By: Charles Soule (story), Javier Pulido (art), Muntsa Vicente (colors)
The Story: It takes a desperate man to sue an elderly Captain America.
The Review: There have been a few times since I picked up this series when I wondered whether other people would really enjoy a committed legal drama from a comic book, or whether it’s just my own legal background talking. I’m comforted, however, by the fact that people have been entertained by this kind of stuff from Perry Mason to Law & Order: [Insert Spin-Off Here]. Adding superheroes to the mix can only make the series more interesting, I figure.
I mean, who wouldn’t want to follow a trial involving Captain America? And not just that, but involving him as defendant? In a civil suit for wrongful death? With She-Hulk as his attorney and Daredevil as opposing counsel? Again, I could just be law-nerding out here, but the premise alone wins out against stacks of your run-of-the-mill superhero stories.
The stakes are even higher with Steve suddenly in his nonagenarian years, making the outcome of this trial potentially his final legacy (a thought that naturally gives Jen a great deal of stress). My only gripe with this complication is it’s sprung on us with no explanation whatsoever, not even from the recap page. I may be reading more Marvel now than I used to, but I can’t be expected to keep up with every continuity change, and considering Steve’s new age surprises Jen as well, there’s no reason why Soule can’t dive a little into what exactly happened to him.
Same thing with the suit itself. Other than the allegation itself (and a reporter asking, “[D]id you really kill that guy?”), we’re given no specifics about the complaint. One recap page and an inscrutable double-splash later, Steve is telling Jen, “So that’s what’s happening.” Wait, what? What’s happening? In a bit of reverse dramatic irony, the characters know way more than we do and the whole time they’re working on the case, we’re in the dark as to what it is they’re doing.
It’s an annoying experience, but perhaps one of necessity. With almost all evidence withheld and equally competent, respectable, and beloved attorneys on either side, Soule’s trying to put us into the position of the jury by making the case as neutral as possible from the onset. He wants us to make our judgment as the case goes along, which is difficult since we’re predisposed to side with Steve and Jen from the get-go. Honestly, some background information on the case would still have been appreciated, and it couldn’t make much difference to our opinion. Angie’s correct in saying, “Trials can be funny things. They take unexpected twists and turns. And juries. Don’t get me started on juries.” All it takes is one crucial fact to turn a trial on its head, so what could some preliminary facts hurt?
This all sounds very serious, as befits a legal drama of this nature, but actually the issue’s as fun and lively as the rest of the series has been. Soule has a gentle, warm sense of humor, drawn entirely from interplay between characters rather than gags or witticisms. Think Steve asking why Jen uses an intercom when it would be easier to just wave at Angie across the room. “That’s the kind of logic that ends up with a girl who never gets to use her intercom. I refuse to be that girl.” Soule’s humor is especially suited for Steve, who comes across as devastatingly charming despite his years: “I’ve always been ninety. Now I just look it,” he says, grinning.
Pulido has been doing this series long enough that he’s got Soule’s comedy down pat, boosting even the mildest jokes with the perfect expression, whether deadpan, cheerful, or hapless. It’s his design sensibility that really leaps out at you, however. We’ve seen plenty of artists give characters personality, but how many can do the same for settings? Jen’s office is full of bold colors (thanks, Vicente!) that reflect her bold personality and complement her skin tones, but it’s also decorated with trendy, hip furnishings, giving you a sense of the vibrant women working inside. Compare this to the piles of boxes and case files that somehow retain an organization in their jumble in Matt’s decidedly more businesslike office, revealing Matt’s looser (but still professional) working style
Conclusion: Intriguing from front to back, though Soule’s a little stingy with the facts.
Grade: A-
– Minhquan Nguyen
Some Musings: – Why not settle? You have two levelheaded attorneys on either side, Steve is probably one of the most amenable defendants you can have, and this is a civil suit so money’s the only thing at stake anyway. So why are we seeing no settlement conferences?
– Part of Jen’s décor are framed pictures of a question mark and exclamation point. Must have.
– To represent Steve in California, Jen uses the office of Matt Rocks, superstar entertainment lawyer, and one of Jamie Madrox’s dupes. It’s been a while since I’ve read X-Factor, but I didn’t know he had any other dupes left outstanding except that priest.