Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles #21, by Marc Alan Fishman – Snarky Synopsis | @MDWorld

April 28, 2013 Marc Fishman 0 Comments

 

Story and Art by by Kevin Eastman, Script by Tom Waltz

For those who follow my column at ComicMix, they will no doubt know my love of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. I grew up with them. I have essentially followed their careers from their first cartoon up until the present. I admit though, that I knew nothing of their comic book counterparts. Whilst I knew the basics—that Peter Laird and Kevin Eastman mocked the current love of ninjas and Frank Miller-dom in the 80s by parodying the tropes and producing TMNT—I simply never “got on board” with their run in pulp. Knowing that, I’d been tipped to an interview of Eastman on CBR wherein he pitched issue 21 as being a great jump-on point. To his credit, I didn’t need to know much if anything about the previous 20 issues of the series in order to read #21. Of course there is one thing Eastman didn’t add in his interview… that this comic is an atrocity.

Now, this column is called ‘snarky synopsis’ because I have no qualms using hyperbole to show my true feelings. TMNT #21 is a front-to-back predictable, ugly, boring chore of a comic book. It is so bad in fact I read it twice to ensure I wasn’t missing an obvious wink and a nudge. I wasn’t. I’m in quandary as to where to begin to dissect its impotence.

How about we start with Eastman’s ‘story’. When he pitched the basic premise to CBR, it was obviously good enough to lure me in. After returning to New York from a trip to Dimension X, the Turtles are confronted with a master assassin who promptly teaches them that while ‘Ninja’ is in their nameplate, they are in fact ‘ teenagers’. In other words? They ain’t done learnin’ yet. This concept was novel to me. Very much in line with the current Nickelodeon series. By reminding the audience that our titular heroes are very much at the dawn of their journey… there are countless adventures awaiting them. For all intents and purposes? The turtles still have to grow up. To his credit? Eastman delivers that pitch in this book. And only that makes it to the page. Well, I guess he could also add in that the Shredder shows up for two pages… but that might have spoiled the whole issue! Simply put? The story here, with or without my knowledge of the premise, is shallow.

Spoiler alert! The master assassin? Splinter. See! It was all a test. Of my patience mostly. From the literal first shot we see of this “villain”, it’s beyond apparent who is behind the mask. And it’s not the visual that do it, then it’s the shoddy scripting. Roger Ebert, in his review of the first live action Turtles flick, lamented that “the only way to tell them apart is their bandanas and weapons.” Clearly Eastman and Waltz took that as a compliment. Where the Nickelodeon show boasts some characterization to each Turtle, here in the confines of the page, the TMNT act as a singular voice. A singular, plot-advancing voice. For being teens… they aren’t trivial, or trite. And while I’m not necessarily looking for a “Cowabunga” or “Booyakashah!”, I scoured the book looking for any real personality. Sadly, the minimalistic dialogue does not even relinquish a singular “rad”.

And then of course there is the art. Eastman’s heavy inks show an obvious homage to Frank Miller. But where Frank was graphic in his use of blacks—utilizing shadow and shape to dynamically move the eye—here we just get a book that reads like a teenager’s interpretation of German Expressionism. And while the Turtles grimace and yelp, and get tossed throughout the scenery… when actual humans make their way to the page, they reek of bad proportion, and misshapen forms. The biggest disappoint in the art though really comes through the complete lack of story-telling. Eastman crams panel after panel to show off the kung-fu action… but never did I feel like I could visually tell what was actually occurring in the fight; not without the running commentary provided by all who were already fighting on panel. The awesome Brian Stelfreeze once told me that the key to making a good page of a comic was to show the action in panel, and never be forced to use the dialogue to close a gap where the visuals don’t communicate what’s necessary. Perhaps I’ll sew that into a nice throw pillow and mail it off to IDW.

All in all, I am beside myself with disappointment. Perhaps this is where I truly show off my newly growing Daddy skills. You see after reading Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles #21, I was not mad. I wasn’t angry at the shallow and predictable story. I wasn’t livid at the sparse and personality-less dialogue. I wasn’t filled with rage over muddy art that tries too hard and clings to a style that wore out it’s welcome years prior. What I was, and am… is sad. Sad that the creator of something that brought me so much joy in my life, returned to his creation only to have reduced back to the joke it once was long before the oodles of IP cash came pouring in. I wanted so very much to like this book. Instead, I will try hard to forget it exists—and go watch more of the new cartoon.