Resurrection Man #6, by Marc Alan Fishman – Snarky Synopsis

February 12, 2012 Marc Fishman 2 Comments

Written by Dan Abnett and Andy Lanning
Art by Fernando Dagnino

Don’t call it a comeback! Well, maybe you should. Seems Mitch Shelley has a bad habit of not staying dead. And every time he makes his way back to the mortal coil, he gains a nifty new super power. Part Dial H for Hero, part 90’s backwash, Resurrection Man was an odd surprise when it was announced to be a part of the new 52. Here we are 6 issues in, and frankly, I’m hoping someone puts a bullet in the book, so it too can reset, and gain super clarity. Issue 6 was simply terrible, and it’s a shame really. I want to like this book. But it’s hampered by a glut of problems, that need to be addressed.

Starting from the top down, my biggest issue is Shelley himself. Given that I did not read his first incarnation (circa 1997), I don’t yet know what his motivations truly are. The first 4 issues of the series played the “drop into the action, and explain later!” philosophy… so, characterization took a back seat to splashy action sequences, and excuses to show big boobs. The story (told through screaming, bullets, and a lot of grimacing) was that Mitch was a wanted man. Heaven and Hell are steamed that he isn’t in either of their poker games. By the end of it all, Mitch found a way to escape, got caught again, and was subsequently tossed into Arkham Asylum. The only true glimmer of hope came at issue 5, which provided a bit of actual backstory. No telling if it was the “true” origin of Shelley or not… But it was the first time where we had our protagonist not in a state of panic or angst. Issue 6 pretty much dismisses that more enjoyable plot line to spend an entire issue in the stereotypical “hospital from hell”.

Stop me if you’ve heard this one. Everyone thinks Mitch is a loony. They keep him drugged up, to shut him up. When he’s lucid, he tries to start fights, and babbles incoherently. The guards are all mean to him. There’s a waft of corruption. Our Resurrection Man gets himself thrown into the “badder than normal” section of the prison, err, hospital. And then, there’s a riot—yadda yadda yadda—he escapes. Our coda? He returns to seek vengeance on the corrupt guard who mistreated him. For a book that features two writers, I don’t know whether to be doubly shocked, or doubly disappointed. It’s almost as if “DnA” picked up a copy of every fictitious trip to the nuthouse, and tallied off the plot points to fill 20 pages. While I’m sure their script was intended to be a break from the initial plot, and get us to a new status quo, instead, all we really get is a retread of several movies we’ve already seen. But with some super powers.

What could have saved this mediocre drivel would be the obvious. Shelley is in Arkham-God-Damned-Asylum. If this isn’t an opportunity to put him face to face with a venerable who’s-who of the best rogues this side of comicdom, than I don’t know a thing about comics. Instead, we’re treated to D, F, and Z-class morons like Professor “He was creepy in 2007” Pyg, a guy named Sumo, and one guy I could only describe as “Thin and Short Benjamin Franklin”. Seriously. If Abnett and Lanning went to Disney World, this book would be the equivalent of opting to stay at a Holiday Inn around the corner, and visit the Monorail, instead of Space Mountain. But I needn’t waste my metaphors beating around the bush. Simply put, they had a real opportunity to give us something unique, and instead, gave us a big fat guy named Sumo. If it was a joke, I’m not laughing. Even if they were to opt out of showing us the A-Listers cooped up in the loony bin, they could have at least given Mitch more to do than be kicked a lot.

Even more disturbing to me, was the plotting of the issue itself. The aforementioned riot that occurs happens without any whiff of foreshadowing. No character talks about it, until literally, the cell doors swing open, and someone shouts “Let’s Go People! Time To Leave!”. It was as if God himself, tired of the book going nowhere, drummed up a big ole’ deus ex machina. And just in time too. Mitch fires up his electricity powers, pisses off Sumo (who I won’t bother looking up, cause I’ll be damned if it’s not just a truly ignorant and racist villain idea), who in turn snaps his neck. The next panel? Mitch resurrects as a Hulk. Next page? Mitch is shot in the head. I wish I was kidding here. It truly felt like they realized 5 pages too late they had to wrap up the story, and just hit fast forward. Cue the exciting action sequence!

All of this could still manage to be acceptable in my book (I don’t like to think I’m asking for Alan Moore in every book I read) had they spent even a panel giving me a shred of detail on who the hell Mitch Shelley is. He only speaks when it demands the plot move to the next beat. When he’s alone, his inner narration (a window to his inner thoughts! a chance for characterization!) boasts “I wake up with a clear head for the first time since I got here.” Riveting. In essence, Resurrection Man is only a set of powers. Where Swamp Thing has spent it’s first 6 issues getting us into the head of it’s protagonist (who I might add ALSO has had a recent bought of amnesia/resurrection/reboot-itis), so we could feel a connection to the character… This book is content to just keep hurling plot beats at it’s characters, rather than deal with any emotion besides “bewildered angst”. This might have flown in 1997, but not on today’s shelves.

The art, as delivered, fits the book well enough. Overly exaggerated stereotypes vogue for the viewer at crazy angles. Dagnino is adept at figure work no doubt, but suffers from what many of the other new 52 has as well; all style, no substance. Everything is shined up in effects and saturated in inks. No one has a subtle emotional expression. Instead, we get wall to wall screaming, muscles, fights, flames, bolts, screams, and punches. And suffice to say, when we get to the eventual riot scene, Dagnino is all too excited to draw every mort in Gotham posing perfectly as they run towards the camera. Never mind that no one in their right mind runs with both arms out in that “I’m gonna gettcha!” pose while making a break for an exit door. The icing on the cake? When ole’ Mitch returns to lay a little beat-down on his would-be captor at the books’ end… he’s sporting Doc Manhattan powers, and is sporting trench-coat. All it needed was a katana, thigh pouch strap, and maybe a four-barrel laser rifle. Suffice to say, the art (while pretty) only enhanced my seething hate for the book as I flipped page after page.

Ultimately, I want to like this series. The first 5 issues, while uneven, was building to something interesting with it’s Heaven/Hell story. Despite the syrupy 90’s clings to every page… I can tell that there is real love for the character here. They simply haven’t nailed the pacing enough to get me emotionally invested in the character’s drive. And when he can’t die, we face a literary room-without-an-exit. We have no end-goal in sight for Mitch Shelley. Without it, the book is like a fish on land… flapping and flailing, without ever dying. Issue 6 has set off my “Warning Light” of doom. Sad to say, if issue 7 doesn’t do an about-face, I plan on burying this book. Here’s hoping if I do, it won’t come back any more predictably banal.