“Justice League 3000 #4” by Marc Alan Fishman – Snarky Synopsis | @MDWorld
March 23, 2014 Marc Fishman 0 Comments
Written by Keith Giffen and J. M. DeMatteis. Art by Howard Porter and Hi-Fi.
Here it is, kiddos: The big, ultra-secret, hyper cryptic, mega-surprising origin of the future Justice League! Issue #4 of ‘Justice League 3000′ features Keith Giffen and J. M. DeMatteis’ reveal of the who, what, when, where, and why of the titular team that has thus far been shadows of their former selves. To those of you reading along? Stop here. The simple review: it’s OK. Nothing that going to make you desperate to get the next issue, but nothing so terrible you don’t keep on keeping on for at least another installment. The rest of you still here? Let’s go ahead and spoil the crap outta this book, and dive into exactly why my column is named ‘snarky synopsis’.
So, the Justice League 3000 are not quite themselves. And they’re not clones. What they are is a genetic parasite grafted OVER another human being’s DNA. So, take test subject A, put him into pod B, inject him with chemicals and nano-tech C, and out comes a D-bag Superman. Ariel Masters, the mastermind (natch) of the Justice Leaguers, has buyers remorse. That is to say, she left before launching the program. And in doing so, the Wonder Twins (who hate that name, because, duh), just went ahead and finished where Masters bailed. The result? The dickish Superman, Mean-As-Morrison Batman, the war-mongering Wonder Woman, the dead-but-not-but-really-is-
When we last left them, they were ‘saved’ by the Sheriff of Takron Galtos – Earth turned into a post-apocalyptic wasteland prison planet – and are on their way to meet the aforementioned Masters. Well, big surprise: the sheriff was in fact of the Five, the evil ne’er-do-wells of the galaxy. This comes late into the issue, of course, leading to issue #5 where there will be invariably more punching and Super Douchery. Elsewhere in the issue, the wunderkin make themselves up a replacement Flash, and pair him with a fresh-from-the-oven Firestorm for a rescue mission. And even elsewhere, the pocket-pal Hal minces words with his would-be capturer, Locus. Locus is (in case you forgot) a godly pre-teen, who is revealed to not be so young, but likes Miley Cyrus enough to capture her essence (with a few shades of Lohan for spunk). They have a lovers quarrel, she monologues a bit, and he escapes. Except that she’s a god, so, it doesn’t go well. Better tune in next week!
Not so much, Mr.’s Giffen and DeMatteis. Not. So. Much. The big bombshell they drop comes as little to no surprise. No matter how hard they pitched during pre-production to Newsarama, CBR, and Bleeding Cool… makes no difference when their true story was hinting at the whole non-clone idea from the start. And to make matters worse for me, I find it pedantic that they feel by not making Justice Clones, they are somehow being novel. The same morally ambiguous argument can be made whether a clone or a human host turned mutant-Leaguer should be considered a fully sympathetic character. In short? Sure! They both have emotions. They both feel pain. They both can be have moral compasses, ethics, and empathy. In this case, the novelty of an added layer of injustice given the implication that the volunteers were likely not aware of the whole process of being genetically reconstructed isn’t enough to hang a whole story on. Not yet at least.
Moving beyond the surface here, there’s potential for the book to become more than it appears to be. The Five, in this case, find that all the destruction they’ve wreaked throughout the universe is in fact reactionary; with Cadmus and order being the machine to rage against, if you will. And if our future metahumans can perhaps call on shades of their former selves (the hosts, if you will), there’s seriously some fun to be had. If however, we end up with more excuses for Howard Porter to show off his slick designs, and make more excuses for punching, kicking, power blasting, and continually angst-riddles pathos? Then we’ll be left with more bloated fluff from DC. Something that at this point would not phase me in the least. As I’ve continued to peck and pummel the New 52 for it’s foibles, it’s only because they start with banal concepts (new costumes! Grittier stories! GLOW EFFECTS!), and choose never to finish strong so much as just move on to the next reinvention. These books akin to Justice League #3000 give us false hope that there’s still reasons to have hope in the first place. But the key will always be in the follow through.
Normally I’d touch on the art, but my stance hasn’t changed since my review of issue #1. Howard Porter makes pretty future-looking boobs, muscles, tattered capes, and detailed backgrounds. Hi-Fi coat every inch of the book in fancy knockouts, glows, smoke, haze, and photoshop trickery. Because the book is set where it is? I’m not bugged by it. Are any panels memorable? Not really. Do they have to be? Nah.
Suffice to say I started off on this book with little to no hope. I was pleasantly surprised by the initial offering, but subsequent issues quelled that pretty rapidly. J.M. DeMatteis and Keith Giffen are monumental talents when no one is necessarily looking. Here, they reach for the stars, and pull down flickering lights at best. The big secret it out, and the onus is on them now to make it matter. At this point? I’m as indifferent as most of the cast within the book. Growing morally corrupt saviors is cute. Without a reason to care about the DNA over-written? Superdicks just be douches. And I don’t care what worlds die because of it.