By: Jeff Lemire (writer), Alberto Ponticelli (artist), Jose Villarrubia (colorist)
The Story: Take it easy on Frank—back when he was in ‘Nam, he saw some things.
The Review: I think it’s safe to say that, at least in fiction, all golems come to call their own shots in the end. If nothing else, Frankenstein teaches us that while the idea of creating things in our own image has a certain appeal, we also have to deal with the tough questions such questions might ask of us with their own voices afterwards—and they may not appreciate the answers, either. It’s not like we’ve ever gotten satisfactory responses from whoever created us, after all.
You’d think with Frankenstein’s monster himself walking around, hoarsely spouting his homilies around the place, all those mad scientists at S.H.A.D.E. would know better than to think freak chance can’t happen. You’d think Nina, who’s had some experience in science experiments gone awry, could fathom the dangers of thinking you’re in total control. You’d think the very concept of the Humanids would sound alarm bells that they’d turn on their masters at some point. You’d think saying aloud, “They are not aware,” pretty much guarantees they are.
Actually, Lemire knows very well that we’d think all that, but since he’s essentially writing an homage to the great sci-fi stories of the past here, he has to stick to tradition and keep the characters blissfully ignorant of the disaster they’re brewing. The only hint we get of anyone thinking ahead is Ray Palmer, who, despite Nina’s assurances, can’t help pitying and fearing the Humanids to some extent. Unfortunately, precedent shows that a creator’s pity and fear often has little weight against the unthinking wrath of his creations.
I use the word “unthinking” because we have a few hints that the Humanids have not achieved complete sentience, nor have they do so entirely on their own. While Father Time triumphantly captured Brother Eye in the O.M.A.C. crossover last issue, Eye is much too complex a virtual mind to be so simply shut down. Rather than truly freeing the Humanids from their mindless servitude, it seems like Eye merely gives them “new programming” as their new master.
Speaking of homages, we have another obvious one in this issue with the introduction of Colonel Quantum. Ultra-powerful (“…[he] can manipulate matter on a subatomic level… He is an alpha-level superhuman.”) and moody, he comes short of being a direct rip-off of Dr. Manhattan by his fleshy pink appearance. The big difference between the two, however, is the colonel lacks the lofty omniscience of the doctor, and so his weariness of the world comes from a more accessible place: the disillusion of a burned-out soldier fighting a pointless war.
In a rather surprising turn of events, the threat of Colonel Quantum gets extinguished quite quickly and without much violence or even hostility, considering Frank’s claim that “We are going to assassinate him.” In fact, the scene comes across rather bittersweet, if a bit anticlimactic, and it certainly offers a dark look at the end results of man’s attempts to attain the powers of gods. It certainly bodes ill for S.H.A.D.E.’s scientific style of war-making.
I’m continually amazed by what Ponticelli’s deliberately messy lines can do. You’d think with all those wrinkles and distortions in his art, you’d hardly see much of anything, yet he always manages to convey the core emotions of a scene. Colonel Quantum’s big scene works so well not only because Ponticelli portrays his monstrous mutations with such convincing pain and horror, but also because you can plainly see his sad mixture of desperation, rage, and exhaustion.
Conclusion: From an all-out action fest last issue we come to a thoughtful, even poignant set of plotlines, which Lemire and Ponticelli deliver with great integrity. A quietly enjoyable read.
Grade: B
– Minhquan Nguyen
Some Musings: – I’m pretty sure that Velcoro and Griffith need to make a road trip comedy now.
– I don’t know why, but the sight of Frankenstein in tank top and jeans cracks me up every time.
Grade
Conclusion