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I was expecting to review Soldier X #1
this week, but Marvel have
omitted to actually publish it. And quite honestly, I really
can't
summon up the faintest interest in westerns. So here's a
miniseries
no-one cares about, the tail end of a storyline that long
since
bored most readers into resigned submission, a Simon Bisley
reprint book, and the annual Oni catalogue.
Let's start with the final issue of Muties, another of
those X-Men
miniseries which nobody pays much attention to. In fairness to
writer Karl Bollers, this series has improved considerably as
it's
gone on, as later issues haven't had quite the same
heavy-handed
"social issue TV movie of the week" feel to them. Even though
I
don't consider the miniseries a success, I'm still quite
pleased to
have seen it publishsed - Bollers is obviously trying to
stretch
his range with this series, it's given exposure to some
generally
good artists, and if nothing else, it wasn't a safe and
obvious
thing for the X-office to commission. Of course, the nature of
risky commissions is that quite a lot of them don't work, but
it's
for the best that Marvel were prepared to publish this.
The final issue brings back artist Salgood Sam, and takes us
to
Northern Ireland. It's a story about a mutant called Liam who
has
borderline controllable explosion powers, which is clearly
very
convenient for the local terrorists. They duly enlist him
against
his will, and you get the general idea.
Fortunately, we're spared most of the usual platitudes about
the
reasons why terrorism is a very bad thing. The focus is more
on
the kid being dragged into the campaign against his will than
on
the underlying merits of the cause. It's not too bad, taken on
that level, but the issue suffers from a rather mangled
version of
Northern Ireland.
For one thing, the Irish accents are hideously overplayed. If
I
could ban one thing from comics for all time coming, it would
be
phonetic accents. I despise the things. They almost invariably
fail to sound remotely like the accent they're aiming for (not
least
because they always assume that the reader has the same accent
as
the writer). And they invariably make every character sound
like a
complete twat. The story gains no authenticity whatsoever from
having its cast wandering around delivering dialogue like "Oh
me
saints alive, if yer da' could see th' shenanigans th' two of
yeh're up ta!" This does not convey Northern Ireland. This
conveys
Fairyland. (Oh, and by the way, "the gardai" is the Republic
of
Ireland's police force, not the north's.)
The motivations of the terrorists are also left a little
obscure.
I would assume that they're supposed to be trying to derail
the
peace process, which is why they're bombing their own
community.
But I have my doubts that this is going to be readily apparent
to
most American readers. I suspect that the obscurity results
from
a deliberate decision on Bollers' part not to set out clearly
whether the terrorists are Catholic or Protestant, but he'd
probably
have been better off just choosing a side and sticking with
it.
The art is impressive, though, and goes some way towards
making the
setting more convincing. Heavyhanded crucifixion symbolism
aside,
the last three pages are a very effective silent sequence.
It's really not so bad an issue, but the unrelenting
Oirishness
of the dialogue is a serious problem.
Rating: B
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