Welcome, friends, fiends and foes alike, to the salubrious confines of the BARGAIN BASEMENT OF DOOOOOM. This
week’s celebration of unloved inexpensive obscurities marks the final
instalment of my magnificently moreish mighty MARTIAN MANHUNTER month.
Specifically, the 2006–7 eight-issue limited series by writer A.J. Lieberman (Batman: Gotham Nights, Harley Quinn) and penciller Al
Barrionuevo (Batman: Gotham Nights, The Authority, X-Men). Plus inks by Bit, colours by Marta Martinez and letters by
Travis Lanham – isn’t it odd how we comic types often overlook the efforts of
the finishing team?
By the time 2006 rolled around, J’onn J’onzz had undergone a
few changes. In the wake of the traumatising events of Infinite Crisis, 52 and,
particularly, World War III, he had
become increasingly disillusioned with and disconnected from humanity. His solo
series actually began with a chapter in DC’s 2006 Brave New World anthology, in which J’onn, masquerading as an agent
from the DEO (Department of Extra-normal Operations), meets a man who has found
a strange medallion that fell from the sky. J’onn recognises it as a Martian
artefact, meaning that he may not be the last of his kind, not alone on Earth.
He is shaken by the revelation, and when next we see him he has fully embraced
his heritage, suddenly appearing in public in his natural, pointy-headed form,
wearing some brand-spanking-new, slightly BDSMish Martian strides – his first
costume change in 50 years.
J’onn’s traditional, minimal pants-and-braces garb had
survived that long for a reason – while not exactly a design classic, there’s a
certain elegant, almost naïve simplicity to it, not to mention a quiet
confidence. He doesn’t need to update his costume to move with the times,
because, as a giant, bright green, hairless, centuries-old alien, he transcends
notions of fashion and cool. That said, I actually quite liked the new costume
on an aesthetic level, although being clad in blue-black and red leather from
the beautiful pea-green chin south does convey a different, more remote and
alien image – quite pointedly so.
Leading directly out of Brave
New World, the series itself is essentially an espionage/sci-fi thriller.
The discovery of the medallion leads J’onn to a group of incarcerated Martians,
who may not be all they seem. Along the way, he becomes mired in a shadowy
conspiracy, is hunted by government operatives and his fellow heroes, and
crosses a few long-held moral rubicons too. As an odd twist, the human
supporting cast have distractingly familiar names – Giggs, Ferguson,
Keane, a female agent called Rio Ferdinand… As a walking, talking geek cliché,
I know little about sport, and rank football somewhere between nasal torture
and bathing in dead badgers in the panoply of experiences this world has to
offer, but even I recognise that lot.
Much as this foray through J’onn’s solo books has been a
delightful indulgence for me personally, it’s true to say we’re not necessarily
going out on a high note here. I have mixed feelings about this series. On the
plus side, Barrionuevo’s art is largely excellent – at its best it recalls,
even approaches the diligent and stylish drama of Ivan Reis or J.G. Jones. On
the other hand, it sometimes looks weirdly awkward or hurried… in particular,
the perspective of J’onn’s sizeable noggin appears to present almost
insurmountable challenges when in three-quarter view. Story-wise, it’s an
engaging enough mystery, even if the supposed twist in the tale is both
predictable and extremely tired. And there are some great scenes – despite
a tense build-up, a confrontation between J’onn, his friends and some leaguers
(Green Lantern, Zatanna, Green Arrow, Vixen, Black Canary) is all over
extremely, derisively quickly, and off-panel to boot, the crushing of puny pink
humans a foregone conclusion.
However, J’onn’s characterisation and his inner struggle
– do his loyalties lie with Earth or Mars? – don’t quite ring true. He’s
suffered far worse tragedies than any of his peers can imagine, yet has for the
most part remained a gentle, noble soul whose strength is his compassion. He’s
always been a lonely, isolated figure, but has often made the hard choice to
side with his adopted home, rather than accept easy and familiar companionship.
Here, however, weakened by fresh tragedies (such as the Infinite Crisis-era
deaths of Blue Beetle and Maxwell Lord), the pull of his race is stronger than
ever, and his essential empathy with humanity dwindles. This is why the new,
bad-ass, leather-clad, pointy-headed J’onn who breaks the rules to get the job
done, goddammit, though superficially cool, just doesn’t feel like the Martian
Manhunter. Rather than a fresh direction, it comes across like a phase, a
mid-life crisis. It’s the last-son-of-Mars equivalent of a Harley Davidson and
a toupée.
And indeed, it wouldn’t last long. The events implied at the end of series go absolutely nowhere, and this incarnation of the Alien Atlas would soon meet an untimely and brutal end in the first issue of Final Crisis. As upsetting as this was at the time for fans of the Manhunter, it now seems like a kindness. It’s almost as if this act of aliencide was Grant Morrison – whose portrayal of J’onn in JLA is pretty damn definitive – killing off the grim conehead story and providing the opportunity for a purifying rebirth (which would, of course, be provided by DC’s arch-necromancer Geoff Johns a few years later).
However, in a further twist, the New 52 incarnation of J’onn
appears to be a reversion to this short-lived detached, angry, clandestine
outsider with suspect motives. Which, y’know, is fine… but he’s not really the
big guy I know and love.
Thank you for reading, and for your patience while I’ve
indulged my love of all things green and Martianful.
Next time: SOMETHING ELSE.
