has her first encounter with season 8’s enigmatic big bad Twilight, and in true Whedon tradition gets the crap kicked out of her. Though Twilight is still a little too mysterious to be intriguing, Whedon does pull a hilarious parody on the enigmatic villain unmasking that used to fill the final page of almost every superhero comic in the mid-nineties, particularly Liefeld era New Mutants and X-force.

Unfortunately, the series sudden improvement in quality will be overshadowed by the titular vampire slayers sudden and inexplicable lesbian relationship with the cutesy Satsu. Though it might verge on homophobic to argue that Willow and Andrew already fill the series’ gay character quota, Buffy’s sudden shift in sexual preference does not fit in with anything that has been suggested prior. Whether her relationship with Satsu will move beyond the realm of fanboy fantasy is yet to be seen, but for the first time since Angel got canned, it is safe to say that the Buffyverse has risen defiantly from its grave.

8/10

Though it was far superior to IDW’s Angel series After the Fall, the opening volume of Buffy Season 8, The Long Way Home, definitely lacked the fluid wit of its television successor. Joss Whedon’s postmodern dialogue was intact, as were many of the little nuances of character interactions that the show did so well. Unfortunately, the flimsy plot, comprising of several cameos and a tedious large-scale battle, did little to justify the franchises resurrection in funny book format.

Buffy the Vampire Slayer Season 8 vol. 2: No Future for You

Many fans will have already bewailed Whedon’s departure from scripting duties just 5 issues into the series (though he returns for issue 10), but his replacement, Y: The Last Man and Lost scribe Brian K. Vaughan is as suitable a host as we could possibly hope for. Vaughan’s dialogue isn’t as witty as Whedon’s; he often pushes the pop culture references a little too far. Nor does he write women nearly as well. He can however, pace a far better, and as a result No Future For You is a far more directed, absorbing read than Whedon’s initial fight fest.

Slayer gone bad-then-good-again Faith takes precedence this time around. Still wanted for the murder of Deputy Mayor Allan Finch waaay back in season three of the show, she’s now split from Robin Wood and resumed her usual self loathing. When Rupert Giles offers her safe passage from America in exchange for an assassination job, she accepts. The mark in question is the ridiculously named Lady Genevieve Savidge, a spoilt English aristocratic Slayer who has fallen under the influence of Irish warlock Roden. Genevieve is like Paris Hilton mixed with Princess Di, and more unhinged than both put together. I doubt Vaughan has ever been to England; his idea of us Brits follows the hackneyed foxhunting, tea-sipping well-to-do stereotype that much of the world enjoys portraying. Not totally unlike Giles or Wesley, then, I guess. But then I’m a peasant who rarely leaves my home – where I’m from, a trenchcoat sporting, chain smoking scumbag like John Constantine is closer to the mark.

But for a brief glimpse of his shiny black boots, The Long Way Home did not so much introduce as hint vaguely at the new Big Bad, Twilight. He only appears for a single page here, to provide the usual villainous mastermind monologue, complete with the obligatory chess analogy cliché. Despite looking like a little like a Power Ranger in a flak jacket and trench coat, Twilight has cast an impressive shadow over the proceedings so far, but it remains to be seen if his plans are any deeper, or more inspired, than the routine destruction of humankind.

Whedon’s contribution, ‘Anywhere But Here’ trails somewhat pathetically behind Vaughan’s central plot. I should offer a short synopsis, but after rereading the issue a second time I still had nary a clue what was going on… but then I am a moron. Willow has gone through some changes since the show’s closure, and seems to have been allocated the dual role of perpetual exposition uttering techie type – magic-babble, if you will – and resident deus ex machina. In just ten issues her powers have saved everyone twice over. Though this is a natural progression from themes introduced in the television show, having a near omnipotent ally at hand has cheapened every conflict so far.

Still, the series is steadily finding its footing. It’s taken some time, but I’m finally adjusting to the Scottish Highlands backdrop and the notion of a highly organised, global Slayer army. Georges Jeanty’s continues to impress too, capturing the likeness of each actor in both butt-kicking and farcical modes, while still adhering to a clean and recognisably “comicy” style. Roll on volume 3.

7/10