Review: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles #29

You haven't been reading this book? What's wrong with you?

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles #29

Story by Kevin Eastman, Bobby Curnow, and Tom Waltz

Script by Tom Waltz

Art by Ross Campbell

Colors by Ronda Pattison

Letters by Shawn Lee

Editor: Bobby Curnow

Publisher: IDW

Let me tell you a story...

It's been a long time since I've made mine Ninja Turtles.

...Nah, I'm just kidding. I've been reading the comics non-stop ever since IDW kicked off the reboot in 2011. As the most hardcore TMNT fan born after the 1980s (I'm sure someone can make a case against the claim; go ahead), I went into this new series with a dose of skepticism. IDW has published adaptations of blockbuster movies like Ghostbusters, cartoons like My Little Pony, and shows like 24, which have been extended beyond their original runs in comics form.

No word yet on a Happy Endings comic book, but shut up. It could work.

I hadn't read many of IDW's comics before TMNT. There were a couple Transformers issues here and there, but I always overlooked the publishing house as those people who dished out licensed comics, and video games did not give me a good perception of licensed works.

I became interested in the TMNT comics during their most obscure period: towards the end of Mirage volume 4, when Peter Laird was the only member of the original duo still on board. In 2009, Laird sold the rights to Nickelodeon, and Mirage Publishing went under. I panicked; my favorite "heroes in a half shell" were now the property of the corporate entity which drove Spongebob into the ground years after the show stopped being funny. I did not trust those slime-o-philes to take good care of Raph, Leo, Donny, and Mikey. Then, I saw they were partnering with IDW to reboot the comics series. "But, I miss the old continuity," I thought to myself. A leading figure on this new comic's creative team would be one of the creators of the Ninja Turtles, but not Peter Laird, who stuck with the series until he sold the rights at the end of the first decade of the new millennium.  No. They gave it to the other guy: Kevin Eastman, the guy who left Ninja Turtles nine years prior, as he was now focused on publishing some weird sci-fi-semi-porno-comics magazine. This fucking guy:

This might fall into the realm of self-loathing, but I completely agree with Liz Lemon about guys named Kevin.

So, I was worried that the new Ninja Turtles wouldn't live up to the end-of-era Mirage comics I was used to. After all, the characters now belonged to the company that gave Fred Figglehorn a trilogy of TV movies. But, I kept an open mind. It was still Ninja Turtles, so I was willing to give the new series a shot. 

Not only, did the reboot exceed my expectations. It blew those other TMNT comics out of the water. As of this writing, there is no monthly comic series that excites me more than the turtles. While, other favorites, like Hellboy and The Goon, take some time to come out with new issues, I can always be sure that with each month, I'll be reading a new installment in the Ninja Turtles main-series, in addition to the micro-series issues, and colored reprints of the classic Eastman and Laird stories. Just like the current cartoon on Nickelodeon, IDW's TMNT line of comic books provides a master class in reviving a franchise, merging mythology from both the original comics and the beloved 80s cartoon, while linking the heroes and villains together in major arcs that are as intense as some of Marvel and DC's blockbuster superhero events, but much less convoluted.

For a big chunk of the past year, the comic book Turtles have been engaged in the chaos of IDW's "City Fall" arc. During this time, Leonardo fell under the control of the Shredder, while Splinter and the remaining turtles were forced to team up with their former enemy, Old Hob, to retrieve their lost brother. Meanwhile, following a brutal injury at the hands of the Shredder, Casey Jones finally developed a full romantic relationship with April O'Neill. At the end of the seven-issue arc, the family finally retrieved Leonardo, but putting things in perspective, it appears that Shredder and the Foot Clan were the real winners of "City Fall." Yes, the family was reunited, but the Shredder established himself as supreme overlord of New York's underworld, having convinced the majority of the city's crime bosses to swear allegiance to the foot; the one who wouldn't bow down to ol' Oroku received a nice beheading from the Shredder himself, in front of a massive audience of crooks who now knew not to fuck with the Foot. With the Shredder's criminal empire more powerful than ever before, Splinter, the turtles, April, and Casey retreat to the O'Neill farm in Northampton. Little do they know, they have been followed by a former member of the Foot, the mutant arctic fox, Alopex. From here, issue 29 begins.

Those Good, Old-Fashioned Family Values...

Issue 29 is remarkably quiet when compared to "City Fall." As a matter of fact, when I looked back at the issue, I started to realize how amazing it is that a premise like Ninja Turtles could lead to a quiet issue. For God's sake, the series is about four giant turtles performing ninjutsu against other ninjas and mutants. It should be the loudest, most brain-dead piece of popcorn entertainment imaginable. Yet, this simple tale of Turtles arguing on a farm reminds me why these characters have lived on for nearly three decades (I'm not kidding; 2014 will be the TMNT's 30th anniversary). The heroes in a half shell have transcended a gimmicky premise because of one thing: a strong family dynamic.

The turtles aren't just mutant freaks; they are brothers. Splinter isn't just a martial arts sensei; he is a father. April O'Neill and Casey Jones work as characters because they're not just sidekicks or assistants to the turtles; they have a deep, intimate bond with five of the most absurd characters imaginable. Issue 29 is a lovely exploration of some of these relationships.

Something that has been present throughout the various incarnations of the Ninja Turtles mythos is the love-hate relationship between the team's leader and the its most bull-headed member. This issue shines the brightest when Leo and Raph are butting heads. Their argument manages to reverse the usual Leonardo-Raphael dynamic, while still somehow remaining true to the respective personalities of the characters. The story makes it clear that Leo hasn't overcome Shredder's brainwashing to the fullest extent; his defense of ex-Foot soldier Alopex suggests that he may have not been turned back to the side of familial order. Yet, his protection of Alopex from Raph's rage also shows that Leo's values of justice and righteousness are still within the heart of the character. Meanwhile, Raph's distrust of Alopex seems to be motivated by a deep concern for the safety of his family, a concern which is more characteristic of Leo. But, we still get a taste of Raphael's savagery, that tough attitude which defines the turtle in the red headband. It's cool to read an issue where the turtles' main enemy isn't Shredder or Krang, but one another. Somehow, the return to this sibling rivalry gives me hope that Leo will overcome his mental torture and that the family will endure.

The issue also features a flash of brilliance in the characterization of Master Splinter. As the stern leader, Splinter tries to force Leo and Raph into quitting their quarrel. However, this doesn't work quite as well as Splinter hopes, since Leo still does not acknowledge him as the father he was before. Splinter realizes this, and in a small panel, we can see the pain in Splinter's eyes as he allows his son to venture out into the woods, alone. Ever since the last arc, in which Splinter compromised his morals with Old Hob in order to save Leo, I have been coming to realize that the ninja master rat isn't a flawless character. While he may be a wise leader, he is still just... human? Anyway, when Leo turns his back on his master in this issue, Splinter realizes that there is only so much he could do to bring his son back into the family, and it tortures him. The reason that Splinter works as a father and not just the wise mentor figure is because in real life, we know that fathers aren't perfect; they do what they can to raise their children right, but there is only so much a person can do to guide another onto the right path. Thus, we develop an emotional connection to Splinter, more intimate than the connection we feel towards other, more detached, fictional wise men.

Continuing on the theme of family, this issue also introduces us to April's parents. It is interesting to compare and contrast the comic book's vision of Mr. O'Neill with the character presented in the Nickelodeon cartoon. I suppose since April's father isn't the most prominent figure in the series mythology, writers have a freedom to decide what they think April's dad should be like. Both April's mother and her handicapped father are pretty welcoming toward Casey, and I wonder if that will change when they find out that he beats thugs with baseball bats. I also wonder what will happen should they learn that April also brought along giant, mutant animals. April also learns from her mother that her old workplace, Stockgen laboratories, was recently destroyed. We saw in the last arc that this was caused by the actions of Old Hob and Slash. Perhaps, this will cause some friction between April and Old Hob's unknowing collaborator, Splinter, in the coming issues.

Perhaps, I should talk about the art...

Briefly flipping through the pages of this issue, I wasn't sure how I felt about Ross Campbell's pencil work. Part of me felt like the characters looked too soft, as compared to the rough, intimidating turtles drawn by other artists. Yet, once I came to the end of the issue, I fell in love with Campbell's turtle designs, as I realized they were more fitting for action-light, character-focused story. There seems to be two kinds of Ninja Turtles artists: those who draw the turtles with pupils, and those who draw them without. Campbell falls into the former, which is perfect for allowing us to connect with these characters as they try to sort out their family issues. Even Master Splinter's tiny, black eyes are put to good use. The aforementioned panel in which Splinter allows his son to go out into the woods only shows a quarter of the rat's face, but somehow, through the use of shading and an eyebrow gesture, Campbell conveys Splinter's torment quite effectively.

After seven issues of grim, dark city streets, it's nice to see some bright colors in this book. The autumn leaves are soothing and provide a nice contrast to the hostility displayed between the characters. This issue justifies the rotation of artists in the series. While Mateus Santolouco's pencils for "City Fall" were dynamic and created an appropriate amount of energy for that storyline, I don't think his style would have been quite as appropriate for this story that Campbell draws so effectively. Overall, the art of this issue was a success.

Is there anything bad about this issue?

Obviously, no comic book is perfect. If I had anything to complain about, I would probably say that the April O'Neill/Casey Jones portion wasn't as effective as the interactions between the turtles. There are still some good moments; Mr. O'Neill's physical condition is heartbreaking. But, when they start to talk about Stockgen, I feel as if this part of the story is there for the sake of establishing the next major conflict in the Ninja Turtle universe. I understand the narrative purpose, and I don't think that the part with April and Casey is bad, but it does distract a bit from the major family conflict in this issue.

Still, if the low point of this issue is just something that is slightly less good than the rest of book, I can't complain much. Issue 29 reminds me why I'm itching to read Ninja Turtles every month. People who haven't been following the series might not understand everything going on, but I think the conflict between Raphael and Leonardo should be able to work for anybody. If you have been reading the series all the way through, pat yourself on the back, and continue with issue 29.

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles #29 gets an A.

Review: The Amazing Spider-Man #700.1

Or "Peter Parker: The Decimal Saga, Part One"

It's been a long time since I've made mine Marvel.

It's also been a long time since I've made mine mine DC. Technically, I never really made mine DC; I only read Batman. But, the point I'm making is that since the summer of 2012, I have avoided reading the mainstream superhero titles from the big two publishers. It's not me being a snob... okay, maybe a little bit, but I can explain.

That summer of 2012 was a major transition period in my lifetime. I had just graduated high school and was about to begin my journey through college. For a few years, I had a subscription at my local comic book store. The subscription service worked like this: you subscribed to at least five ongoing titles. Each week, if any of your five chosen titles had a new issue, the clerk would have it in a file for you at the front of the store; you didn't have to search the racks for that comic; you just went right up to the counter and asked for your books. By subscribing, you would get a discount on your purchase at the store. This discount applied to anything you bought, even items that weren't on the pull list. It seemed like a pretty good deal.

As time went on, several titles on my pull list ceased publication. Sometimes, I would also add or drop a couple titles to the list. When a title I subscribed to but also grew tired of went out of print, I would feel a tiny spot of joy; "yay! I don't need to drop four bucks on that piece of crap anymore!" Eventually, books on my pull list were ending their runs, and my number of subscribed titles went below the minimum of five, but I still got the subscriber's discount. On one hand, I felt like I was cheating the system a bit.  On the other hand, thank the lord that Mark Millar didn't make a fourth Ultimate Avengers storyline.

In Millar's defense, the first volume was pretty awesome. Also, I didn't hate the second Kick-Ass movie.

Now, we come back to summer, 2012. One day, I went up to the counter and asked to make some changes to my list. There may have been an addition (Ninja Turtles), but more than that, I wanted to make some subtractions. At that point, the guy at my store realized that there would now be fewer than five titles on my pull list. He informed me that if I couldn't bring the number up to five, I would no longer be able to subscribe. So, what did I do?

I ended my subscription. I thought that since I would soon leave for college, I wouldn't even get to the comic book store each week (this turned out to be bullshit; I went home every weekend in that first year, and I now commute). As I allowed the systematic destruction of my pull list, I had a revelation: these costumed thrillers I was obligated to buy on a monthly basis had started to exhaust me. I was tired to burning my time and money on the Marvel-DC comics system, a system that repeats stories over and over again. A system where, in one moment, the universe's status quo appear to be radically altered... and then, the editor-in-chief kills off the current version of the character and puts the original back in his place. The moment that my mom claimed might happen one day, the moment I argued was never gonna happen, happened; I grew tired of superhero comics.

(Before my mother claims victory, not so fast, mom. I only grew tired of Marvel and DC's mainstream superhero comics. I continued to read Dark Horse, Ninja Turtles, a couple indie comics, and those Japanese picture books. Also, I still don't watch professional sports. Sorry, mom.)

While I had stopped reading the big superhero titles, I hadn't stopped reading articles about them. During my retreat from superheroes, an interesting thing happened to Spider-Man; he switched minds with a dying Doc Ock. To me, the decision seemed strange, fascinating, and, based on a fundamental understanding of how superhero comics worked, destined to come to an end. This didn't stop several members of the moron community, who sent writer Dan Slott death threats, believing that Spider-Man would remain Doc Ock in Peter Parker's body for the rest of eternity.

Well, guess what, nerds. Peter Parker's back-- what's that? It's still Doc Ock? This is just a flashback?

Okay, I guess I should do the research before writing the review from now on. It turns out that this new issue of The Amazing Spider-Man (issue #700.1, because Marvel thinks people like decimal numbers) is the first part of a five-part flashback mini-series that I will call "Peter Parker: The Decimal Saga."I guess Marvel knew how many nerds were going to miss Peter Parker, so they decided to give him a nice five issues, since after all, it's not like they'll bring him back to life within the next year (I swear to God, they will). The first two-issue story in this five-issue saga is written by First Blood author, David Morrell. The issue I reviewed was illustrated by Klaus Janson. Having rambled on about my life history for long enough, I guess I'll start the review.

I'm serious; the Rambo guy wrote a Spider-Man comic.

The Story:

For this issue, David Morrell goes for a rather simple and classic Spidey narrative. Peter Parker is back at the Daily Bugle, working as a photographer under the employ of J. Jonah Jameson. In his spare time, he is Spider-Man. Recently, Peter has found his superhero duties to be quite stressful, and he's been losing sleep. On a November night, Peter visits his Aunt May, who tells him to take advantage of the coming blizzard and get some rest. In spite of his obsession with being Spider-Man, Peter stays at his apartment and tries to get himself a good rest. When a falling tree branch causes a citywide power outage, shenanigans ensue.

This is a slow book, but it's the good slow; yes, such a thing exists. We don't get much of the Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man in this issue; he is limited to a quick montage at the beginning and a few panels at the end. This is fine, since as many comics appreciators have noted before, Spider-Man is a character defined more by his secret identity than he is by his costumed form. We get the familiar character beats, like his relationship with Aunt May and his interactions with the Spidey-hating J. Jonah. Initially, I was a bit annoyed by the fact that J. Jonah was editor-in-chief at the Bugle and Peter was a freelance photographer. Last time I read the book, J. Jonah was mayor of New York, and Peter was working for a major science form; it seemed like a regression to return them to the dying newspaper industry. Then, I did my research and learned that the book was a flashback, so I decided to let these classic roles pass.

I really like how Morrell's script plays on Spidey's hero's complex. By giving us a montage of Spidey saving various people in New York and ending said montage with him commenting on how "there's always more to do," Morrell allows us to contemplate the limitations of the superhero. Regardless of how hard Spider-Man tries to keep his city safe, he can't save everyone. By asking Peter to get his rest, Aunt May forces him to try to overcome that hero's complex.

Therefore, it seems fittingly ironic that a concern for his loving aunt is what puts Peter Parker back into the Spider-Man costume at the end of the book. I think it is brilliant how, for once, it wasn't a robber or super villain that brought Spider-Man out; it was merely his fear for Aunt May's safety during the power outage. The story reminds us how broad this character's range of heroism is, and it also acknowledges how much influence Aunt May has on the character of Peter Parker.

Did the story blow my mind? No. But, for what it was, it was a nice little tale about what goes on in our Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man's head.

The Art: 

Your opinion of Janson's artwork will depend on your own preferences. Whoa, did I just suggest that art is subjective? Yes, I did! Janson's artwork falls in the middle ground between realistic and cartoony. Steve Buccellatto's colors lean towards the flat end. Personally, I enjoyed the way Janson draws the scenery and action scenes. A one-page spread of Spider-Man saving a cable car with his web really stood out to me, as did the image of a snow-covered field. The drawings of people were a bit more hit-or-miss. Don't get me wrong; they weren't bad. They just seemed a bit basic. Also, a quick way to determine how ballsy an artist is is to make note of how they draw J. Jonah's mustache. Janson settles for an inoffensive lip topper. Everyone knows that to show those readers that you just don't give a damn, you've got to give him the Hitler stache. Just ask the legend himself, Steve Ditko.

Rebel without a cause

An area where the book really succeeds is in its arrangement of panels. The order of words and pictures is easy to follow, and Janson is given adequate space for his most powerful visuals. Peter's struggle to rest is beautifully communicated through a sequence of equal-sized square panels, without heavy dialogue or sound effects. People don't always make note of the importance of panel arrangement, but it does make the difference between smooth reading and incomprehensible mess.

In Conclusion:

Is The Amazing Spider-Man #700.1 worth your time? Sure. The book won't redefine how you look at the character, but it will remind you of those elements of Peter Parker that have charmed readers and audiences for many years. I'm sure the book will work better if your read it with its second part. Thankfully, issue 700.2 is out on the shelves this week, as is 700.3. Don't go into it while thinking about continuity or the major implications of the Marvel universe; just prepare yourself for a nice, soft, low-key Spider-Man story. I'm sure it will make you feel better on the inside.

This comic book gets a grade of B.