Writer: J. Michael Straczynski
Artist: Esad Ribic
Publisher: Marvel Comics (Marvel Knights)
Editor’s Note: The first issue of the four issue Silver Surfer: Requiem limited series appears in stores this Wednesday, May 30.
Average Rating: 
Dave Wallace: 
Tobey Cook:
Michael Deeley:
Kelvin Green: 
Thom Young:
SPOILER WARNING: The following reviews address plot developments of the issue.
Dave Wallace: With this issue J. Michael Straczynski kick off his long-awaited Silver Surfer project under the Marvel Knights banner. Whilst it’s still not clear exactly what function this re-purposed publishing imprint is going to serve (Kaare Andrew’s recent Spider-Man: Reign was a futuristic “elseworlds” story in all but name, whereas this book seems to stick much closer to current Marvel continuity), it does at least seem to give creators slightly more freedom to take chances with established characters – in this case, JMS’ decision to give the Surfer a life-threatening illness which leaves him with only weeks to live.
Straczynski is evidently keen to make readers care about his protagonist, and for a character who has historically been fairly flat and removed, that’s not an easy task. JMS wisely grounds the character of Norrin Radd with some exploration of his backstory - including his relationship with Galactus and the Fantastic Four - and eases off on the impenetrable pseudo-philosophical angle, preferring to let the visuals convey the grandeur and wonder of the Silver Surfer’s galaxy-spanning adventures. Yes, there are quite a few moments of contemplation as the Surfer muses on his own morality and mortality, but it’s all very immediate and relatable, with Straczynski injecting only the slightest sense of the Surfer’s inhuman nature into his inner monologues.
Some light relief comes with the appearance of the guest-starring Fantastic Four, but even they can’t quip their way out of the seriousness of the condition faced by Norrin; whilst the nature of his complaint may be fairly fantastical, the emotional content is pitch-perfect, and the metaphors for real-world debilitating conditions such as cancer or AIDS are thankfully underplayed, never straying into the kind of soap-opera melodramatics which could undermine such a serious story. Considering that this is the same writer who brought us the fudged Spider-Man: The Other, which dealt with a similar subject matter, I’m pleased to see an altogether more elegant approach taken here.
Esad Ribic’s art is quietly impressive, with a realistic painted style which is
reminiscent of Alex Ross’ work on Marvels. Whether called upon to illustrate the astronomical beauty of the opening starscape, the energetic sci-fi experiments of Reed Richard’s laboratory, or the ridiculous sight of a giant purple-helmeted devourer of worlds, Ribic gives these fantastical concepts a sense of realism to complement the grounded nature of the book’s story. The elegant artwork never goes overboard on the visual excesses of the genre, matching his style to the low-key, placid and downbeat tone of Straczynski’s tale, but still managing to make a fairly static story visually engaging.
In some ways, Requiem is reminiscent of Jim Starlin’s classic Death of Captain Marvel story, taking one of Marvel’s high-powered, cosmic characters and giving him a very human weakness. Whilst it’s hard to say whether the series will prove as classily poignant as that excellent graphic novel, Straczynski gets off to a good start here, telling a surprisingly human story with real emotional weight and which features some very attractive artwork. A pleasant surprise.
Tobey Cook
When I found out that JMS would be writing a mini-series featuring the Silver Surfer, one of my all-time favorite Marvel characters, I was a little apprehensive. While I enjoyed JMS’work on Babylon 5, his work on Spider-Man and Fantastic Four has left me less than impressed. However, after reading this issue, I can tell you that JMS is best in his element when he is given a concept grounded not only in humanity, but in the wonder and excitement that realms beyond Earth can bring to a potential reader.
Esad Ribic is the artist on this book - or rather, I should say he’s the painter. His style evokes the best elements of painters like Dave McKean and Alex Ross while taking a much more fantastical bent. His version of the Silver Surfer quite literally shines on every page he appears on.
The story begins with the Silver Surfer musing about the universe and his place in it and realizing he may not have much longer to live. He seeks out Reed Richards to confirm this and is told that while he is protected from every environment known to man as well as the rigors of space, he is not invulnerable, and his body is beginning to break down.
JMS offers some fantastic characterization here in his dialogue. The Surfer’s realization that he does not have long to live gives him a newfound purpose and an optimistic outlook on his eventual demise. I really enjoyed that perspective, because all too often characters who face the mortality of their existence wind up moping about as if they have nothing left to live for, and this was a refreshing change from that.
Michael Deeley Norrin Radd, the Silver Surfer, has witnessed enough miracles to fill a thousand lifetimes. He has served Galactus, the Devourer of Worlds, and rebelled against him. He rediscovered his lost conscience thanks to the Fantastic Four. Since then, he’s tried to atone for his past crimes and bring peace wherever he went.
And now he’s dying. The silver skin that protects his body is breaking down, killing him as it does.
I’m glad JMS is writing this story. I liked his recent work on Fantastic Four and Amazing Spider-Man. He’s got a solid grip on the characters’ voices. The bickering among Mr. Fantastic, Thing, and Human Torch is spot-on. The Surfer sounds alien and alone, awesome and awed. This will be the story of a powerful being facing the end of his life (and most likely his rebirth). Personal tragedy against the backdrop of infinity is exactly the combination of extremes that keeps me reading comics.
Unfortunately, the promise of this epic is dulled by the painted art of Esad Ribic. And I do mean “dulled.” The colors look washed out and muddy. There’s a blurry quality that makes everyone look indistinct and out-of-focus. Some parts remind me of Alex Ross’ style, like the montage of Galactus’ and the Surfer’s first visit to Earth. But it only serves to emphasize the problems with Ribic’s art. It lacks the definition found in Ross’ and other artist’s work. A light inking job would have been a big improvement.
At this point, I don’t know if this story will end with the Surfer’s death, his transformation into something else or a miraculous cure. The ending will determine the quality of the complete story. After all, this is about a powerful being facing death. If he doesn’t actually die, then it’s a waste of time, isn’t it?
Kelvin Green Oh dear. You know, this isn’t a bad comic really, but it’s trying so very hard to be something big and important that it’s fallen flat on its serious-looking silver face.
As has sadly come to be expected from a Silver Surfer title, this is dreadfully pretentious stuff, as we’re treated to interminable musings on the essential meaning of life and death, complete with great big globs of poetry chucked in here and there to show how Serious and Intelligent it all is. The Surfer mopes around the Fantastic Four’s home for a bit, silently contemplates his reflection, and ponders the fragility of the life of an insect as it crawls on his finger. This is painfully leaden and obvious high school imagery (the insect is a metaphor! DO YOU SEE?), but it seems that we’re actually supposed to take it seriously. I think we’ve perhaps all become a bit post-modern and ironic for this kind of thing to work; Nextwave could probably get away with a naked silver man quoting Dylan Thomas while riding a flying surfboard, but I’m not sure you can play it straight nowadays.
I think Esad Ribic’s painted artwork is also intended to make me think that this book is Important and Proper Art, in keeping with the ponderous pretentiousness of the writing, but it’s all rather washed out and blurred for my liking, as if I’d forgotten to wear my glasses before I started reading (and why is it all so pink?). I get the feeling that, because Ribic used a paintbrush, I’m supposed to fall to my knees at the beauty of it all, but there’s nothing striking or distinctive about the art here; it’s good solid superhero storytelling, certainly, but it’s no more than that.
For such a hyped project, this really is very sedate, inconsequential, and worst of all, predictable. Back in the day, Stan Lee and Jack Kirby created a really goofy character in the Surfer, but managed to somehow bring out a sort of highbrow nobility in the concept, which Stan and John Buscema (and Moebius!) later expanded upon, with great success. Since then, we’ve seen umpteen attempts to repeat that formula, but they all seem to be treading on familiar ground, rehashing the superficial aspects without bringing anything new to it. Beyond the MacGuffin about the Surfer’s death, there’s nothing here that you won’t find done just as well or better in the work of Lee, Kirby and Buscema (and Moebius!), and I can’t help but wonder why they bothered.
Oh of course, there’s a film out. Silly me.
Thom Young: In the past, I have not been a big fan of J.M. Straczynski’s writing. I love his concepts (such as Babylon 5) but usually find too many mechanical problems in the scripts he actually writes—primarily, bad dialog.
However, I began to have high hopes for this story after only the first two pages. It opens with the Silver Surfer narrating about a “cosmic hurricane” that has winds that blow at more than a million miles an hour and that originate from the explosive deaths of massive stars. These cosmic hurricane winds spew out elements from the exploding stars that then fuel the birth of new stars at a faster rate than is usually seen in the universe.
Why did I suddenly elevate my hopes for this series because of that passage? Because Straczynski is accurately describing a phenomenon that scientists have recently observed in a distant galaxy.
The second page of the story shows the Surfer staring at a blurry image of a galaxy known as Messier Object #82 (M82). It’s one of the 110 cosmic objects that Charles Messier cataloged in the 18th century. He was looking for comets, and the 110 objects he cataloged are things he saw through his telescope while hunting for comets.
Of course, the Silver Surfer probably couldn’t be viewing M82 up close since it’s 10 to 12 million light years away (e.g. the image we see of it when we look at it through a telescope is how it looked 10 to 12 million years ago). It wouldn’t look like that “now” if the Surfer could actually traverse the 12 million light years in a blink of an eye with his Power Cosmic.
It’s also doubtful that he could be viewing a similar phenomenon in our own galaxy since it is unlikely the Milky Way can produce such an event since it is much younger than M82. Still, M82 does indeed contain a “cosmic hurricane” in the manner that Straczynski describes on page one of this story. (See this article.
Despite the improbability that the Surfer could actually be that close to a cosmic hurricane, I’m willing to give Straczynski artistic license here because I’m just glad that a writer actually attempted to capture the true magnificence of the cosmos (reasonably accurately) instead of trying to sell us a bunch of complete nonsense like, “The planet Thanagar is located in the ‘Polaris Galaxy’ at the center of the universe.”
I suppose it could even be argued that the Surfer would be capable of traveling back in time 10 or 12 million years in addition to covering 10 or 12 million light years in the blink of an eye. Regardless, Straczynski’s use of his artistic license is warranted here because M82 is an appropriate symbol for this story that is supposedly about the Surfer’s forthcoming death.
For one thing, Reed Richards told the Surfer that part of his dying process would feel like every nerve in his body is going nova—which becomes a reflection of the explosive deaths of the massive stars that fuel the cosmic hurricane that the Surfer observes on the first two pages.
M82 is also an appropriate symbol because Straczynski’s first issue re-tells the Surfer’s origin—how Galactus gave birth to the Surfer to ride the cosmic winds and/or energy waves that permeate interstellar space in search of inhabited planets on which Galactus could feed.
Thus, the story:
- Recounts Galactus’s role (symbolized by the M82 galaxy) in the death of Norrin Radd (symbolized by the dying stars) who was reborn as the Silver Surfer (symbolized by the new stars).
- Recounts the eventual rebirth of Norrin Radd’s consciousness in the Surfer under the tutelage of Reed Richards (again symbolized by the new stars born in M82).
- And, finally, foretells the death of the Silver Surfer/Norrin Radd that is the result of his break from Galactus thanks to the interference of Reed Richards (with Richards symbolized by M81, a neighboring galaxy that collided with M82 and facilitated the destruction of the old stars).
Up to this point, this book has the complexity of symbolism along with the underlying philosophical implications that I look for in anything I read—comic books included. There are only two things that I didn’t like about Straczynski’s writing here:
- The symbolism might be a bit too heavy handed, and
- The incorrect butterfly analogy that the Surfer uses after Reed tells him he has only about a month left to live.
Except, of course, Norrin Radd isn’t a butterfly—or is Straczynski setting up the symbolism that will reveal that the Surfer isn’t really dying and is only getting ready to shed the cocoon of his silver shell to be reborn yet again as something even more cosmic?
I can’t see Marvel allowing Straczynski to transform the character that greatly—not with The Rise of the Silver Surfer getting ready to hit the silver screen all around the world.
Additionally, the Surfer’s optimistic outlook in which he tells Richards that he’s “blessed” because he can outlive two generations of Monarch butterflies goes against the allusion to Dylan Thomas’s “Do Not Go Gentle Into that Good Night” that the Surfer made on page two, “The path that one day calls all of us home . . . at the dying of the light.”
Do not go gentle into that good night.In other words, rather than optimistically accepting that he can outlive two generations of butterflies, the allusion to Thomas’s poem seems to suggest that the Silver Surfer should be preparing to “rage, rage against the dying of the light.”
Rage, rage against the dying of the light. (lines 18-19)
Thus, instead of turning into a cosmic butterfly who sheds his silver cocoon, I suspect the Surfer is going to eventually rage against his death, and that an appeal will be made to Galactus to repair the Surfer’s silver shell so that he can ride the cosmic hurricane winds once more. Of course, Galactus will acquiesce only after being defeated in battle.
If Straczynski is on his game (and I said earlier that I think he has a grasp of concepts), then this should be a fine series despite the writer’s occasional problems with dialog and other mechanics of storytelling. My main problem with this first issue isn’t with the writing; it’s with Esad Ribic’s painted illustrations.
At times, Ribic truly captures the fantastic nature of these characters—as when he shows the majesty of Manhattan in the background as the Surfer floats outside the Baxter Building on page five. However, he uses a blurry line that always makes the figures look out of focus—almost in the manner of the French Impressionists, but not quite.
On its own, the out-of-focus images aren’t a problem. In fact, as paintings of these characters in these settings, some of Ribic’s impressionistic images are truly great. Yet, as panels in a story, I find they often work against the narrative—especially in contrast to the sharply defined lines of the narrative boxes and word balloons.
It might have worked better if Ribic had also created the narrative boxes, the word balloons, and the lettering. He could have done them in the same style as his painted illustrations so that the visuals would not have the jarring dichotomy of his impressionistic work in contrast to the mechanical appearance of the text.
All in all, though, I appreciate a series that reaches for higher standards even though it contains a few flaws that keep it from being as great as it otherwise could be. I’ll definitely pick up the second issue to see if Straczynski maintains the symbolism and allusions that he put into the first issue.
What did you think of this book?
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