By: Scott Lobdell (writer), R.B. Silva (penciller), Rob Lean (inker), the Hories (colorists)
The Story: Look on the bright side, Superboy—you could also be a monkey.
The Review: It seems like no one really knows what to do with Superboy’s character. The inconsistency in his various portrayals says it all: he’s gone from swinging teenager, to slightly dim pretty boy, to angsty with a bit of rebel-without-a-cause mixed in, to gung-ho Midwestern schoolboy, to awkward worrywart. You can chalk some of these changes to evolutions in his character, but even in the last year or so, he hasn’t managed to stick to a core identity.
The one thing that’s managed to take off is the revelation of his mixed genetic heritage, love child to the world’s finest hero and the world’s greatest villain. Here, Lobdell plays up both parts of Superboy’s dual genetic heritage, and throws in a little bit of wide-eyed newborn to the world for good measure. These elements don’t break new ground in the Boy of Steel’s conception, but at least they refrain from too radical a take on him as well.
In some respects, you can get the sense Lobdell has the right idea of Superboy: restless and edgy, but well-intentioned and even a little innocent under it all. But the writer also he tries way too hard to sell you on the grim captivity of the clone’s laboratory life: “‘They’ are the people out there. Beyond this prison of glass and wet…” The grating narration really could’ve been done away with altogether, and the issue would’ve flowed and been all the better-crafted for it.
At times, Lobdell hints at Superboy’s true origins with all the subtlety of a person smashing through a brick wall with a sledgehammer. Most of the most groan-worthy lines come out the mouth of Red, the lad’s scientist-caretaker. On one page, she muses, “What are these feelings of alienation…of being the new kind in a new place? About having to pretend to be someone he is not?” Then, on the next page: “…unless Superboy’s human cells originated in a deeply pathological, megalomaniacal narcissist, the likes of which the world has never known…”
In a lot of ways, the issue, like its star, still feels mostly immature. It milks the sci-fi angst for all it’s worth, it also wallows in melodrama, poaching off every cliché of the scientist-subject relationship. It also goes for some rather awkward humor (Rose Wilson: “You can call me ‘the hot chick I’m going to walk home from school.’”), which undeniably fits with the whole awkward tone of the story so far.
All this exposition really bogs down the pacing, so by the time you reach the end, you feel like you’ve been fed a lot of information, but you haven’t really learned all that much (a bit like having an English major, really—and I should know). It’s also baffling that Lobdell has in store an immediately crossover with the Teen Titans before the first story arc has even taken off.
I have mixed feelings on Silva’s art. On the one hand, it looks great and has a lot of appreciable detail. And while the youthful overtones perfectly suit a teen title, they seem completely at odds with Lobdell’s script at times, especially in the lab scenes, which obviously attempt to build some fraught tension, only to be undermined by the almost cutesy appearance of the characters (especially those “attention” wingdings that pop up next to their heads from time to time).
Conclusion: As characterizations go, it’s not bad, but the writing is incredibly talky, yet none the livelier for it. Frankly, I wouldn’t have minded it if the cartoon version of the character had been used as the basis for this revitalized one, because what you see here has a ways to go.
Grade: C
– Minhquan Nguyen
Some Musings: – It’s official: Red Robin’s new outfit is absolutely one of the most ridiculous and hideous-looking things I’ve ever seen. So many belts, but why?