By: Sam Humphries (story), Ramón Pérez (art), Jordie Bellaire (colors)
The Story: This–is–Barsooooom!
The Review: As I explained to Jim in the comments to my review of The Avengers, I like to review and grade everything on this site according to what legal minds call a “partially individualized” test. It means while I do make a big effort to be as objective as possible, I also give some weight to what the creators’ intent. It doesn’t really make sense to evaluate, for example, a cartoon on Nickelodian in the same way I do for a literary masterwork.
So when it comes to a pulpy piece of sci-fi, I definitely offer a lot more leeway for cliché and silliness than I would with almost every other genre. Obviously, the intention with these things isn’t to create some radical new form of storytelling; all these stories really want to do is provide an entertaining diversion that’s almost comforting in the way it relies on classical conventions.
In that sense, the makeup of this series is wonderfully pure. When it comes to villains, they don’t come much bigger than a planet’s gods, and their minions don’t get much more detestable than one who manipulates a whole population for self-profit. The heroes are heartbreakingly righteous and just, the friendships fast, the enmity furious. Humphries doesn’t want to water down any of this with moral ambiguity or any of the other trappings of modern fiction; he’s playing directly to our childhood sense of how stories should always be.
With such potent fantasy, you can afford to enjoy bold, excitable dialogue and exposition. Tars Tarkas explains how he and Thuvia come upon the series’ major revelation: “We watched from afar—and witnessed a corruption most loathsome. Zat accepting bribes from the wicked Therns of the Valley Dor!” In the real world, Zat’s under-the-table deals would be predictable, almost expected. Of course he’s being bribed. And perhaps even in the world of Barsoom, such villainy isn’t unheard of. But these characters don’t view such things as the norm, and so you have such hyperbolic language of outrage as “loathsome” and “wicked,” words which call to mind a fairy tale standard of injustice.
Once you give in to your inner child, as this series clearly demands you to, you’ll agree with abandon that a duel to the death is the only way to determine the fate of a kingdom. You’ll believe that a righteous speech is enough to move whole armies. You don’t even feel a tinge of fear that overthrowing an ancient and advanced evil can result in anything but success. It all calls to mind not only the free confidence of your five-year-old days, but also the absolute optimism and spirit of a much earlier era, perhaps when the Barsoom novels were first written. Just before they attack Omean, John offers his friends, “Last chance to back out.” They respond derisively. “Are you kidding?” “Ha! Never!” And jumping into thin air, John shouts, “Time for a leap of faith! …Not even the gods will see us coming.”
Pérez understands exactly the kind of material he’s working with here, and he gives it the most suitable treatment. He makes no effort to tone back the bursts of emotion in the script. John scowls darkly, grits his teeth, and foams at the mouth, and even this doesn’t seem like enough of an outlet for what he’s feeling inside. At the same time, Pérez possesses a substantial degree of polish and pure style, which makes everything look completely credible.
Conclusion: While the pace of this series goes blindingly fast—blink once and you’ll miss it—it is so unadulterated in action and adventure that you feel hyperactively full by the end of it.
Grade: B+
– Minhquan Nguyen
Some Musings: – And the award for Most Amusingly Graphic Insult (Probably Ever) goes to John Carter in reference to the monster in his prison cell: “Uglier than a sack full of armpits, too.”