By: Joshua Hale Fialkov (writer), Andrea Sorrentino (artist), Marcelo Maiolo (colorist)
The Story: Apparently, magic is the high-potency acid of the vampire world.
The Review: In some ways, I don’t find this series groundbreaking as I find that it breaks away from the preconceived notions it invites you to make about it. Think of the first time you heard the premise: a slender vampire with heartthrob looks pitting himself against his own lover, whom he turned himself. Who knew you’d get a story about two individuals with incompatible views on life, yet who are attracted to each other all the more even as they vie for each other’s deaths?
Even more appreciably, the series has avoided all the usual nail-biting brooding you usually expect from these semi-romantic vampire tales nowadays, focusing more on the more violent, morally questionable qualities of the creatures. In this issue, Fialkov truly dabbles in angst for the first time as Andrew uses the luxury of non-existence to reflect on his actions: “I’ve done more harm than good.” But even here, Andy doesn’t ruminate for long, rejecting the notion that he’s destined for greater things with a dismissive, “Destiny is for teenage girls. I spew death.”
You might wonder whom he’s scoffing at so boldly, but not even death-spewing Andrew can get that answer. We can deduce a few things by simple observation. This off-page voice must have some prime role in the balance of the universe, since he recounts the primordial origins of Cain (“Before there was light or dark or heaven or earth, there was blackness.”) with authority. And since he can keep the slain Andrew from whisking off to the afterlife, and hints that he can restore Andrew to the world of the living, he must be pretty powerful as well.
Yet for all that, we still don’t know how Cain and Andrew’s lives are tied together, considering the former predates the latter by eons. We only get a hint that an “army of great mystical warriors,” most likely the Demon Knights, had something to do with using Andrew as the “seal” on Cain’s imprisonment.
This would also explain the Justice League Dark’s involvement, since Madame Xanadu served as a member on both magical teams. By the way, don’t listen to editor Matt Idelson’s captioned warning to read Justice League Dark #7; it doesn’t take $2.99 and twenty-odd pages to figure out the JLD show up to aid in the battle against Cain, who winds up making them impotent by draining their powers.
That same powerlessness applies to the Bat-family, who have a contextual reason for being included in this story (since Gotham is ground zero for this vampire invasion), but otherwise add little to the plot. What can they expect to do against magically infused vampires who resist slaying by ordinary means (Tig: “…the whole head cutting off thing…really not working anymore.”)? And so it’s up to Mary, who grows increasingly and amusingly pissed by the page at Cain usurping her leadership and made-from-scratch army, to act as the last hope for all.
Somehow, the JLD don’t look all too flattering under Sorrentino’s style. In fact, Zatanna and Xanadu look just plain mousy, emaciated, and sickly, a problem exacerbated by Maiolo giving them little to no flesh tone whatsoever. Aside from that, Sorrentino is still a perfect fit for the title, making the grit and blood of the city and characters look almost romantic with his shadowy work. He does an especially standout job on the recounting of Cain’s origins, giving it a quasi-engraved, Inferno aesthetic that meshes terrifically with the dark, ancient, celestial tale.
Conclusion: The vampire stars of the title shine, but the Bat-family and JLD serve as rather poor, largely pointless guests, taking up valuable page-time that could be devoted to giving us more info on the lord of all evil here.
Grade: B-
– Minhquan Nguyen
Some Musings: – Speaking as a Zatanna fan, I’m rather distressed that thus far in the new DCU, she has proven completely ineffectual in nearly every crisis situation she’s shown up for. How far we’ve fallen from her godlike days in Grant Morrison’s Seven Soldiers of Victory or Joe Kelly’s JLA: The Obsidian Age.
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Conclusion