Holy Snokes...
Art by: Michael Walsh
Colorist: Mike Spencer
Letters: VC's Travis Lanham
Publisher: Marvel Star Wars
Publication Date: 1 August 2018
Oh boy, four issues down, two to go. If ever a book needed a stellar creative team, it was this one. If ever it needed inspiration and meaningful supplementary content, it was this one. If ever a book needed stellar art as a balm for the most awful storyline, it was this one. We haven't had much respite and care in the first four issues, truthfully I don't hold out much hope for this one changing that course. Maybe we'll get a good standalone issue though? Let's see.
Nope. This book if anything is worse than the last issue. I have to start with the art. It is just awful. I know that Michael Walsh has worked on some decent enough books in the past. So what is going wrong? Are the deadlines being rushed? If so why? The film has been out for over 8 months, and let's face it, it isn't like Marvel could possibly be coming under any pressure from any fans to get this book out to them in a hurry. My main fascination (horror) in this issue was with Holdo's neck. What is going on? Why is Walsh making her look like a giraffe? It is appalling. Meanwhile, we get a Snoke that looks like Charlie Brown on meth and a DJ that Walsh can't even be bothered to draw eyes on in one panel. Terrible, and I don't blame Walsh, I blame editorial.
Meanwhile, there is the writing. God almighty. What is Whitta doing on this book? He is supposedly a screenwriter (whose credits include Rogue One) albeit one with a little bit of comic book experience. I don't know what he is bringing to this process aside from a cut and paste from an awfully developed script and a terrible plot. Whitta brings precisely nothing to this book. Nothing. Oh well, at least in comic book form the Throne room battle scene doesn't have the cinematic magic of a Praetorian guard's Vibro-blade disappearing via in post-production CGI to avoid it killing off Rey prematurely. Oh dear Star Wars. Whatever happened to standards?
An awful adaptation of an awful film proceeds in the words of Yeats (okay not quite) to slouch like a rough beast towards Crait to be born. Just avoid this book. Even if you liked the movie you'll find nothing here to add to it, and a lot of bad art to detract from it.
The art is terrible.
ReplyDeleteNice Yeats reference, btw. Although it's probably wasted on this... :)