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A review by tobin_elliott
Deathlok: Rage Against the Machine by Terry Kavanagh, Rick Leonardi, José Ladrönn, Joe Casey, Jim Cheung, Alan Davis, Andrew Robinson, Leonardo Manco
sad
fast-paced
0.25
See? This is what happens when you get old. You forget that you read stuff. Apparently, before I quit GR the last time, I read this and reviewed it.
And, in my humble opinion, I was bang on. Here's my review from September of 2021:
Come on Goodreads, there's gotta be a way to rate something with negative stars. Stars that the damn reading material owes me. (At least I can rate it a quarter star on Storygraph).
Because this steaming pile of pages owes me some hours of my life back.
I don't know who Joe Casey is, but hopefully he's found more meaningful work in an all-night variety store, because he can't plot a story worth a shit. And this new take on Deathlok? Yes, he clearly states it's a complete departure from the classic Deathlok, but this thing ain't even worthy of being a C-level supporting character, much less the headliner of it's own book.
We're supposed to believe that Jack Truman, S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent 18, is the best Manhunter they've got. Yet nowhere in the Marvel universe has he ever shown up prior to this, and when he does, he is a drooling maniac that just wants a good fight, and pretty much levels Hell's Kitchen to fight Cable, because, for whatever reason, he seems to think Cable's the ultimate match for him. He completely goes rogue, just like every single other S.H.I.E.L.D. agent under Joe Casey's keyboard. Seriously, does ANYone follow orders in S.H.I.E.L.D.?
Even better, this entire four-issue fight is drawn by some cheap-ass bargain-basement Kirby wannabe called Ladronn. I have two words for Ladronn's art. It sucks.
And then our hero Jack Truman turns into some cheap-ass, bargain-basement version of Deathlok, and suddenly becomes a lot less of a drooling maniac. Visits a sister for an issue, then she's forgotten. Fights a fucking clown.
A. Clown.
At least Ladronn was jettisoned, but then we got Leonardo Manco, who is a knock-off Jim Steranko/Paul Gulacy wannabe, who draws virtually every single male with the same face, and fills each panel with so much line work that it's impossible to determine precisely what is happening.
The Nineties were a dark goddamn time for Marvel.
I spent five entire dollars on this piece of crap, and that's at least ten bucks too much. Steer clear.
And, in my humble opinion, I was bang on. Here's my review from September of 2021:
Come on Goodreads, there's gotta be a way to rate something with negative stars. Stars that the damn reading material owes me. (At least I can rate it a quarter star on Storygraph).
Because this steaming pile of pages owes me some hours of my life back.
I don't know who Joe Casey is, but hopefully he's found more meaningful work in an all-night variety store, because he can't plot a story worth a shit. And this new take on Deathlok? Yes, he clearly states it's a complete departure from the classic Deathlok, but this thing ain't even worthy of being a C-level supporting character, much less the headliner of it's own book.
We're supposed to believe that Jack Truman, S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent 18, is the best Manhunter they've got. Yet nowhere in the Marvel universe has he ever shown up prior to this, and when he does, he is a drooling maniac that just wants a good fight, and pretty much levels Hell's Kitchen to fight Cable, because, for whatever reason, he seems to think Cable's the ultimate match for him. He completely goes rogue, just like every single other S.H.I.E.L.D. agent under Joe Casey's keyboard. Seriously, does ANYone follow orders in S.H.I.E.L.D.?
Even better, this entire four-issue fight is drawn by some cheap-ass bargain-basement Kirby wannabe called Ladronn. I have two words for Ladronn's art. It sucks.
And then our hero Jack Truman turns into some cheap-ass, bargain-basement version of Deathlok, and suddenly becomes a lot less of a drooling maniac. Visits a sister for an issue, then she's forgotten. Fights a fucking clown.
A. Clown.
At least Ladronn was jettisoned, but then we got Leonardo Manco, who is a knock-off Jim Steranko/Paul Gulacy wannabe, who draws virtually every single male with the same face, and fills each panel with so much line work that it's impossible to determine precisely what is happening.
The Nineties were a dark goddamn time for Marvel.
I spent five entire dollars on this piece of crap, and that's at least ten bucks too much. Steer clear.