[A new guest review from Zach King, who blogs about movies as The Cinema King]

After spending several months immersed in the magic mirror of Grant Morrison's The Invisibles, it's time to take a page from the book of Monty Python and declare, "And now for something completely different." In the wake of Doctor 13 and his daughter Traci's role in Flashpoint: The World of Flashpoint (an event which I followed in single issues, because the way it was to be collected hadn't been made clear then), and with Brian Azzarello and Cliff Chiang reuniting on Wonder Woman in the New 52, I knew all I needed to know before adding Doctor 13: Architecture and Mortality to the list for my weekly visit to my LCS.

With the DCnU now upon us, the book is strikingly relevant when it explores characters left behind, but for a book that's all about meta-commentary on continuity it's surprisingly (and perhaps disappointingly) self-contained.

[Contains spoilers]

The good Doctor 13 has been having some strange dreams -- a caveman warning him about "The Architects," a boy genius in Superman pajamas charging a dime for answers, and a ghost pirate dying in the doctor's arms -- but none of these rattles Doctor 13's trademark skepticism (although a bizarre seduction dream involving his daughter Traci seems to do the trick). While investigating a plane crash in the French Alps, Doctor 13 and Traci are attacked by a yeti, who reveals himself to be I, Vampire in disguise. After calling a truce with the vamprie (although denying his claims to vampirism), Doctor 13 soon finds himself caught up in a bizarre alliance with a "Who's Who" (pun intended) of forgotten DC Universe characters, including Anthro (the caveman of the doctor's dreams), Genius Jones (the boy of his dreams), Captain Fear, and Infectious Lass.

This misfit group runs headlong into the Primate Patrol, a settlement of Nazi-experimented gorillas, before demanding answers from The Architects, godlike beings who know exactly how the universe works and who bear striking resemblances to DC's then-Big Four (Geoff Johns, Grant Morrison, Greg Rucka, and Mark Waid; DC published the Doctor 13 series as a backup to the post-Infinite Crisis miniseries Tales of the Unexpected at about the same time as the popular weekly series 52).

To spoil the fact that this is a metafictional adventure Doctor 13: Architecture and Mortality is to spoil a bit of the fun of reading the book, but it's also one of the only ways that this book can be marketed, it seems. Try getting someone to pick up a Doctor 13 comic, and you'll likely find blank stares (check the sales for The World of Flashpoint if you think the 13s can headline a book). But tell them it's a metafictional romp through the detritus of the DC Universe, and any continuity-hound worth his or her salt will be rushing toward this book with fond memories of Animal Man and other fourth-wall-shattering comics like Final Crisis (the red skies throughout Doctor 13 simply must be a reference to the crossover that would follow).

But the other meta-texts mentioned above have one thing in common -- they were all written by Grant Morrison. Indeed, Brian Azzarello seems like an unlikely choice for a comic about comics; granted, I'm not familiar with his entire oeuvre, but I had trouble remembering that this is the same guy who out-grittied Frank Miller with Batman: Broken City and penned the darkly hardboiled (yet marvelous) 100 Bullets. But Azzarello shows significant depth as a writer here, because at no point does Doctor 13 feel like a writer experimenting out of his comfort zone. Instead, Doctor 13 is appropriately playful, an attitude helped by artist Cliff Chiang's masterfully cartoonish yet fantastically fashionable figures.

To Chiang's credit, each of the characters in Doctor 13 has a vibrant look and a spot-on wardrobe choice that both instantly identifies and quickly defines that character. The slightly campy Captain Fear is dressed in an over-the-top Halloween pirate costume, and Count Julius (alias Pryemaul) the Nazi vampire gorilla has several "variant" outfits that reflect his allegiances to either the undead or the Third Reich.

Yet it's with the spunky yet sexy Traci 13 that Chiang really shines. Traci 13, the plucky daughter of our skeptical protagonist, is never misdrawn in a panel but rather has the perfect facial expression for the situation, as well as a dynamite selection of clothing that slinks in all the right places -- but never gratuitously. Chiang knows that Traci 13 isn't simply eye candy, and to his credit he never treats her as such. Instead, his work is reminiscent of Amanda Conner, who made a name by treating Power Girl as a character instead of as cleavage with superpowers; both Conner and Chiang are masters at faces and conveying emotion and personality without resorting to stock supermodel poses. Chiang's work was a delightful surprise for me, enough even to commit me to following his career for life. [Ditto -- loved Chiang's work on issues collected in Green Arrow/Black Canary: The Wedding Album and never looked back -- ed.]

The draw to this volume, though, was the aforementioned "continuity hound" drive. I'm a huge fan of metafiction, which explains half the reason I have the Tiny Titans trades on my pull list. (The other half? It's just too much well-done fun to turn down.) All this Morrison-love in my blood has conditioned me to appreciate continuity and insider references, and Doctor 13 doesn't disappoint there.

The major crises get a shout-out, and when the Big Four show up wearing the masks of the DC characters with whom they're associated (Morrison wearing Batman, Waid wearing The Flash, etc) it's difficult for long-time readers not to feel that little thrill. But for those selfsame continuity hounds who love the carefree collision of continuity and creativity, it's similarly difficult not to feel let down when Doctor 13 alludes to a sequel -- "Team 13 in The Quest for Fear!" -- which never (to date) came to pass.

In fact, considering the appearance of the Doctor and his daughter in Flashpoint, the stage would have been set for a Team 13 book in September 2011. But alas, the continuity-phobic atmosphere of (most of) the New 52 had no room for metafiction, and the Azzarello/Chiang team moved on to reinvent Wonder Woman (which, in single issues, has been a real treat). So what we have here is a one-off, appropriate for the genre of metafiction. And really, where else could the series have gone? It's only a matter of time before Ambush Bug arrived, and . . . well, hey, that's not such a bad idea after all.

As it stands, Doctor 13 is a fun volume which portends greater significance than it actually lives up to, but it's also a pleasant reminder of the old 52 and the joys of continuity. But beyond all that, Doctor 13: Architecture and Mortality is a well-told story with vivaciously delightful visuals and an unexpected sense of humor.

[Don't miss Zach's insightful look into Grant Morrison's complete Invisibles series. New reviews coming up!]

It should be enough simply to say that The Spectre: Crimes and Punishments, a collection of just the first four issues of writer John Ostrander and artist Tom Mandrake's 1990s Spectre series, has a glow-in-the-dark cover. I have owned a copy for almost twenty years, and the front cover still reveals a spooky second image when you turn out the lights. To my knowledge, this is the only DC Comics collection with a glow-in-the-dark cover; that alone would seem to me to make it worth picking up this book if you can find it for a good price.

... Need more than that to go on? OK, fine.

Spectre: Crimes and Punishments is the lead-off of a brilliant and, dare I say, definitive depiction of this character by Ostrander and Mandrake. In the annals of comics, among instances where the writing adds as much to the art as the art does to the writing, Ostrander and Mandrake's Spectre is a foremost example.

[Contains spoilers]

Let's look at the first couple pages of the trade, page by page:

PAGE 1: Splash page of troubled-looking street. This is Siegel-Bailey Hospital (after the Spectre's creators), but even the hospital sign is cracked. Note downtrodden-looking people behind Jim Corrigan, knocked-over garbage can, man with scull shaved into his head in the foreground -- even the kids playing have an element of violence to them. Incongruous is Corrigan, in a clean, pressed, old-fashioned suit. You can look at just this one page and learn volumes about Corrigan, his personality, and how he'll interact with his surroundings, letting alone that this is not a throwaway page but rather the details are important just a few pages later.

PAGE 2: If page one didn't set the book's tone well enough without even any story, these first two panels do the job. Panel one is somewhat routine comedy of Corrigan dealing with an overworked nurse; in the second panel, much to the nurse's surprise, Corrigan disappears. Again, we immediately understand Corrigan to be a man out of step with his surroundings; we also get a bit of his sense of humor. The third panel introduces supporting cast member Amy Beitermann in an instant; in the fourth, very subtly, the shadow of the Spectre is superimposed on a dark curtain.

This is perfectly scary -- the Spectre simply looms, still, against an otherwise normal backdrop, and you can just imagine the audience gasping at the same reveal in a movie.

PAGE 3: The first two panels, almost identical, except the first is the Spectre and the second is Corrigan. If a reader didn't know the relationship between the two, they know now, with barely a hint of exposition. Corrigan continues to question the hospital patient Louis Snipe in a manner than cements him as a hard-nosed detective.

PAGE 4: We now understand the overriding conflict of the Spectre series, that Corrigan is tired and worn out from "confront[ing] evil" but constantly failing. The shadow of his elongating fingers over Snipe's face is a spooky hint of the Spectre's ghostly power, to be revealed later.

PAGE 5: The perfect conclusion to this sequence and set up for later stories. Beitermann tries to offer Corrigan counseling but he rebuffs her, with the Spectre in his eyes for just the reader to see. Corrigan is there one minute and outside the next, just the same as he did to the nurse, but this time Beitermann sees, and the story's off and running.

Later in the first chapter, Ostrander does actually re-tell the Spectre's origin, and fleshes out Corrigan's transformation to the Spectre in the last chapter. I venture, however, that the reader knows more than enough about the Spectre to enjoy these stories just from the first five pages. It's a great example of writer and artist working together to provide visual clues, not just exposition, to make meaning and move the action forward in a story.

Each of the four issues collected in Crimes and Punishments is relatively self-contained, with the most connection between the third and fourth. In the first, Corrigan tries to end his time as the Spectre by taking vengeance on Snipe, but re-lives his own death instead; in the second, the Spectre does more harm than good trying to solve a murder, and we learn the Spectre's failings; and in the third and fourth, we learn more about Corrigan and his transformation to the Spectre as he draws Beitermann into his own soul and ventures into hers. A four-issue trade is about unheard of now (and at $9.95!), but it functions as a successful primer to this series; the only downside is that no additional collections followed.

Though there is no "mature readers" label on Spectre, Ostrander and Mandrake certainly toe the line of what was allowable in DC Comics in the 1990s (a line now unfortunately almost too far past to see). There are the Spectre's gruesome punishments, of course -- people set on fire, shot to death, and withered to rotting corpses. There's at least one female demon presented bare-breasted (maybe it passes the censors because it's a demon) and a number of semi-nude figures more akin to Mike Grell's Green Arrow than the Superman titles of the time. I'm also not sure that Ostrander gets enough credit for including a regular supporting character with AIDS in the series, something which was at that point often reserved for DC's "mature" Vertigo line. All of this makes Spectre something different not only in terms of storytelling but also content -- this is far from "just" a horror book.

I re-read Crimes and Punishments on occasion, and what I'd forgotten from my last visit to this most recent is how flawed Ostrander presents Corrigan. Far from a valiant cop murdered by thugs, Ostrander's Corrigan dealt his own brand of justice even before he became the Spectre, massacring two sets of gangsters without remorse. Ostrander also portrays Ostrander as an honest product of his times (circa World War II), ordering his wife around with equal hubris. When Snipe and others murder Corrigan, it's due as much to Corrigan's own pridefulness as the bad guys themselves. I think I tend to imagine Jim Corrigan and the Spectre much like Jason Blood and the Demon, a type of Jekyll and Hyde, but in fact Ostrander's Corrigan is more like the Spectre than he wants to admit.

I haven't heard hide nor ghostly hair of the Spectre in the new DC Universe, possibly because Spectre is most associated with the Justice Society. On one hand, a Spectre series would fit well with the modern horror titles in the new DC Universe; on the other, I frankly just can't envision anyone presenting the Spectre better than John Ostrander and Tom Mandrake. Another thing I've heard lately is talks of a Spectre TV series; my hope is the writers would not go the Quantum Leap route where Corrigan inhabits bodies a la Deadman, but instead follow Jim Corrigan solving mysteries with the help of the Spectre's powers, like Crimes and Punishments second issue.

Certainly, I hope the writers use this book as source material, because they couldn't do much better -- and if a new Spectre series or television show finds its way to life, that it brings with it more collections of Ostrander and Mandrake's Spectre -- an omnibus, even? -- along with it.

[Contains original covers. Introduction by John Ostrander. And it glows in the dark.]

Happy Halloween, everyone! New reviews on the way.

Collected Editions is celebrating Halloween with not one, but two scary reviews this week! If you want a gory, gruesome comic book for your Halloween celebration, The Spectre: Tales of the Unexpected is a trade paperback for you (if not for me).

I face a reviewer's dilemma in writing about Tales of the Unexpected. I didn't like this book and would likely never read it again, and yet I fully realize it's not the book, it's me. Writer David Lapham, known for his crime fiction, presents a blood-soaked story in the spirit of the old EC horror comics and the well-known Michael Fleisher/Jim Aparo depictions of the Spectre. To that end, trying to judge this book on its own merits, I would have to say yes, it accomplishes successfully the goals it sets for itself and had a place as thoughtfully-written comic book literature. But personally -- I was done even before the scene of the sobbing man being forced to kill himself by devouring his own intestines.

Fool me twice, I guess. I picked up this book even though I had a similar reaction to the first volume, Crisis Aftermath: The Spectre, mainly because this book promised to involve Batman -- significant because this iteration of the Spectre is former Gotham Central cop Crispus Allen. Be not misled, however -- Batman appears for one issue only, and he doesn't discern Allen's identity as predicted (though Lapham does deal with Allen's identity, and a number of Gotham Central guest stars, later in the book). I did enjoy, however, Lapham's perspective that Batman sees the Spectre not as a fellow hero, but as a serial killer, one that we know Batman would just as soon see in Arkham if only he was able.

But better than Batman's appearance is one by the Phantom Stranger, in a chapter illustrated by former Spectre artist Tom Mandrake (whose great run, with John Ostrander, begs for a full series of collections). Here, Lapham lets the Stranger allude to all sorts of things regarding the murky relationship between Allen and the Spectre entity -- that Allen can control the Spectre instead of just going along for the ride, that Allen can choose the Spectre's victims or temper the Spectre's anger, and that Allen and the Spectre may not be two entities, but rather that Allen's in control and just can't accept the horrors he's committing.

This suggested a deeper plot thread for Tales of the Unexpected, more than just the Spectre revealing who committed the murder at Gotham's Granville apartments, but rather some story about Crispus Allen and the nature of his new "life" as the Spectre. Unfortunately, I felt this was one area Lapham didn't quite finish what he started; we get an inkling that Allen can save a victim or slow the Spectre's vengeance when he tries, but this was not so clear as to give the reader a good sense of the "rules" of the post-Infinite Crisis Spectre. Perhaps it's that I hoped for some happy or hopeful ending to this story, but true to form, Lapham leaves us with a gritty of Allen essentially cursed to follow morbidly along behind the Spectre's mayhem.

If you did enjoy the first volume, you'll find that Lapham took good care with the hints he dropped about Granville along the way, and ties all the clues into the denouement. No doubt it's clear from the outset that more than just one tenant participated in the murder of Granville's seedy landlord, but who did what -- and in the end, to what additional lengths they go to hide their secrets -- is satisfactorily explained, if you have the stomach for it. Me, I'll take my Spectre a little more superhero-y and a little less bloody, thanks.

[Contains full covers.]

More scary stuff coming up later in the week with Showcase Presents: House of Secrets. Don't miss it!