"That Healing Touch" Part One
Writer: Greg Rucka
Artists: Matthew Clark(p), Andy Lanning(i), Richard and Tanya Horie(c)
After reading the last issue of Action Comics I struck it off my pull list. Now, I didn't want to totally give up on the Superman titles like I did with the Batman titles. So I decided to give Adventures of Superman one more try.
I gave Rucka's premiere issue high marks, but really all you would have had to do was make the issue readable to surpass the decade of rot that had decayed the book's roots. He did better than that, but when I heard about his plans for Lois, I felt the road to stupid was a mighty short trip.
The problem with the Batman titles is that Batman's not in them. While Superman is sort of in this story--sort of--the tale does not belong anywhere near Superman or any other iconic hero for that matter.
Let's discuss the exploitation content in the art and to a lesser extent the story. There must have been a lot of sexual fantasies associated with the Wonder Twins about which Super-Friends fans such as myself who didn't give a rat's behind what happened to the Twins were unaware. First Chuck Austen gave us Sodom and Gamorra, who were at least a couple and not related, but now we get the new but not improved Parasites. What do they have to do with the Wonder Twins? Well, it's like this. The sister first activates the brother's power by touching him. Rucka and Clark then have them slinking naked all over each other and sharing power while in apparent orgiastic bliss. Yes, indeedy. Comic books aren't for kids any more, but adults may not want to read them either.
Incest isn't the only element of exploitation to be found in Adventures of Superman. Why do all the women of the cast sport cachongas the size of volleyballs? Lois has a set on her that would make the late Russ Meyer salivate, and the Lieutenant whose name escapes me and whose name escaped as well a dialogue mention just ups the ante.
Now if this were a bad movie, you would not hear any complaints from me, but this is Superman damn it! There were always hot, sexy women in Superman comics: Lois, Lana, Kara, but they didn't distract you with their cleavage from the story. They certainly didn't show even more cleavage as the panels progressed. You think I'm kidding. When the nameless Lieutenant interrogates Replikon she's showing enough cleavage to say yep, I've got them. Take a gander, but in two pages when she meets Superman up on the roof of wherever the hell they are, you can clearly see thanks to yet another friggin' close-up in the hundreds, nay thousands to be found in the claustrophobic cinematography her bra. Now, maybe the nameless Lieutenant has the hots for Superman, and she's saying here, big blue baby, take a grander look at my tetons, but she shouldn't be flaunting her frill-foiled floppies when allegedly she's concerned over her missing men--the incestuous Wondersites. I mean what was she thinking? We're going to discuss the case revolving around two people I care about. Ooooo, I'd better unbutton my blouse.
Apart from a made for television badness exuded by the quantity of covered T, the book also fails to deliver an interesting threat. The main villain looks like Darth Maul. The copycat is mighty dull, and he's obviously Pete Ross off his cracker. He sends the Wondersites to Clark Kent's apartment, and Pete is the only person not of the super-hero community or in the family that knows Superman's secret identity. No super-villains knew of Superman's secret identity either.
This leaves the story. Rucka provides adequate dialogue, but there's no happiness in the tale nor a sense of wonder. Everything seems ultra-serious and unexciting. If you want to experience a truer version of Superman, watch Smallville.
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