Take a photo of a barcode or cover
mrjgyfly 's review for:
The Immortal Iron Fist, Volume 1: The Last Iron Fist Story
by Ed Brubaker, Matt Fraction
Read the full review at The Books in My Life!
Before I dawn the critical lenses, note that I do not believe all stories need to have a social edginess to them in order to be meaningful. Also note that I won’t be able to help myself in unfairly comparing this print series to its Netflix counterparts, which is peaches to plums. That being said, the fact that Jessica Jones featured a super-powered heroine rendered helpless in the wake of rape-induced PTSD and Luke Cage featured a black hero donning a bullet-ridden hoodie gave each series a politically-tinged edge, but not a focus. The fact that these “comic book” stories (Yes, I know they are TV Shows and not comic books! Nonetheless, they are stories about super-people punching their problems.) don’t beat their viewers over the head with politics the way classics like Watchmen (1985) or Batman: The Dark Knight Returns (1986) elevates their enjoyability. If I’ve learned anything in in 2016, it’s that I can’t ignore politics completely, as it’ll eventually walk right up and grab me by the pussy. I don’t, however, need it to be the focal point of the culture I inhabit.
Danny Rand doesn’t beat the audience over the head with politics because there is no political edge here. He’s a billionaire using his wealth to help fuel his war on crime. He attained his powers though loss of his parents and an Asiatic adventure. (Stop me if you’ve heard this before.) Additionally, despite the fact that he is one of a long-line of Iron Fists, he’s white, as is the only other living Iron Fist in this story. I know I’m not the first to raise an eyebrow over Rand’s skin color, but think about it. This 2009 series is not a reboot, but it is a jumping-on point. If you know that Marvel’s Civil War (2007) happened, then you’re ready to read this volume. Might this not be a good time to pull in a new iteration of Iron Fist, considering that the character is not a novel one in this mythos?
This is not heavy-handed stuff. This is a double bill of kung-fu zaniness and blaxploitation suave, and Brubaker and Fraction set the tone well without cranking the goofiness into absurdity. Yet a bit more social consciousness could go a long way. Consider Gojira (1954), the first Godzilla movie. After its debut, the entire franchise followed a path the American version of Gojira, re-titled Godzilla: King of the Monsters, set. The original was a stark nightmare reflecting the social consciousness of a populace that had recently faced nuclear devastation. It was enjoyable both as social commentary and as a film about a mutant T-Rex stomping on model buildings. The American version jammed in a white protagonist and stripped the film of its political edge. And while I adore the nearly 30 films that followed, they are undoubtedly pure cinematic junk food, and they have been until the most recent iteration, which is very Japanese and very political.
My point is that a balance of smashy-smashy and political savvy would perhaps have made for a more enjoyable viewing experience with Shin Godzilla (2016) and the same can be said for this iteration of Iron Fist. Seeing his brief team-up with Luke Cage, Misty Knight, and Colleen Wing reveals this absurdity. The story shifts its tone to blaxploitation, effectively white-washing (black-washing?) Colleen (who I later discovered to be Japanese only after a Wikipedia check) and leaving Rand to break the scene’s otherwise focused style.
Maybe none of this would matter if the story displayed some originality. It’s enjoyable the way trashy cinema is enjoyable. I like knowing that these distinct tones exist within a larger universe and can somehow link to other stories fairly seamlessly. That being said, there’s not much here to hook me through the rest of this series and it leaves me with a little less enthusiasm for the upcoming Netflix show.
And that’s the real problem here. After all, it’s now 2017, and soon nobody will be reading because they’ll have too much to binge-watch.
Before I dawn the critical lenses, note that I do not believe all stories need to have a social edginess to them in order to be meaningful. Also note that I won’t be able to help myself in unfairly comparing this print series to its Netflix counterparts, which is peaches to plums. That being said, the fact that Jessica Jones featured a super-powered heroine rendered helpless in the wake of rape-induced PTSD and Luke Cage featured a black hero donning a bullet-ridden hoodie gave each series a politically-tinged edge, but not a focus. The fact that these “comic book” stories (Yes, I know they are TV Shows and not comic books! Nonetheless, they are stories about super-people punching their problems.) don’t beat their viewers over the head with politics the way classics like Watchmen (1985) or Batman: The Dark Knight Returns (1986) elevates their enjoyability. If I’ve learned anything in in 2016, it’s that I can’t ignore politics completely, as it’ll eventually walk right up and grab me by the pussy. I don’t, however, need it to be the focal point of the culture I inhabit.
Danny Rand doesn’t beat the audience over the head with politics because there is no political edge here. He’s a billionaire using his wealth to help fuel his war on crime. He attained his powers though loss of his parents and an Asiatic adventure. (Stop me if you’ve heard this before.) Additionally, despite the fact that he is one of a long-line of Iron Fists, he’s white, as is the only other living Iron Fist in this story. I know I’m not the first to raise an eyebrow over Rand’s skin color, but think about it. This 2009 series is not a reboot, but it is a jumping-on point. If you know that Marvel’s Civil War (2007) happened, then you’re ready to read this volume. Might this not be a good time to pull in a new iteration of Iron Fist, considering that the character is not a novel one in this mythos?
This is not heavy-handed stuff. This is a double bill of kung-fu zaniness and blaxploitation suave, and Brubaker and Fraction set the tone well without cranking the goofiness into absurdity. Yet a bit more social consciousness could go a long way. Consider Gojira (1954), the first Godzilla movie. After its debut, the entire franchise followed a path the American version of Gojira, re-titled Godzilla: King of the Monsters, set. The original was a stark nightmare reflecting the social consciousness of a populace that had recently faced nuclear devastation. It was enjoyable both as social commentary and as a film about a mutant T-Rex stomping on model buildings. The American version jammed in a white protagonist and stripped the film of its political edge. And while I adore the nearly 30 films that followed, they are undoubtedly pure cinematic junk food, and they have been until the most recent iteration, which is very Japanese and very political.
My point is that a balance of smashy-smashy and political savvy would perhaps have made for a more enjoyable viewing experience with Shin Godzilla (2016) and the same can be said for this iteration of Iron Fist. Seeing his brief team-up with Luke Cage, Misty Knight, and Colleen Wing reveals this absurdity. The story shifts its tone to blaxploitation, effectively white-washing (black-washing?) Colleen (who I later discovered to be Japanese only after a Wikipedia check) and leaving Rand to break the scene’s otherwise focused style.
Maybe none of this would matter if the story displayed some originality. It’s enjoyable the way trashy cinema is enjoyable. I like knowing that these distinct tones exist within a larger universe and can somehow link to other stories fairly seamlessly. That being said, there’s not much here to hook me through the rest of this series and it leaves me with a little less enthusiasm for the upcoming Netflix show.
And that’s the real problem here. After all, it’s now 2017, and soon nobody will be reading because they’ll have too much to binge-watch.