Wednesday, March 21, 2012

Andrew Reviews "The New 52"

I've been waffling about how best to do this. "This" referring to the higher concept of "Reviewing the New 52." I'll be straight up: I hate numbered reviews that assign an arbitrary score to comics without clearly laid out methodology. Working in corporate USA, I've learned that numbers for the sake of numbers means little to me. I'm far more interested in the number of words or sentences per page and the number of panels per issue than I am about splitting hairs between a 3.5 or a 4.0. Or an 8.5/ 10. Because the difference in a review between a 3.5 and a 4.0 isn't going to change my mind on whether or not I should consume a comic. Nor is the difference between even a 7.0 and a 10.0. There are two reasons for this:

1. Arbitrary rankings (and all numerical rankings of qualitative data are arbitrary) are not helpful. Honestly. I've looked at these assigned values quantitative data for my entire life (professionally, academically, and in my hobbies) and what I've learned is this: they're arbitrary.

2. Why not just say what the numbers are supposed to mean at the end of the review? "I think this comic is so awesome that I would buy a copy for a friend to get them interested," and, "I would not even have my friend read this comic if we were bored at my house and he wanted something to peruse while on the can," are far, FAR better ways of letting review readers know what you actually think of the comic. "I don't want to read this comic, but WOW do I want to look at it," tells me the story that I need. And, honestly, if that's how someone laid out their rankings from 1-5 including a clearly justified methodology, I would still dislike it. Assigning scores is arbitrary. And the fewer times we can do it, the better off we're going to be as critics of our medium.

So what does it mean to "Review the New 52"? I've simplified it to this:

I'm going to tell you which comics I think you should buy or not buy and give you the reasons why I think this.

Honestly, it's that simple. It's being completely transparent about the arbitrariness of the process. Further, I want to look at how comics work in shaping the continuity of this "New 52" and see in what ways I think someone should buy a particular comic. DC had a pretty rad idea when the relaunch happened that I'm still behind: quit limiting the ways in which people can read comic books (keep a hold of that statement because I shall return to it!). For years I've been lamenting the black-and-white newspaper comic page. Calvin & Hobbes forever shaped my existence, so I'd guess Bill Watterson would have something to do with that! The continuous reduction of panel size, the restrictions on Sunday pages, the forced requirements of the syndicates changed one of our two uniquely American art forms (sequential art existed previously, but The Yellow Kid changed the game; I'm in the camp that refers to pre-The Yellow Kid works as proto-comic strips and would love to hear contrary opinions!) from merchandised art to merchandise vehicles. It happens. When art is created for commercial purposes, it invariably ends up kowtowing to the demands of finance over art.

I would like to take this moment to very clearly let everyone know that the first clause of the previous sentence is the most important. I may use it again. "When art is created for commercial purposes, [insert dependent clause here]." That's pretty strong framework.

Another reason behind the waffling behind how exactly to translate my New 52 notes to readable content is that I'm not doing this to be "the expert." I would like to be "the expert." I'm arrogant. I'm well-read. I like comics. I don't see why I couldn't be "the expert." But that's not the purpose behind these reviews. I am simply one voice among thousands of voices who, weekly, are letting major publishers know what they would like to continue to read and what they wouldn't (of course, I'm not telling DC what I would and wouldn't like to read because I'm buying everything, but we'll get to that in my methodology). Instead, my purpose is to become an academic of this universe, one of many well-researched voices who want to let DC know what they we think they should or could do as they continue to evolve this ground-breaking project. So, here it is in print: I do not think I'm the sole expert in this universe and will make mistakes. I will be critical of DC's continuity and storytelling in this relaunch and will make mistakes as I go about it. I eat very healthy, so if I introduce crow into my poultry consumption, I will be okay. So if you see something I missed, if I whiffed on something entirely, or I spout an opinion that sounds researched but you think I am drawing an incorrect conclusion from it, let me know.

The other intent behind this project (behind the "reviewing") is that I'll be using this as a place to explore the larger elements of comic book composition and how I think this consumer-shaped continuity changes the product for DC. I am very interested in shared continuity, especially when that shared continuity creates a massive world. I'm certainly not saying that the worlds of other comics are IN CONCEPT smaller or bigger than the two publishers, but because of the volume of books put out by Marvel and DC every month there is a difference. When comic book creators are putting out their work in smaller, encapsulated form, a beautiful world can be built. I secretly believe that part of why Watchmen is such a big deal is because it created such a massive world in just twelve issues. Massive in terms of scope and depth, characters and story. But it was just twelve issues (please don't bring the Before Watchmen argument up here; it's valid, but the oodles of criticism for Watchmen existed long before even the announcement of those upcoming minis). Gah, twelve issues and an RPG supplement, but how many critics do you think dove into that to respond to the work? Also, I think I randomly have it... don't know why. SIDETRACKED! No matter how brilliant or breathtaking those panels in Watchmen are, how much more powerful would they be if Alan Moore was using his original character choices? Not to Moore (I'm sure Moore ended up thinking far higher of his creations than the Charlton characters he could've used), but to the readers? Imagine if Watchmen had happened in the actual DCU. How massive would that have been? Would/ could it have been bigger than it was when it was coming out?

tl;dr

1. I won't post reviews with arbitrary numbers. I will simply offer my opinion on the books (most likely entire story arcs) in DC's "The New 52."
2. I'm not trying to be the expert. But I am trying to be an expert. Thus I value the exchange of ideas moreso than the pedantic lecturing of a comic book snob.
3. I'm using this concept to help create the framework I will use as a point of reference from where I can extrapolate ideas about larger scaled visions of comic book universes all the way to the medium itself. Sounds heady. It might be.

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