By: Judd Winick (writer), Hendry Prasetya (artist), Jessica Kholinne (colorist)
The Story: Don’t try to be a hero, man. Seriously—you could go to jail for it.
The Review: Fiction has always been and will always be a product of its period; no surprise then that the stories you indulge in will have echoes in the current events of the year. Lately Muslim-American relations are very much on the forefront of our consciousness, so small wonder we get treated to more fiction on that subject than we’ve been used to. But considering the topic’s volatile nature, it’s that much more important for writers to tread carefully in their storytelling.
Winick falls into the trap of telling his story of a newly exposed metahuman Muslim-American the way we want to hear it, or at least, the way we expect to hear it. This means the use of a lot of stereotypes—interestingly enough, less with regards to Quraci Rayhan Mazin, weather wizard, and more with his US federal captors. Suspicion against the government has never been greater, so it’s quite the rage to portray any gov official as ruthless, controlling, corrupt, or all the above.
Just look at the unfair detainment and treatment of Rayhan (no lawyer, no outside access, etc.). To his credit, Winick does set up a fairly sticky situation which would sensibly result in some woeful misunderstanding, especially on the crest of such primal emotions. And he does allow Rayhan’s interrogator just a smidgeon of humanity, but his apparent total lack of sympathy or open-mindedness still leans on the military caricature side.
But in pursuing his agenda of demonizing the military and (figuratively) martyring Rayhan, Winick creates and ignores a significant point: Power Girl and Batman’s presence at the scene of the “crime.” It stands to reason they would never simply let a brand-new metahuman villain of such power be taken into government custody, no questions asked, without confronting or researching him themselves (Bruce especially wouldn’t let that pass). Most likely, Winick will play this out to wrap up this arc with a suitably just ending, but it’s still a major plot hole.
Winick’s oversimplified understanding of complicated real-life affairs also applies to corporate transactions. He tries to make a headline out of Starrware’s acquisition of a news network (“Are they biting off more than they can chew?”), but it’s hard to take it seriously, even ignoring that in real life, any company can try to acquire any other company as long as it can justify its use.
We know so little about Karen’s pet business, especially what it actually does—“some very dangerous stuff” says Agent Teman, “pure science” as Batman describes it—that any plot involving Starrware lacks interest. Despite all the talk about fleshing out P.G.’s civilian identity and job, Winick has only superficially addressed these things with flashy scenes, like Karen and Bruce’s red carpet run, when more in-depth focus on her personal life is needed.
Prasetya’s style doesn’t differ all that much from Sami Basri’s; both feature solid lines, focused foreground work, spare surrounding details (though Basri does better in this respect), and a manga-like character treatment (Prasetya has a slightly more convincing look). Kholinne’s colors have improved (read: bolded) significantly, but still seem a touch pale most of the time.
Conclusion: Iffy treatment of what should be a more nuanced plot, though Winick delivers a passably believable story. Whether he can elevate this beyond the predictable is questionable.
Grade: C+
- Minhquan Nguyen
Some Musings: - Power Girl’s squinch-eyed, clenched-fist, disgruntled look is straight out of the school of Japanese comic female characters on the verge of a hissy-fit.
Filed under: DC Comics, Reviews Tagged: | Batman, Bruce Wayne, DC, DC Comics, Hendry Prasetya, Jessica Kholinne, Judd Winick, Karen Starr, Muslim-American, Power Girl, Power Girl #24, Power Girl #24 review, Starrware
I’m almost certain that any caricaturing of the miltiary is only a counter-spectacle to the caricaturing of Arab Americans since their arrival in the United States centuries ago. You’ll notice I say Arab Americans and not Muslim Americans, as you say in the article– nowhere in the comic is it mentioned that Rayhan is Muslim. And incidentally, the majority of Arab Americans are Christian, according to the Arab American Institute and CAIR, so any assumptions about Islam and Arab Americans necessarily being linked are moot.
Yes, it’s disingenuous to stereotype any group, and yes, I disagree with stereotyping the military in this book, but I also would like to posit reasons as to why that might happen here.
I can definitely agree that caricaturing the military in this issue could be a reaction toward perceived military injustice toward Arab-Americans–but it’s a misdirected reaction. The military takes its orders from other people, and those people in turn take their lead from the fears and concerns (however irrational) of the general populace. Portraying the military characters in this issue as almost absolutely unjust and cold-hearted pits the blame on the wrong perpetrators of Arab-American mistreatment. Not to mention it’s very superficial character writing.
Incidentally, I do not characterize Rayhan as Muslim, although I do note, as the story describes, that he is from fictional Middle-Eastern nation Qurac. I do, however, talk about Muslim-Americans rather than Arab-Americans in the intro because statistically, concerns revolve more around that specific religious demographic rather than a racial one, but the two are popularly conflated. Studies have shown, however, (http://www.cfr.org/united-states/islam-america/p25200) that Americans are less concerned about Muslims as individuals, but the religion itself (or at least misconceptions of the religion), so it seems rather appropriate to speak specifically about Muslim-Americans.