Scan barcode
A review by stephen_arvidson
Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles Adventures Volume 3 by Steve LaVigne, Dean Clarrain
4.0
Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles Adventures, Volume 3, collecting Issues #9-12 of the all-ages Archie series, prefigures another seismic shift from its cartoon counterpart; one in which the series would undertake long-term story arcs in lieu of episodic closure and circular dramaturgy. Volume 2 had undoubtedly hit a snag with its string of one-shot planches and self-contained characters—and not to mention the overly simplistic and shallow storytelling that so often gave way to gaps in narrative logic—but this latest collection from IDW illustrates the efforts by Dean Clarrain and fellow writers to take the series in a decidedly deeper and more serious direction.
The artwork alternates between Jim Lawson’s quirky, stylized technique in Issues #9 & #11 to Ken Mitchroney’s charming and jovial approach in Issues #10 & #12. These two artists couldn’t be more different, and it’s unmistakably clear as one reads these stories back-to-back. Each of Mitchroney’s panels looks amazingly like individual cells from a big-budget animated feature, and younger readers would most certainly favor his softer artwork over Lawson’s. On the other hand, Jim Lawson’s work, which frequently oscillates from detailed to sparse with occasional ebbs in quality, better lends itself to the series' increasingly mature stories. Moreover, the man deserves credit for his consistently badass depictions of the Shredder.
The first of the four collected tales, “Codename: Chameleon”, continues the mutant-of-the-month stories that comprised Volume 2. Here, a well-dressed double agent with a characteristic lazy eye has stolen classified weapons plans from the U.N. The dastardly Shredder covets these plans for himself and, after dispatching Rocksteady and Bebop to capture the dapper mercenary, transforms the spy into a man-sized Chameleon. Using his newfound camouflage abilities the Chameleon escapes, but his harrowing ordeal compels him to destroy the weapons plans for the betterment of mankind. The story is very cut-and-dry and makes no attempt to conceal that fact. The Chameleon character is grossly undeveloped, thereby making his final altruistic act seem baseless and confusing.
“Going Down?” serves as environmentalist fodder as we see Rocksteady and Bebop dumping toxic waste into the sewers, a thoughtless act that has unintended genetic consequences for a large planarian worm swimming amidst the tepid waters. Weeks later, acting on Splinter’s counsel, the Turtles decide to take an active stance against Krang. Whilst in search of the Shredder’s hideout, the Turtles are accosted by an oversized planarian Wyrm and a mutated cockroach-man (formerly a pest exterminator who was unwittingly exposed to the Shredder’s poorly stored mutagen). With its overly contrived plot-points and unconvincing monsters, this story reeks of wasted potential. However, it redeems itself for its rat-teeming segue into the subsequent issue, and the further establishing of Krang as a legitimate warlord as opposed to Shredder’s bickering cohort, and some genuine brotherly interaction between the Turtles—specifically, when a smug Raphael basks in Splinter’s approval of his (Raph) keeping the black wrestling outfit for its strategic value, much to Leonardo’s obvious jealousy. One can’t help but appreciate those little touches.
In “White Light”, the writers thankfully deviate from the hokey one-offs and intellectually-offensive dialogue. Trapped beneath a pile of rubble, Bebop and Rocksteady notice a blinding light before they're spirited away by four Roswell-type aliens. As the story proper ensues, a plague of rats herds the Turtles to the kingdom of the enigmatic Ha’ntaan, better known as the Rat King. The murky monarch points them in the Shredder's direction, where the quartet encounters a formidable Super Foot Soldier. The Turtles are then apprehended by the Sons of Silence and held in suspended animation. As Shredder & Co. gloat over their victory, it proves short-lived when another player enters the fray. My favorite of the four stories, “White Light” really showcases the series’ mythology and sets the stage for the so-called “Final Conflict.” While the use of the Rat King may seem gratuitous to some readers, I applaud the writers’ decision to have Leonardo engage Ha'ntaan in a civil dialogue that ends in a peaceful yet suspicious resolution as opposed to another epic throw-down. Nice to know that Splinter's taken the time to educate his reptilian pupils about the fine art of diplomacy! Jim Lawson’s unique style has begun to grow on me, particularly with his wonderfully creepy depiction of the Rat King, whose appearance in the series is fleeting but leaves a lasting impression.
In “The Lost World”, Volume 3’s concluding issue, the tubular terrapins are rescued by endearing warlord Cherubae (the true form of bayou witch Mary Bones) and bequeathed a campfire account of Krang’s berserker assaults on other planets and of the Turnstone’s true power. But when Cherubae is taken hostage and the Turnstone lost on a devastated planet, the Turtles find themselves in a race against the Shredder to recover the misplaced orb and restore order to the cosmos. But they’ll need help. The big-stakes endgame coupled with a tense cliffhanger, the surprising return of many familiar faces, the merging of various elements from earlier issues into a cohesive story—and let’s not forget Rocksteady’s poetic dream sequence that lends greater depth to his character—collectively denotes the series’ vigorous attempts at more sophisticated storytelling.
The artwork alternates between Jim Lawson’s quirky, stylized technique in Issues #9 & #11 to Ken Mitchroney’s charming and jovial approach in Issues #10 & #12. These two artists couldn’t be more different, and it’s unmistakably clear as one reads these stories back-to-back. Each of Mitchroney’s panels looks amazingly like individual cells from a big-budget animated feature, and younger readers would most certainly favor his softer artwork over Lawson’s. On the other hand, Jim Lawson’s work, which frequently oscillates from detailed to sparse with occasional ebbs in quality, better lends itself to the series' increasingly mature stories. Moreover, the man deserves credit for his consistently badass depictions of the Shredder.
The first of the four collected tales, “Codename: Chameleon”, continues the mutant-of-the-month stories that comprised Volume 2. Here, a well-dressed double agent with a characteristic lazy eye has stolen classified weapons plans from the U.N. The dastardly Shredder covets these plans for himself and, after dispatching Rocksteady and Bebop to capture the dapper mercenary, transforms the spy into a man-sized Chameleon. Using his newfound camouflage abilities the Chameleon escapes, but his harrowing ordeal compels him to destroy the weapons plans for the betterment of mankind. The story is very cut-and-dry and makes no attempt to conceal that fact. The Chameleon character is grossly undeveloped, thereby making his final altruistic act seem baseless and confusing.
“Going Down?” serves as environmentalist fodder as we see Rocksteady and Bebop dumping toxic waste into the sewers, a thoughtless act that has unintended genetic consequences for a large planarian worm swimming amidst the tepid waters. Weeks later, acting on Splinter’s counsel, the Turtles decide to take an active stance against Krang. Whilst in search of the Shredder’s hideout, the Turtles are accosted by an oversized planarian Wyrm and a mutated cockroach-man (formerly a pest exterminator who was unwittingly exposed to the Shredder’s poorly stored mutagen). With its overly contrived plot-points and unconvincing monsters, this story reeks of wasted potential. However, it redeems itself for its rat-teeming segue into the subsequent issue, and the further establishing of Krang as a legitimate warlord as opposed to Shredder’s bickering cohort, and some genuine brotherly interaction between the Turtles—specifically, when a smug Raphael basks in Splinter’s approval of his (Raph) keeping the black wrestling outfit for its strategic value, much to Leonardo’s obvious jealousy. One can’t help but appreciate those little touches.
In “White Light”, the writers thankfully deviate from the hokey one-offs and intellectually-offensive dialogue. Trapped beneath a pile of rubble, Bebop and Rocksteady notice a blinding light before they're spirited away by four Roswell-type aliens. As the story proper ensues, a plague of rats herds the Turtles to the kingdom of the enigmatic Ha’ntaan, better known as the Rat King. The murky monarch points them in the Shredder's direction, where the quartet encounters a formidable Super Foot Soldier. The Turtles are then apprehended by the Sons of Silence and held in suspended animation. As Shredder & Co. gloat over their victory, it proves short-lived when another player enters the fray. My favorite of the four stories, “White Light” really showcases the series’ mythology and sets the stage for the so-called “Final Conflict.” While the use of the Rat King may seem gratuitous to some readers, I applaud the writers’ decision to have Leonardo engage Ha'ntaan in a civil dialogue that ends in a peaceful yet suspicious resolution as opposed to another epic throw-down. Nice to know that Splinter's taken the time to educate his reptilian pupils about the fine art of diplomacy! Jim Lawson’s unique style has begun to grow on me, particularly with his wonderfully creepy depiction of the Rat King, whose appearance in the series is fleeting but leaves a lasting impression.
In “The Lost World”, Volume 3’s concluding issue, the tubular terrapins are rescued by endearing warlord Cherubae (the true form of bayou witch Mary Bones) and bequeathed a campfire account of Krang’s berserker assaults on other planets and of the Turnstone’s true power. But when Cherubae is taken hostage and the Turnstone lost on a devastated planet, the Turtles find themselves in a race against the Shredder to recover the misplaced orb and restore order to the cosmos. But they’ll need help. The big-stakes endgame coupled with a tense cliffhanger, the surprising return of many familiar faces, the merging of various elements from earlier issues into a cohesive story—and let’s not forget Rocksteady’s poetic dream sequence that lends greater depth to his character—collectively denotes the series’ vigorous attempts at more sophisticated storytelling.