Post by Disgruntled Gremlin on May 20, 2008 3:53:30 GMT -5
Apologies for starting a new thread, but it seems I’ve missed the hubbub on the issue 7 thread in my quest to remain spoiler free. I think I’ve raised enough points that my frustrations toward the First Night merit a new section. I should warn, this might look like an enormous rant to you, but I’m doing my best to be constructive and fair in my criticisms. My complaint here is against the First Night story section – I seek not to convert you to my whiny ways, only to express my distaste in an eloquent fashion for you all to consider and evaluate.
And Brian, if you’re reading and would like to jump in, I would be nothing but flattered : ) You are doing a bang up job, and even if I take issue with a, well, issue, the completist in me won’t ever miss one.
On with the analysis!
When I finally got around to reading the latest issue, and found it much more enjoyable than #6 (which I’ve liked less and less each time I read it), but I still can't shake the feeling of superfluousness (superfluosity?). Mutant Enemy always seemed to recognize that giving fans exactly what they want is dullsville. (this would be the reason that ninth grade fanfiction we all mailed to the WB where Buffy and Angel get together and have lots of little Connors somehow got lost in the mail...) First Night still feels to me like excessive Fanservice -- it answers the questions we've been asking forever, and not much else. There's little character development here -- in fact, there's very little characterization at all. While the problems here aren't half as bad as the "Spike" or "Lorne" stories we got last ish, this is the second time in two months that I've questioned "did I really need to buy this?"
Covers
The A Cover is a mixed bag – good likenesses that aren’t too photorealistic, but it’s hampered by Gwen’s bizarre pose. The Spike variant is nice, and anyone who thinks comparing him to the 1990’s Batman cartoon is unflattering must be on another planet. Still, there’s no excusing the fact that one hallucination aside, Spike isn’t in these books; cover A wins hands down.
Betta George
Here’s where the problemos start for me. Betta George's story is supposed to link the other stories together, right? Despite this, I see no clear thematic link between what happened to him here and what happened to Kate, Connor, and Wes. There was no direct plot thread tying them together either, so why was this strategy used? The snippets we got here and last issue are so brief, it's hard to feel like a cohesive "Betta George" story is being told -- it reads to me more like we're getting a random framing sequence to fill pages, and stories like Kate’s here and Spike’s last issue desperately need the space to breathe.
Don't get me wrong, George is fun character -- I love the thought of a giant telepathic betta, and he was used very well in "Spike: Asylum" (though IMO he was just window dressing in "Shadow Puppets"). However, the storytelling in this sequence is simply unacceptable, especially considering this is IDW's flagship title.
Here’s what I mean: In the second panel from the top on page one, we can see that Douche Lackey (you know who I mean) is being beaten up by Spike at a carnival. Why does he suddenly appear to be...encased in a bubble? Made of cardboard? He's back to normal by the bottom panel with no explanation. I realize that continuity things like this are cut to save page space, and I don't need every detail of a sequence spelled out for me in the art as some readers seem to suggest, but I would like some basic hint as to what's going on here.
Then, there's the mysterious "help" bubble in the final panel of page one, which seems to have no relation to the George story, or the Wesley story that follows it. It's not in the same font or colouring as any other balloon in the issue. It could potentially be a lead in to the Kate sequence, but that doesn't appear until the halfway point. Who’s saying this? What gives?
The last page did nothing to change my distaste for this story. I have absolutely no idea why Geoge is asking "How did you --" in the top panel, or what power he had to kill/die for. As far as I could tell, Douche Lackey somehow got in front of George...which means his super power is, um, being able to outrun a big floaty fish? I assume this power will be a plot point later in the series, which will surely have readers who shrugged off this sequence in confusion scratching their heads later. By the bottom panel, George is covered in those web...things again, but how? Is that Douche Lackey's power? Did he do something to him offpanel?
To be fair to Lynch, he's not given himself very many pages to work with, but that doesn't forgive the frankly bizarre storytelling that rendered these sequences incomprehensible to me. Some blame also has to fall on artist Tim Kane. I don't mind his stylized interpretations of the vampire and the slayers -- in fact, I'd love to see how his minimalist angles would benefit someone like Illyria. Aside from the one-panel Spike bit, however, there are no familiar faces to be found. Douche Lackey is drawn a little generically, but at least he has the shaved head to set him apart in future issues. His George has improved, but he still looks too little like a betta and too much like a trout with really weird fins. The real problem, though, is the way he's staged the story, which for me rendered what should have been a quaint bit of filler into something frustrating.
I hate to be a snickerpuss (actually, it's a blast, but one of those cartoon forest animals in "Bambi" told me it was rude), so I should point out that two interesting things DID happen in this take. The first:George's dialogue and characterization is spot on -- even folks who haven't read "Asylum" or "Shadow Puppets" should by this point have the general idea of a sarcastic guy who happens to be a floaty telepathic fish. It's nice to see his continued admiration of Spike, too.
Then, the slayer thing, which I honestly found a twinge disappointing -- with the slayer issue being dealt with so splendidly on Buffy, it would have been nice this Angel series stand on its own. Clearly, though, Lynch is not interested in holding back from using all the favourites (issue 5, cover A much?), which is fine so long as characterization isn't sacrificed in the process. From here, this could turn into either a very cool shout out to continuity buffs, or a lame writer's crutch -- too early to tell. I'm curious as to how multiple slayers were obtained and trapped in a hotel basement without the obvious use of any shackles, but given the magic precedent in this universe, I'll give Lynch the benefit of the doubt. Still, I'm not convinced that there wasn't a better way to introduce this detail -- as is, it's pretty clear that issue 8 won't wrap up that plot thread, so why introduce it here?
Wesley
This is definitely my favourite First Night story, and I suspect it’s the reason the series was originally planned. The images of Wes floating up to cloud nine reminded me of the dream sequences in S5’s “Soul Purpose,” and although the eventual cheat was obvious, it was still effective. This tale served as a nice reminder that Wes is still the badass of S3-4 at heart, not a dorky whipping boy (or a vessel for the First Evil, a theory that I initially jumped on quicker than you can say “non-corporeal”). The characterization of Wes is much closer to what we’ve seen on the show than the butchered caricatures of Spike, Illyria, Connor, and Lorne we were “treated” to last month, both honouring the character and pushing his story forward.
However, I still have to question how necessary this story is. Up until this point, it has been unclear what Wesley’s role is in Hell. Now, it’s made explicit that his current situation is exactly as it appeared – he’s being forced to work for Wolfram and Hart, but is still rooting for Team Angel. Any betrayal, as hinted at in the tantalizing last panel, will result from him being duped by the Sr. Partners, not an action of his own doing. Dramatically, that is something of a disappointment, but it still leaves lots of interesting doors open.
However, the story is not without its problems. One is the creature impersonating Fred. Who exactly is talking here? Is it one of the Sr. Partners speaking directly to Wesley? Considering how little interest the Sr. Partners ever took in Angel directly, this would come as a bit of a shock. Although I’m sure Angel’s threat status has been upgraded to B-list nuisance post Not Fade Away, I still find it hard to believe they would let the Jasmine thing slide and then take the time to dress up to fool one of Angel’s “flunkies.” No, it seems the entity here is the long-forgotten, never-explained, better-forgotten Conduit from the White Room in S5, a plot-device-as-character that basically exists to do whatever the hell the writer wants to do with it, and bubble it’s talking to represents the voice of the partners. While the Conduit here seems to serve the role of temptress nicely, its characterization is liable to be so fluid that I can’t muster much interest in it as a recurring villain – I hope this is the last we see of it.
This is one case where casting a familiar face would have been entirely welcome – imagine the thrill of Wes hopping into Bed with Fred and revealing undead Lilah Morgan instead? Cool? Yes. Consistent with what we’ve seen before? Yes. Sexual tension? Yes, yes, and yes! Undoubtedly, the reason Lilah (or Eve, or another directly identifiable figure) wasn’t used in this capacity is that we’re supposed to be shocked by the sight of this evil being impersonating Fred. Problem is, we’re used to Illyria hanging out in her face, so the irony seems less diabolical than sorta mean spirited. Then there’s Nick Runge’s art…
Honestly, I get the complaints about Franco Urru but I really dig the guy – his cartooniness, his rough detail work, his palindromely surname, and his sometimes smush-faced but almost always recognizable likenesses. Here, I feel like Runge is trying a little hard to nail Amy and Alexis, with results that are hit-and-miss for me. In about half the panels, Fred looks just like her old self. At the point of her big, naked reveal, however, she could well be Lilah if not for the hair. Wesley’s “If this wasn’t a Lie” grimace is perfect, but Fred’s smile and his corresponding look of disappointment look like outtakes from their drunken escapade in “Life of the Party.” I’m sure Runge will find his groove, but I would still much prefer a relatively consistent character design panel-to-panel than a an attempt to directly recreate an actor’s face with various success depending on their position.
Likeness issues aside, there’s little to complain about in the art (perhaps a little overly detailed shading in the shadows, but nothing major). As I mentioned, the layouts of each panel are top notch throughout. Unlike the George story, it’s perfectly clear where our attention is supposed to be and how each panel relates to the next spatially. The unnerving way Wes’ uniform change is staged is a particular highlight for me. Also, anyone who has ever felt a pang of attraction for a dude should be cheering for the close up on Wesley’s ass. It totally redeems the bad Fred likeness in that panel. At last, some equal opportunity man-candy to assuage the (frankly, correct) feminists who cried foul at the gratuitous shots of Spike’s lady friends earlier in the series. Although, when did Fred get so busty and curvaceous? (that’s how Wes should’ve been able to tell her apart: evil boobs)
Despite Lynch’s great ear for dialogue and mostly-great if imperfect art, this story still feels very simple. From the twist onward, little was given aside from exposition, and while we’re invited to feel for Wesley, I didn’t find myself exactly reveling in his pain. I mean, the guy just died – surely there was a bit more tension that could’ve been wrung (note the w) out of that? This is a well told story, but not a particularly memorable or remarkable one, and certainly nothing to justify the horrid sixth issue. I’m intrigued with what the Partners have in store for Wesley, but I also feel like I wasted my time trying to look for subtle hints as to his motivation when it turned out to be pretty much what we all expected. Plot wise, everything here was expected. Thematically, this is well-tread territory. Translation: bored now.
KATE
Part II of our three-part Connor tale (I assume that Kate’s dealer is Gwen, which will continue into issue 8) was both a highlight and a letdown for me. First, the good stuff, which was pretty much summed up in the title. Kate Lockley was a fantastic character, and the role she’s been given here feels so right, it’s a wonder she wasn’t chosen over Gwen or Nina for a regular role in the cast. Her appearance was a genuine surprise (aside from her presence on the cover, and her name on the inside jacket), and as much as I adore Cordelia, I’m relieved that she wasn’t the mystery woman. I don’t care what anyone else has said – Stephen Mooney’s Kate looks fantastic, and the choice of attire was absolutely perfect for her. Of course, Kate is given very little to work with as she kicks some ass, runs, and goes back to kick some more ass, but it’s enough. She gets to prove she’s a badass and quickly fills us in on what she’s been up to, giving no more detail than absolutely necessary. If this sort of quick exposition could be achieved so neatly more often, there would be no need for a First Night series at all. The paraphrased Angel quote was a great way to sum up her character, and I genuinely hope we get to see more of her, if not here, then in some sort of spinoff?
On the other hand, there’s the kid on the receiving end of her speech. Connor doesn’t come across very well in this story. While he was always controversial on the show, this incarnation did absolutely nothing to endear himself to me in this issue. For a story billed as “how Connor became LA’s greatest champion,” he doesn’t get to do a lot. The three Dads thing was trying last month, and was downright annoying here. And the “a new voice to listen to” line felt forced – we get it, he’s a good kid now. In this case, good apparently means vanilla.
For a boy who spent most of last issue blabbing about what each of his fathers would do, he doesn’t seem to give a damn about Angel or his adoptive-non-father here. He was rushing towards W&H to save Angel, right? In that case, why does he lose all concern for his well-being now? Why isn’t he worried about what it means for Angel and his other Dad that a big ol’ demon army now knows that he’s Angel’s kid? Isn’t he concerned that the dad who “raised” him to be the model of mental health he is today might now have learned the truth, and could try to reject him? Or, say, the fact that both his powerless adoptive parents are suddenly stuck in hell without a protector? Apparently, that internal tension isn’t as interesting as seeing that yes, he’s STILL into older women.
In my comments for issue 6, I complained about Connor’s reaction to receiving his memories – it felt like a gigantic cheat that rather than him dealing with the fact that he willingly murdered an innocent girl (“Inside Out”), knowingly sacrificed dozens of followers to a false God (the Jasmine arc), and was so depressed that he nearly blew up a mall (“Home”), he went “eeew, I did Cordy!” along with the rest of us. That admittedly icky plotpoint is something no fan needed (or wanted) to be reminded of. More importantly, though, if we are to accept Connor 2.0 as the model of mental health, he should be a little more shaken up by the callousness he held toward human life, not just his inappropriate sexual shenanigans. In “Not Fade Away,” I bought his refusal to bond with Angel as a refusal to identify with that person. This is why their relationship was not intended to go any further than a little help with a resume now and then, but by the end of that episode, he had decided to put his personal demons away, and went to do the right thing and try to help Angel in the fight. Here, just a few hours later, he’s confronted with all those issues, and has absolutely nothing to say about them as if they never happened. Dis. A. Pointing.
I struggle with my feelings toward this story segment. On the one hand, there’s the great treatment of Kate, combined with solid story telling, snappy dialogue, and good artwork. On the other, we’ve reduced Connor’s supposed hero story to “boy goes to hell, boy almost gets hurt, boy gets saved.” Any bystander could have fulfilled this role, and this was a huge waste of a good chance to see what makes Conn 2.0 tick.
OVERALL
After the spectacular first issue, my interest in After the Fall has steadily declined. However, the First Night story is the first post S8 Buffyverse comics that I actively didn’t enjoy reading. To fit its page count, the Spike story left all the character bits on the cutting room floor, rendering it nothing more than an advertisement for Spike: After the Fall. The Lorne story’s mediocre rhyming couplets masked dull exposition that we could have figured out for ourselves. The Betta George story is filler hampered by terrible staging, and while the Kate story carved a great role for an old character, it utterly failed in its treatment of Connor. That leaves the Wesley story, an admirable but ultimately forgettable piece that still fails to give more than rudimentary insight into what Wesley is feeling right now. Yes, a few hints have been dropped about the tough times ahead, but wouldn’t it have been more fun exploring these plot points in real time than playing “let’s see what ___ did last week” for two and a half months? Angel: After the Fall is on such a tight issue count that it’s hard not to resent 44 pages of what has thus far been mostly trivial.
Tell me then, was this three issue side trip worth cutting page time from the main story? Have you had as many problems with First Night as I have? Is there something about the George story that I’m missing? Am I just being a snickerpuss?
Discuss!
And Brian, if you’re reading and would like to jump in, I would be nothing but flattered : ) You are doing a bang up job, and even if I take issue with a, well, issue, the completist in me won’t ever miss one.
On with the analysis!
When I finally got around to reading the latest issue, and found it much more enjoyable than #6 (which I’ve liked less and less each time I read it), but I still can't shake the feeling of superfluousness (superfluosity?). Mutant Enemy always seemed to recognize that giving fans exactly what they want is dullsville. (this would be the reason that ninth grade fanfiction we all mailed to the WB where Buffy and Angel get together and have lots of little Connors somehow got lost in the mail...) First Night still feels to me like excessive Fanservice -- it answers the questions we've been asking forever, and not much else. There's little character development here -- in fact, there's very little characterization at all. While the problems here aren't half as bad as the "Spike" or "Lorne" stories we got last ish, this is the second time in two months that I've questioned "did I really need to buy this?"
Covers
The A Cover is a mixed bag – good likenesses that aren’t too photorealistic, but it’s hampered by Gwen’s bizarre pose. The Spike variant is nice, and anyone who thinks comparing him to the 1990’s Batman cartoon is unflattering must be on another planet. Still, there’s no excusing the fact that one hallucination aside, Spike isn’t in these books; cover A wins hands down.
Betta George
Here’s where the problemos start for me. Betta George's story is supposed to link the other stories together, right? Despite this, I see no clear thematic link between what happened to him here and what happened to Kate, Connor, and Wes. There was no direct plot thread tying them together either, so why was this strategy used? The snippets we got here and last issue are so brief, it's hard to feel like a cohesive "Betta George" story is being told -- it reads to me more like we're getting a random framing sequence to fill pages, and stories like Kate’s here and Spike’s last issue desperately need the space to breathe.
Don't get me wrong, George is fun character -- I love the thought of a giant telepathic betta, and he was used very well in "Spike: Asylum" (though IMO he was just window dressing in "Shadow Puppets"). However, the storytelling in this sequence is simply unacceptable, especially considering this is IDW's flagship title.
Here’s what I mean: In the second panel from the top on page one, we can see that Douche Lackey (you know who I mean) is being beaten up by Spike at a carnival. Why does he suddenly appear to be...encased in a bubble? Made of cardboard? He's back to normal by the bottom panel with no explanation. I realize that continuity things like this are cut to save page space, and I don't need every detail of a sequence spelled out for me in the art as some readers seem to suggest, but I would like some basic hint as to what's going on here.
Then, there's the mysterious "help" bubble in the final panel of page one, which seems to have no relation to the George story, or the Wesley story that follows it. It's not in the same font or colouring as any other balloon in the issue. It could potentially be a lead in to the Kate sequence, but that doesn't appear until the halfway point. Who’s saying this? What gives?
The last page did nothing to change my distaste for this story. I have absolutely no idea why Geoge is asking "How did you --" in the top panel, or what power he had to kill/die for. As far as I could tell, Douche Lackey somehow got in front of George...which means his super power is, um, being able to outrun a big floaty fish? I assume this power will be a plot point later in the series, which will surely have readers who shrugged off this sequence in confusion scratching their heads later. By the bottom panel, George is covered in those web...things again, but how? Is that Douche Lackey's power? Did he do something to him offpanel?
To be fair to Lynch, he's not given himself very many pages to work with, but that doesn't forgive the frankly bizarre storytelling that rendered these sequences incomprehensible to me. Some blame also has to fall on artist Tim Kane. I don't mind his stylized interpretations of the vampire and the slayers -- in fact, I'd love to see how his minimalist angles would benefit someone like Illyria. Aside from the one-panel Spike bit, however, there are no familiar faces to be found. Douche Lackey is drawn a little generically, but at least he has the shaved head to set him apart in future issues. His George has improved, but he still looks too little like a betta and too much like a trout with really weird fins. The real problem, though, is the way he's staged the story, which for me rendered what should have been a quaint bit of filler into something frustrating.
I hate to be a snickerpuss (actually, it's a blast, but one of those cartoon forest animals in "Bambi" told me it was rude), so I should point out that two interesting things DID happen in this take. The first:George's dialogue and characterization is spot on -- even folks who haven't read "Asylum" or "Shadow Puppets" should by this point have the general idea of a sarcastic guy who happens to be a floaty telepathic fish. It's nice to see his continued admiration of Spike, too.
Then, the slayer thing, which I honestly found a twinge disappointing -- with the slayer issue being dealt with so splendidly on Buffy, it would have been nice this Angel series stand on its own. Clearly, though, Lynch is not interested in holding back from using all the favourites (issue 5, cover A much?), which is fine so long as characterization isn't sacrificed in the process. From here, this could turn into either a very cool shout out to continuity buffs, or a lame writer's crutch -- too early to tell. I'm curious as to how multiple slayers were obtained and trapped in a hotel basement without the obvious use of any shackles, but given the magic precedent in this universe, I'll give Lynch the benefit of the doubt. Still, I'm not convinced that there wasn't a better way to introduce this detail -- as is, it's pretty clear that issue 8 won't wrap up that plot thread, so why introduce it here?
Wesley
This is definitely my favourite First Night story, and I suspect it’s the reason the series was originally planned. The images of Wes floating up to cloud nine reminded me of the dream sequences in S5’s “Soul Purpose,” and although the eventual cheat was obvious, it was still effective. This tale served as a nice reminder that Wes is still the badass of S3-4 at heart, not a dorky whipping boy (or a vessel for the First Evil, a theory that I initially jumped on quicker than you can say “non-corporeal”). The characterization of Wes is much closer to what we’ve seen on the show than the butchered caricatures of Spike, Illyria, Connor, and Lorne we were “treated” to last month, both honouring the character and pushing his story forward.
However, I still have to question how necessary this story is. Up until this point, it has been unclear what Wesley’s role is in Hell. Now, it’s made explicit that his current situation is exactly as it appeared – he’s being forced to work for Wolfram and Hart, but is still rooting for Team Angel. Any betrayal, as hinted at in the tantalizing last panel, will result from him being duped by the Sr. Partners, not an action of his own doing. Dramatically, that is something of a disappointment, but it still leaves lots of interesting doors open.
However, the story is not without its problems. One is the creature impersonating Fred. Who exactly is talking here? Is it one of the Sr. Partners speaking directly to Wesley? Considering how little interest the Sr. Partners ever took in Angel directly, this would come as a bit of a shock. Although I’m sure Angel’s threat status has been upgraded to B-list nuisance post Not Fade Away, I still find it hard to believe they would let the Jasmine thing slide and then take the time to dress up to fool one of Angel’s “flunkies.” No, it seems the entity here is the long-forgotten, never-explained, better-forgotten Conduit from the White Room in S5, a plot-device-as-character that basically exists to do whatever the hell the writer wants to do with it, and bubble it’s talking to represents the voice of the partners. While the Conduit here seems to serve the role of temptress nicely, its characterization is liable to be so fluid that I can’t muster much interest in it as a recurring villain – I hope this is the last we see of it.
This is one case where casting a familiar face would have been entirely welcome – imagine the thrill of Wes hopping into Bed with Fred and revealing undead Lilah Morgan instead? Cool? Yes. Consistent with what we’ve seen before? Yes. Sexual tension? Yes, yes, and yes! Undoubtedly, the reason Lilah (or Eve, or another directly identifiable figure) wasn’t used in this capacity is that we’re supposed to be shocked by the sight of this evil being impersonating Fred. Problem is, we’re used to Illyria hanging out in her face, so the irony seems less diabolical than sorta mean spirited. Then there’s Nick Runge’s art…
Honestly, I get the complaints about Franco Urru but I really dig the guy – his cartooniness, his rough detail work, his palindromely surname, and his sometimes smush-faced but almost always recognizable likenesses. Here, I feel like Runge is trying a little hard to nail Amy and Alexis, with results that are hit-and-miss for me. In about half the panels, Fred looks just like her old self. At the point of her big, naked reveal, however, she could well be Lilah if not for the hair. Wesley’s “If this wasn’t a Lie” grimace is perfect, but Fred’s smile and his corresponding look of disappointment look like outtakes from their drunken escapade in “Life of the Party.” I’m sure Runge will find his groove, but I would still much prefer a relatively consistent character design panel-to-panel than a an attempt to directly recreate an actor’s face with various success depending on their position.
Likeness issues aside, there’s little to complain about in the art (perhaps a little overly detailed shading in the shadows, but nothing major). As I mentioned, the layouts of each panel are top notch throughout. Unlike the George story, it’s perfectly clear where our attention is supposed to be and how each panel relates to the next spatially. The unnerving way Wes’ uniform change is staged is a particular highlight for me. Also, anyone who has ever felt a pang of attraction for a dude should be cheering for the close up on Wesley’s ass. It totally redeems the bad Fred likeness in that panel. At last, some equal opportunity man-candy to assuage the (frankly, correct) feminists who cried foul at the gratuitous shots of Spike’s lady friends earlier in the series. Although, when did Fred get so busty and curvaceous? (that’s how Wes should’ve been able to tell her apart: evil boobs)
Despite Lynch’s great ear for dialogue and mostly-great if imperfect art, this story still feels very simple. From the twist onward, little was given aside from exposition, and while we’re invited to feel for Wesley, I didn’t find myself exactly reveling in his pain. I mean, the guy just died – surely there was a bit more tension that could’ve been wrung (note the w) out of that? This is a well told story, but not a particularly memorable or remarkable one, and certainly nothing to justify the horrid sixth issue. I’m intrigued with what the Partners have in store for Wesley, but I also feel like I wasted my time trying to look for subtle hints as to his motivation when it turned out to be pretty much what we all expected. Plot wise, everything here was expected. Thematically, this is well-tread territory. Translation: bored now.
KATE
Part II of our three-part Connor tale (I assume that Kate’s dealer is Gwen, which will continue into issue 8) was both a highlight and a letdown for me. First, the good stuff, which was pretty much summed up in the title. Kate Lockley was a fantastic character, and the role she’s been given here feels so right, it’s a wonder she wasn’t chosen over Gwen or Nina for a regular role in the cast. Her appearance was a genuine surprise (aside from her presence on the cover, and her name on the inside jacket), and as much as I adore Cordelia, I’m relieved that she wasn’t the mystery woman. I don’t care what anyone else has said – Stephen Mooney’s Kate looks fantastic, and the choice of attire was absolutely perfect for her. Of course, Kate is given very little to work with as she kicks some ass, runs, and goes back to kick some more ass, but it’s enough. She gets to prove she’s a badass and quickly fills us in on what she’s been up to, giving no more detail than absolutely necessary. If this sort of quick exposition could be achieved so neatly more often, there would be no need for a First Night series at all. The paraphrased Angel quote was a great way to sum up her character, and I genuinely hope we get to see more of her, if not here, then in some sort of spinoff?
On the other hand, there’s the kid on the receiving end of her speech. Connor doesn’t come across very well in this story. While he was always controversial on the show, this incarnation did absolutely nothing to endear himself to me in this issue. For a story billed as “how Connor became LA’s greatest champion,” he doesn’t get to do a lot. The three Dads thing was trying last month, and was downright annoying here. And the “a new voice to listen to” line felt forced – we get it, he’s a good kid now. In this case, good apparently means vanilla.
For a boy who spent most of last issue blabbing about what each of his fathers would do, he doesn’t seem to give a damn about Angel or his adoptive-non-father here. He was rushing towards W&H to save Angel, right? In that case, why does he lose all concern for his well-being now? Why isn’t he worried about what it means for Angel and his other Dad that a big ol’ demon army now knows that he’s Angel’s kid? Isn’t he concerned that the dad who “raised” him to be the model of mental health he is today might now have learned the truth, and could try to reject him? Or, say, the fact that both his powerless adoptive parents are suddenly stuck in hell without a protector? Apparently, that internal tension isn’t as interesting as seeing that yes, he’s STILL into older women.
In my comments for issue 6, I complained about Connor’s reaction to receiving his memories – it felt like a gigantic cheat that rather than him dealing with the fact that he willingly murdered an innocent girl (“Inside Out”), knowingly sacrificed dozens of followers to a false God (the Jasmine arc), and was so depressed that he nearly blew up a mall (“Home”), he went “eeew, I did Cordy!” along with the rest of us. That admittedly icky plotpoint is something no fan needed (or wanted) to be reminded of. More importantly, though, if we are to accept Connor 2.0 as the model of mental health, he should be a little more shaken up by the callousness he held toward human life, not just his inappropriate sexual shenanigans. In “Not Fade Away,” I bought his refusal to bond with Angel as a refusal to identify with that person. This is why their relationship was not intended to go any further than a little help with a resume now and then, but by the end of that episode, he had decided to put his personal demons away, and went to do the right thing and try to help Angel in the fight. Here, just a few hours later, he’s confronted with all those issues, and has absolutely nothing to say about them as if they never happened. Dis. A. Pointing.
I struggle with my feelings toward this story segment. On the one hand, there’s the great treatment of Kate, combined with solid story telling, snappy dialogue, and good artwork. On the other, we’ve reduced Connor’s supposed hero story to “boy goes to hell, boy almost gets hurt, boy gets saved.” Any bystander could have fulfilled this role, and this was a huge waste of a good chance to see what makes Conn 2.0 tick.
OVERALL
After the spectacular first issue, my interest in After the Fall has steadily declined. However, the First Night story is the first post S8 Buffyverse comics that I actively didn’t enjoy reading. To fit its page count, the Spike story left all the character bits on the cutting room floor, rendering it nothing more than an advertisement for Spike: After the Fall. The Lorne story’s mediocre rhyming couplets masked dull exposition that we could have figured out for ourselves. The Betta George story is filler hampered by terrible staging, and while the Kate story carved a great role for an old character, it utterly failed in its treatment of Connor. That leaves the Wesley story, an admirable but ultimately forgettable piece that still fails to give more than rudimentary insight into what Wesley is feeling right now. Yes, a few hints have been dropped about the tough times ahead, but wouldn’t it have been more fun exploring these plot points in real time than playing “let’s see what ___ did last week” for two and a half months? Angel: After the Fall is on such a tight issue count that it’s hard not to resent 44 pages of what has thus far been mostly trivial.
Tell me then, was this three issue side trip worth cutting page time from the main story? Have you had as many problems with First Night as I have? Is there something about the George story that I’m missing? Am I just being a snickerpuss?
Discuss!