Another decent From the Ashes book held back by poor execution and unneeded humor.
Writer | Mark Russell |
Illustrator | Bob Quinn |
Colorist | Jesus Abertov |
Legacy Numbering | |
Content Rating | T+ |
Publisher | Marvel | 08.14.24 |
Spoilers Ahead
Stop me if you've heard this one before: Marvel puts out a semi-decent comic book, but self-sabotages it by stuffing it full of cringe-inducing humor. As it was with Amazing Spider-Man #54, so too is the case with X-Factor #1, which is a fairly decent comic book that refuses to take itself seriously. Which is a shame, because the premise is actually somewhat intriguing: the government is funding a group of mutant superheroes to help take down mutant threats. Why? Because with Krakoa gone, all of the mutants who were living there have now emigrated to different countries. This has resulted in world governments wanting to swoop on mutants that can be used as military assets, creating something of an arms race, but of people, not weapons.
That sounds pretty good, right? There's also a character named Rodger Broderick, a television producer that has decided to take America's mutant contingent, X-Factor, and turn them into TV stars. His rationalization is that mutants are primed to be the next media hit; get the public to love mutants via X=Factor, and the team will become a sensation that he can make tons of money off of. Broderick's military connections aren't too thrilled with his approach, especially because his team lineup isn't all that impressive. Outside of Angel, it's a squad of also-rans and nobodies—Feral, Firefist, Xyber, and Cameo. It's at about this point that we start to see X-Factor interacting with the public, and this is also where writer Mark Russell starts to make mistakes.
X-Factor has gathered for a red carpet debut, replete with paparazzi and media personalities hoping to interview the new team. Russell, like so many contemporary comic book writers, can't seem to take his own story seriously. X-Factor is treated like a joke, with the public booing and jeering the members of the squad. Now, there's some plausibility to people reacting like this, but the larger problem is that even a longtime hero like Warren is acting like a fool as the scenario plays out, asking Broderick sarcastically if he's being "paid by the like." I sincerely think that Warren wouldn't be doing this for social media clout, so why would he be worried about what people have to say about him online?
The entire scene plays out in this tongue-in-cheek fashion, which totally pulls the reader out of the moment. Note that this idea of a superhero team being part of a big media push is nothing new—look no further than Mark Millar's The Ultimates back in the day. But where The Ultimates played things straight, X-Factor is straddling the line between parody and drama, and not in a good way. I've noted in previous reviews that I'm not an X-Men historian, so forgive me if I'm wrong, but I don't see longtime heroes like Angel and Feral being remotely interested in YouTube reaction videos to the team. Russell, via Broderick, already has the character he needs as an outlet for some of the humor he clearly wants to inject—keep it away from the rest of the cast.
One fascinating takeaway from this scene is that there's a group of mutant extremists called Refusenix. They don't want mutants to reintegrate into the human world and hate X-Factor, seeing them as sellouts. Broderick gives a spot-on summary of Krakoa, saying how Refuseniz are these hangers on that can't let go of Krakoa, remembering it through rose-colored lenses as a perfect utopia. Part of me read this as meta commentary on the strange bit of X-Men fandom that obsesses over Krakoa for political reasons, but given the way Russell has approached this story, especially the ending, I'm not sure that he wants the reader to side with Broderick's assessment. Regardless, it was another layer of nuance that used the legacy of Krakoa in a good way.
Percolating in the background are Havok and Polaris, who seem to be going through a rough patch over the former wanting to join X-Factor. In another positive for the book, there's some decent setup put into play here, namely that Alex knows that if mutants are going to survive, it has to be among humans. He's aware of the mutant arms race that's going on, and that governments are going to be using mutants for their various plots and schemes, so he wants to be there to help keep things from going south. If the X-books are going to continue to reference Krakoa, I feel like this is a good, natural way of doing so—by acknowledging that time has passed and addressing how to reintegrate into the world.
At one point, Alex refers to Polaris by her real name, Lorna, which upsets her. She proclaims that she's a mutant and that her name is Polaris, Later, Havok pulls away from Lorna and tells her that his name is Alex. It was a great scene showing off the ideological divide that has grown between the two. Lorna seems to have become fanatical from her time on Krakoa, while Alex remains sound of mind. This sort of tension and drama is what good comic books deliver. Why Russell can't lean into this more, I don't know, but I hope as the series progresses that he will.
Back with the team, they've come together at what is being called the Factor House, which is a large mansion acting as their headquarters. Russell once more inserts pointless humor via a caption that says it's in an undisclosed location, but also (giggles) "the Hollywood hills, or somewhere nice." I'm sorry, but huh? What? Why is this a joke? Why are we supposed to be laughing right now? Is X-Factor a gag comic or is it something I'm supposed to be taking seriously? Eventually an alarm goes off and it's time for the team to go out on its first mission.
Earlier in the issue, Havok had been talking with the mutant Darkstar, who was attempting to recruit him to join a new mercenary group she's running called X-Term, a mutant paramilitary unit that will fight for whoever has the cash to pay them. Well, it seems that Broderick has decided that X-Term is going to be X-Factor's first target, sending the team out to destroy their headquarters and capture Darkstar. As has been the case the entire issue, I found myself so frustrated with how the setup for something thoughtful and impactful is right there and Russell simply refuses to take advantage.
For instance, as the team is beginning its assault on the base, it's clear that newcomer Xyber isn't ready to be on a mission. He's panicking, forcing Angel to help get him from the plane to the ground, and as the attack progresses, he eventually starts to get himself under control and begin using his powers in an effective way. Good stuff! But here comes Russell with the jokes to ruin everything. Firefist fights a robot assailant who talks with goofy dialogue ("you are tickling my circuits!"), and before that is quipping with Cameo (who's a shapeshifter) about how he's supposed to be able to distinguish him from the guard he'll be replacing. Feral even joins in, wryly telling Angel how she's never set off plastic explosive before. It's like Russell wrote this comic like it would have a laugh track inserted into it.
I again ask, why is the reader supposed to be laughing here? Why is this a joke? Because the severity of the situation becomes quite clear when, after the explosives are accidentally set off, most of the team dies in the ensuing chaos. Xyber appears to get away unscathed, but Feral is punctured with pieces of rebar all over her body, Cameo is dead, Firefist, too, and Angel is wounded, seemingly to be replaced by Havok. Russell could have taken the horror of this mission going sideways with so many mutants getting killed for no reason and done something really, really powerful with it. But no, it's laffs and chuckles, folks. It's funny and ironic! Or something.
The last page features the lineup for next issue, which consists of Havok, Frenzy, Pyro, Xyber, Cecelia Reyes, and Granny Smite. The book cheerily proclaims to tune in next month to see who will get killed, as though this is a selling point. Yes, the narration seems to be from the viewpoint of Broderick, or some intern writing social media copy, but it's also clearly being directed at the reader, too. To which I say, why am I supposed to look forward to Russell killing off characters for shock value and laughs? This stuff is supposed to mean something. And maybe he's trying to show everyone that the stakes are high once again now that mutants can't resurrect themselves anymore, but this isn't the way to do that.
As the new squad is being shown off for yet another red carpet debut, Broderick's conversation with Angel in his hospital room is interspersed across the panels. He's telling Warren that he's figured out how to get the public to like X-Factor: that Americans hate mutants, but they love mutants who hate themselves. He also says that these people are driven by fear and that they only care about narratives, not the characters in the story. I pointed out earlier that Broderick had made a decent point about Refusenix but that Broderick isn't presented as someone we should be rooting for, thus suggesting we're not supposed to agree with what he says. This bit of dialogue from him cemented the notion that Broderick isn't supposed to be someone the reader likes.
Russell is wearing his politics on his sleeve as he writes X-Factor. On the one hand, it's a book about governments wanting to stock up on mutants to use in their various conflicts, while the person who runs the team wants to make them superstars and run the whole outfit like a reality TV show. It's a premise that is rife with story possibilities. On the other hand, X-Factor is where Russell wants to make social commentary that pushes his own ideology. I thought it was especially insulting reading the line about mutants who hate other mutants, as this is the sort of toxic banter bandied about on social media where minorities who don't ascribe to views they're "supposed" to have are invalidated and ostracized. I don't know that this is for sure what Russell is promoting, but it certainly felt that way after a couple of reads of the issue.
And that bit about the characters not mattering... good lord, could that have been any more of a meta wink and a nudge at the reader? Throughout the issue it's hammered home that this is the B-team of mutants, but Russell is sitting there almost smugly telling the reader, "this is an old comic book technique, where the series features lesser characters but we make you care about them because the story is so good!" Yes, Russell, that certainly can work, but it's far less effective when you're breaking the fourth wall and telling the reader that's what you're doing.
I feel bad for artist Bob Quinn because he did a wonderful job drawing this issue. He nails the superhero action well, with some excellent shots like Angel saving Xyber, Firefist fighting the fireproof robot, and so on. It's his "acting," or rather, the emotions he's able to convey via characters's faces, that really impresses. Sadly, I think Quinn was selected to heighten the "humor" from Russell, but even in the non-funny moments, characters emote convincingly. Quinn is a keeper, Marvel, but we need to get Russell on his level so that this book has a shot at some staying power.
Argh, this is so frustrating. I wish I was the editor on X-Factor. I would have sent this script right back to Russell and said, "get the wink and a nod meta junk out of here, don't diminish the stakes, and play everything straighter. You have a good premise with an interesting mix of characters full of potential. X-Factor as a government-backed team of mutants is packed with stories to tell." Instead it's "hee-hee, are they in the Hollywood hills or aren't they?!" and "isn't it funny how Warren is here but, like, doesn't really want to be here?" I am begging you, Russell: cut the fluff, reign in the humor, and this book will be great. For now, it's a mild recommend with the hope that issue two will be better.
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