Because if you thought Johns’ obsession with replicating that film began and ended with the post-Infinite Crisis redesign of Jor-El, or that it was only in the way Gary Frank draws Christopher Reeve and Margot Kidder into their roles that the current Superman comics would be reminiscent of Richard Donner’s masterpiece, then think again. Pretty much the only thing missing from the scene in which Clark rescues Lois after a fall from a skyscraper (and yes, he catches a helicopter as well), for example, is the fact that Johns doesn’t use the “You’ve got me? Who’s got you?” line. Note for note, though, it’s clear that of all previous versions of this tale, the movie is by far the biggest influence.

And yet… I really don’t mind that. I probably would mind if I didn’t like the film, but… it’s pretty much my favourite telling of one of my favourite stories. So to see it translated to the comic page, with a few contemporary tweaks and wider DC continuity bits and bobs brought in? I kind of like that. I kind of like it a lot. No, the problem I have with Johns doing this story now, and the way he’s done it, comes from the way in which it relates to the previous issue of this miniseries. In that it’s completely undermined by it. I already expressed my reservations when reviewing issue #2, so I don’t want to harp on about it too much, but I honestly feel that this story is hugely compromised by the reintroduction of Superboy into the mythos. Not only does it need to rely on being Superman’s first public appearance in order to have the same effect, but Johns specifically throws in a couple of moments that suggest it to be so (Clark remarking on how the costume will look, and his father talking about “letting the proverbial cat out of the bag”). But if he’d spent the previous decade flying around Smallville as Superboy… well, wouldn’t someone have noticed?

Still, if you want to pretend that #2 doesn’t exist, then this is cracking. Even when it’s nicking elements off Birthright, it gets away with it; indeed, as much as I love Birthright, this does certain moments better – the full-page splash of Clark catching Lois in the air is wonderfully iconic (although it’s also worth noting that as right as Gary Frank gets that moment, the “opening shirt in the alley to reveal the S” page is disappointingly lacking in a sense of motion and urgency). It hence comes off as a pretty solid distillation of various generations’ interpretations of the story – there are hints of Man of Steel in the mix, too, while Johns gives his own nod to present, post-marriage continuity by throwing the curve ball of Lois actually warming to Clark (as Clark, not Superman) fairly early on. I do rather wish it was being done by a writer with a bit more flair and wit than Johns – his dialogue rarely strays beyond functional, and there’s barely anything you’d call a successful joke here – but it’s hard to deny that as far as story beats go, this pretty much hits every mark. If it continues in this vein, Secret Origin might yet turn out to be the quintessential retelling we’ve been hoping for.

And yet the thing is, Conner Kent – this version, at least – isn’t really the most exhilarating of lead characters, barely straying out of the realm of “good-natured but slightly simple lunk”. What makes his stories – and this book – work, however, are those around him – with the possible exception of the even more terminally-dull Wonder Girl, he’s got a decent supporting cast. This issue, for example, centres around reintroducing Tim Drake to his life, and is instantly more readable than any issue of Red Robin so far – even managing to go so far as to shed a slightly withering gaze on the darkness of that book, saying “It’s a bit silly, isn’t it?” (although it’s mildly ironic for Johns to accuse anyone else of making their books too dark, of course) And then you’ve got a scene with Krypto, who’s been getting a lot of page time recently, about which it’s really hard to complain when he’s this amusing. And there’s Lex Luthor as a weird sort of background antagonist, lurking in his own subplot without yet actually encountering the main story.

Plus, of course, Johns has been carefully setting up a Smallville-based support cast for Conner to call his own – which is why it’s a shame that the creative team are upping sticks and moving to Flash so abruptly. It felt like some decent groundwork was being laid here for a good-quality, supporting-character-led “teen” superhero book (in the mould of… well, Blue Beetle again, to be honest), and it’s been among the most likeable and engaging stuff that Johns has turned in for a while. Plenty of folk are excited about Paul Levitz making the series his return to writing duties, but I do wonder how much – if any – of this setup he’s going to keep, and while it barely had a chance to establish itself, it’d be a shame to see the work go to waste.

As it’ll also be a shame to lose Francis Manapul – although on this evidence his art might be enough to get me to follow him to Flash. It’s a little soft at times for what is essentially still a superhero book, but it’s lovely work – helped by a stunning and subtle colouring job. It all makes for a genuinely enjoyable read – with the aforementioned Krypto scene, filled with animal character in that non-anthropomorphic way that precious few artists manage to get, a particular highlight. Even if it feels at times like it’s consciously reaching to do so, it’s just nice to read a superhero comic that makes you go “Awww” a bit from time to time. It may be unclear what the future holds for Adventure Comics, but this was shaping up to be something very promising.

Alright, so this doesn’t feel like a wholly pointless enterprise. While 2o-odd years may not be the usual natural lifespan of a canonical origin story, it’s not unfair to state that Man of Steel was very rooted in a particular time, and has outdated elements that could do with a tweaking. Birthright, meanwhile, was thrust rather unwillingly into the role – it was originally intended, and should have remained, as an “Ultimate”-style retelling, more akin to a movie reboot. This was something it did wonderfully, but reconciling it with “proper” DC continuity was fraught with problems.

So I can see the need to do a nice, big, ground-sweeping retelling – sort out a few of the rejigged post-Infinite Crisis elements that have been hinted at, play all the classic story beats in a fresh way, and just generally re-establish the Man of Steel in people’s minds. The problem is, if you’re going to do that, you really need to bring something new to the table – and as competently put together a comic as Secret Origin is, all it’s got in its pocket are old family heirlooms.

That it should so heavily mine the past should, of course, come as no surprise when you consider that it’s a Geoff Johns book – but I would have at least expected a few more original ideas than we come across here (the only one I can really make out is the idea that Clark wears specially-madeglasses as a kid to block his initially-uncontrollable heat vision – and even then, while it may be new to the Superman mythos, it’s not exactly unfamiliar to anyone who’s ever picked up an X-Men comic). Essentially, this is a cherry-picking of assorted elements – at various times you can see ideas from Birthright, Man of Steel, Smallville, the Donner movies, and even the Silver Age in there – lobbed together to give a version of Superman’s history that, rather than being instantly iconic, is simply “the version that Geoff Johns wants”.

Nowhere is this more evident than in the decision to rejig Clark’s adolescence yet again, and revert back to the status quo of his having been Superboy before being Superman. To which my only reaction is “nnnnnNNNNGGGG”, frankly. Superboy has always been the most problematic aspect of the “classic” Superman mythos – it diminishes the power of the icon, and of the character’s development as a man, to have had him running around as a famous superhero in an identical costume throughout his teens. John Byrne did quite a few things right in 1986, but none moreso than ditching that nonsense entirely. But Johns is a fan of the classic-style Legion of Super-Heroes, and Johns wants to tell classic-style Legion stories with a Clark Kent Superboy as a member – so this is what we’re lumbered with. And it leads to the frankly baffling sight of Jonathan and Martha suddenly deciding to send their teenage son out to be a superhero, complete with costume, with barely a thought as to the reasoning behind doing so.

Furthermore, it doesn’t do a hugely convincing job of being the first issue of an origin. Simply put, opening with Clark in high school makes it feel like we’ve missed a chapter. This isn’t Spider-Man, where the discovery of the powers is the defining moment – the Krypton story should always be the opening act of any telling of this story. It’s not good enough simply to introduce Jor-El for the first time as a hologram, and tell the tragic tale of the doomed scientist as a flashback. Alright, we all know how it goes – but we know how all of this goes (does anyone seriously think Clark’s going to move to Gotham in a couple of issues’ time?), it doesn’t mean it can’t be retold in an entertaining way.

There are good points, mind (and it must be said that even the weaker aspects of the story Johns chooses to tell don’t affect the quality of the telling – this isn’t a bad comic by any objective criteria). Reasserting Lana’s role in Clark’s history post-Smallville works, and there are nice moments here and there – particularly in setting his real and adoptive parents side-by-side in quite a touching way. And of course, Gary Frank’s art is excellent (although, much as I’m looking forward to seeing him draw the adult Clark as Christopher Reeve, essentially superimposing the late actor’s features onto a teenage boy just comes out looking wrong).

But it’s slow, dwelling for too long on aspects of the character’s life that simply aren’t as interesting as everything that we know is due to come later. As such, it comes off less as a defining, page-one origin story – and more as a wistful flashback through the character’s childhood. And when you’re following in the footsteps of two truly great versions of this tale (three, if you add Donner’s movie to Byrne and Waid’s comics), that just won’t cut it. I’ll continue to give this a chance (there remains the potential for things to get much more exciting – and, crucially, iconic – when we get to Metropolis), but for something I was so excited about seeing, it’s something of a letdown.

And yet it’s not bad at all. Conner Kent’s always been something of a “nothing” character – at least, since he ditched the amusingly bad “teen speak” and sunglasses look and became someone with very few distinguishing characteristics – but Johns, as he did in his Teen Titans run, chooses to focus on the one angle that makes him in any way interesting: the fact that he is, essentially, a cross between Superman and Lex Luthor. It means that we get a fairly reflective story that sees Conner comparing his own life with the young life of Clark, before a closing-page twist that throws everything prior to it into a new perspective. There’s foundations laid for the introduction of a new, Smallville-based supporting cast – and I have to say, the idea of having Superboy stories set there, with an entirely original set of support characters (rather than simply having his life revolve around the Titans) is an idea I can get behind. Although I do wish he’d get round to changing that costume – or, you know, actually having one.

It’s actually the details of Clark’s earlier life, though, that make for the biggest problem with the story – we’re told, almost without warning, that it’s now “official” continuity once more that Clark was once Superboy, and joined the Legion of Super-Heroes as a teenager. Now, I know that this is Johns laying groundwork for what will be fully explained in the upcoming Superman : Secret Origin – but I don’t like having retcons foisted upon me until said origin has actually been told properly. I, and many other comics readers, have grown up with the notion that Superman’s identity only comes about in adult life (with his powers manifesting as a teenager), and some three years on from the establishment of “New Earth”, such major changes can’t be snuck in under the radar simply because Johns feels like it – they have to be set up properly.

Still, though, this is a nice little story, aided by some lovely artwork from Francis Manapul. Meanwhile, the Legion backup, while appropriate given the title of the comic, feels a little superfluous – first, we get a two-page introduction to the current version of the team (and it’s hard not to roll one’s eyes and say “Yeah, okay, whatever” when confronted with a two page spread of yet another set of slightly redesigned and tweaked Legionnaires), before a brief and largely confusing encounter with the Thom Kallor version of Starman. The bowling alley scene is actually pretty amusing (”Touchdown!”) but I can’t help but feel that, essentially, I’m being made to laugh at something (schizophrenia) that I shouldn’t be – and that’s why this interpretation of the character has always felt slightly off to me. But DC’s current slate of backup strips are being used in such a way that while the strong ones (Metal Men, Blue Beetle) can have as much value as the lead features, they can get away with feeling inessential if the lead is strong. And Adventure Comics doesn’t set the world on fire, but it’s pleasant enough, and promises to have a sense of gentle fun at odds with much of the current DCU output. So, we’ll see.

Incidentally, it’s not as if first-issue repetitive scenes with various characters handwringing about things that have happened in the last year or so is the only Johns trope employed here – the defining characteristic of the book, as with just about every other Johns-related event, and the “Prelude” issue that I capsule-reviewed last week, is that it’s quite deliberately unpleasant while still trying to remain within the boundaries of what you can get away with in a mainstream superhero book. Alright, so it’s not Ultimatum, but still – this is essentially a superhero zombie story, so ickiness abounds almost from the word go. The body count (or, at least, the “characters being killed so they can immediately come back as Black Lanterns” count) is kicked off in earnest, although I question the wisdom of deciding to kill two particular characters as the first marker of intent when they’ve already suffered such high-profile recent confusion over whether they died in the last big event.

Still, the issue builds a decent sense of ominous foreboding – the wider sequence of the Black Lantern rings streaming across the universe seeking out their new owners is played in nicely cinematic fashion, weaving in and out of smaller-scale scenes of impending darkness like the attack of rogue Guardian Scar, or the appearance of none other than Black Lantern J’onn J’onnz. I think I’ve said before that I generally approve of building a story around the very idea of “comic book death”, so there’s also a strong resonance in one of the better ideas Johns employs here, of DC’s world having a specific day on which people remember fallen superheroes (and rogues). On the flipside, mind, I question whether having a supervillain morgue in JLA headquarters is really an idea that anyone can swallow the entire League as having been morally okay with (if anything, it simply feels like a massive bit of plot telegraphing for when they inevitably pop out and attack en masse).

Visually it’s all as competent as you’d expect, Reis is always solid and reliable rather than particularly spectacular. There’s some memorable imagery, particularly the double-page spread of former Green Lanterns rising as one, but I just wonder how long he can sustain the grislier tone – he’s clearly far more at home drawing the living heroes than the dead ones – and whether Doug Mahnke, who turned in some genuinely unsettling work in the Black Hand Prelude, might have been a better choice to carry this. Still, it’s a decent start – I’m not sure yet if it’s going to be anything like the epoch-making event that the really quite ludicrously long build-up would suggest, nor indeed if it’s worthy of finally putting a story to Alan Moore’s vague decades-old notions of an “end of it all” event for the Corps; but for the moment, it’s at least refreshing to see a big company-wide event that’s honest about its obsession with needless death.

If I’m honest, I’m still struggling to see what the point of it all is. I have no small measure of affection for some of the classic Barry stories, and his death remains one of the greatest in comics history. But he’s very much of his time, a fact that Johns even alludes to (intentionally or otherwise) when discussing his particularly simplistic moral stance. He’s iconically representative of a certain era – that was kind of the symbolic point of killing him off in the original Crisis – so how do you make him relevant to this one when he hasn’t even been around to experience the world changing in twenty years?

Still, such concerns are probably for the longer view, and needn’t necessarily be reflected in what this is like as a comic and an introductory issue. And it’s… well, it’s as you’d expect from a Geoff Johns tentpole book. It’s entirely, thoroughly and inextricably rooted in “DCness”, and hugely reliant on prior knowledge of the identities of just about everyone that shows up. Make no mistake – if you’re wondering what the Flash is all about and you’re looking to start following his adventures, this ain’t the place for you. There isn’t even an explanation for why Bart is suddenly (a) alive and (b) a teenager again for those of us who haven’t read Final Crisis : Legion of 3 Worlds (I had to Wiki it just to find out that that was where it had happened).

And yet despite its impenetrability for the casual reader, from a technical point of view, it’s a pretty well-made comic. Despite approaching things from a different starting point to Hal Jordan’s return – Barry’s already alive when the book opens, for one thing – there are parallels in the way the layers of mystery are stacked up, with the hero’s apparently joyous return possibly not all that it seems, and there’s an intriguing twist to that effect in the closing pages. And if there’s one thing Johns is good at, it’s hopping around a universe he knows like the back of his hand and instantly slipping comfortably into assorted characters’ voices and setups – the page or so spent with the Titans instantly feels more like the “proper” versions of the characters than Judd Winick could manage in three or four lifetimes. That said, from a character point of view, he struggles to really make us care about the straight-laced and somewhat boring Barry – let’s hope that can be rectified, as the character’s past deserves it.

Visually it’s excellent, of course – when van Sciver does one of these big events, he usually brings his top form to the table, and this is an appropriately pacey and powerful-looking book, with strong use of vibrant colour. He gets Barry’s out-of-costume look spot on and instantly recognisable, and there’s a terrific panel of Wally reprimanding his kids that suggests he knows how to nail the sense of speed a Flash book requires.

The reader unfriendliness hampers the book somewhat, though, and there are elements even within its own framework that are frustratingly unexplained (just what’s going on with Barry – not the Flash, but Barry – suddenly having reappeared in everyone’s lives? What’s the “explanation”?) But it’s a solid, well-put-together slice of “event” comics, and even if it doesn’t answer the question of just what Barry’s eventual role will in the DCU be (given that Wally West, Jay Garrick and now Bart Allen are all still active), it does enough to suggest that he could have one.

In this case, I’d have assumed before reading it that it was going to be the former – when in fact, it’s more about the latter. Nothing happens that you’d miss if you just went on to the next issues of Superman and Action Comics, it’s more about establishing the tone (and certain character beats) of the story to come. As it happens, it’s not a bad read. It’s fairly padded out, which only strengthens the argument that it should have been kept to the main titles – a number of scenes have no real reason to drag on the way they do, and thus feel suspiciously like page-filler (the dialogue-free opening of Jonathan Kent’s funeral also feels like it’s copping out of working on bringing out genuine emotion, instead falling back on the time-honoured device of silence).

The sequence that works best, however, is the middle section of the issue – Clark’s conversation with Zor-El and Alura in Kandor itself. It’s the mixture of Clark’s joy at having fellow Kryptonians around, and the increasingly ominous tone as we realise that their presence really isn’t going to turn out to be a good thing for Earth – aptly demonstrated by one Kandorian’s killing of a blue whale.

(Incidentally, while I previously complained about the apparent lack of relevance in killing off Jonathan, I’m starting to see the point of it as this story kicks into gear – killing him has put his very existence, and more notably his influence on Clark, into the spotlight, and we’re presumably going to see the difference between an all-powerful Kryptonian that was raised by the Kents, and ones that weren’t. Let’s hope that we get a more convincing range of Kryptonian characters than a simple one-note “non-understanding alien” take across the board, though.)

The other moment that leaps out comes right at the issue’s close, when the identity of the previously-unnamed “General” is revealed. I have to say that it says a lot about this character’s prior lack of relevance that he can have appeared on-panel unrecognised by simple virtue of not naming him (the reader could be forgiven, in fact, for wondering if Thunderbolt Ross hadn’t crossed universes) – and even the earlier conversation between the Lane sisters didn’t have me twig, although it was probably supposed to. What really strikes me about the closing scene, though, is the way Luthor is used. It would seem that, after a hazy few years where his status has never quite been clear, the final shackles of the Byrne-era “corporate criminal” have been cast off, and he really is back to being an habitually-jailed scientific genius. Not before time, to be honest – Morrison’s All-Star version (clearly an influence here, down to the orange prison suit) showed that it’s an interpretation that can still work, and indeed arguably works better than any other.

It’s a good-looking comic, too, by virtue of the fact that the Superman stable currently has by far its strongest set of artists since the days when Jurgens, Grummett, Bogdanove and Guice were the four main pencillers. It’s a shame, though, that while Pete Woods and Renato Guedes offer no small measure of consistency in their styles, it’s not matched by Gary Frank – whose work is excellent, but stands out as markedly different from the other two, and so gives the funeral sequence an even stronger impression of being something that should have been in the pages of Action, but simply didn’t fit.

Against my expectations, this really isn’t an essential chapter in the ongoing story, and so – especially at the price – I’d hesitate to recommend it unreservedly to anyone looking to get onboard with the new story. But for the current Superman reader there’s a good amount of colour established, and it does the job in a tidy and professional way.

So, yes, as we’d all guessed from the “hints” dropped in previous issues (let’s face it, subtlety has never been Geoff Johns’ strong point) Jonathan Kent bites it in the closing pages of the story. But while it’s been on the cards for months – all those lingering camera shots, and indeed the simple fact that the Kents were spotlighted in a story that apparently had nothing to do with them – I’m still struggling to figure out exactly what the point is.

See, in the previous versions of the Superman story in which Jonathan has died – that’s the first movie, Smallville and All Star; I’m not counting pre-Crisis continuity, because both parents died almost off-camera originally – it’s been a defining moment in a young Clark’s life. It’s the point at which he realises that there are some things that he is simply powerless to prevent, and some people he will never be able to save. I really don’t see, though, any reason for him to go through that lesson as an adult. What does it add to the character, with everything he’s already experienced? Worse, this is the first time we’ve seen Clark’s father die as a direct result of his being there. A heart attack seems to be the standard way of killing the character, and it works because it’s something that Clark just cannot prevent. Here, though, said attack is suffered after Jonathan has exerted himself saving Martha from an explosive device launched by Brainiac as a final act of revenge. In other words – if the Kents hadn’t adopted Clark, Jonathan would still be alive. And that just doesn’t work with Superman. You can’t go piling that kind of guilt onto his shoulders – he’s not a Marvel character, you can’t ever have him question whether he should be doing what he does. Coming from someone who’s generally shown a good grasp of the background and motivations of DC characters, it’s a disappointing misstep.

And of course, coming so soon after All Star, the issue can’t help but invite comparisons to Morrison and Quitely’s version of the same story – it even features the near-identical image of a previously-unaware Clark suddenly flying home at breakneck speed (Gary Frank does well here to convey the torment on his face as he does so, but it’s still not quite up there with Quitely’s flame-licked image). The thing is, while this Action run is superficially a technically well-crafted story (and I don’t mean that as an insult – many people struggle to make comics any good even on that superficial level), it doesn’t have the heart that it thinks it does. I found Morrison’s version genuinely moving – I feel like this, however, is trying to yank at my heartstrings with the payoff, but without putting in the effort to earlier get me emotionally invested in the story.

As a conclusion to the “Brainiac” storyline, meanwhile, this feels a bit weak. After building up the threat of Brainiac for months, it transpires that he’s… well, not much of a threat at all, really. Superman ends up defeating him rather easily, and it’s only by virtue of the closing pages that he’s left having any kind of impact on things. There’s a nice moment with Clark and Kara (her rehabilitation continues), but little else of any weight – and indeed, it feels like the death of Jonathan has been tacked on to the story to give the impression of a substance that isn’t really there beneath the surface. It looks great, and it apparently does the job that a straightforward superhero story should – but call it heart, or depth, or resonance, or anything else: there just seems to be something lacking.

This week marks the start of the new Sunday Pages format, incorporating capsule reviews alongside news tidbits. Since Julian’s now joining us, you can identify his contributions by the initials [JHa] and mine by [JHu], while Seb , obviously, gets to keep the more concise [SP]. We’re still feeling out the specifics, so be sure to let us know how you’re finding it, and whether or not you think it could be improved! Look inside for mini-reviews of Action Comics #869, Amazing Spider-Man #572, Greatest Hits #1 and X-Factor #35, as well as some discussion of Neil Gaiman’s reaction to the new Hitchiker’s Guide book.

Review: Action Comics #869
Renewing focus on the bottle city of Kandor (presumably in readiness for an upcoming storyline that will see thousands of Kryptonians unleashed upon Earth – yeah, that doesn’t dilute the impact of Superman’s existence at all), Geoff Johns plays a quite startling continuity twist on a major character, leaving you wondering exactly where he plans to take it (and how he’ll maintain said character’s relevance). Other than that, the same type of Brainiac story we’ve seen countless times before rolls on in the least interesting issue of the arc so far. Gary Frank’s art is still solid, and his Reeve-esque Superman excellent – but he doesn’t get Supergirl right at all. Oh, and despite the fact that an obviously-imminent event is majorly foreshadowed by the issue’s cover, nothing of the sort actually happens within its pages. Sloppy. [SP]

Review: Amazing Spider-Man #572
In the fifth part of “New Ways to Die” Slott and Romita Jr. give us a rare Spider-Man/Bullseye fight, perfectly executed by all involved, which alone makes the issue worth the price. Both creators aren’t entirely at their best, though, and in a rare slip-up, Romita Jr. spectacularly fails to get a grip on the character design of Freak (whose depiction would be unrecognisable, were he not explicitly named on the page) while Slott ends the book on a cliffhanger only a mother could love. A symbiote-wearing Mac Gargan back in the Scorpion costume? It sounds only half as ridiculous as it ends up looking. It’s unusual to see two usually-dependable creators tripping up in this issue, but even taking that into account, the scale and pace of action should mean that the storyline comes out a winner overall. [JHu]

Review: Greatest Hits #1
Promising start to this Vertigo miniseries about a team of British celebrity superheroes in the ’60s, its narrative jumping between “then” and “now”. Writer David Tischman’s conceit is hardly the most original thing in the world – it’s a bit X-Statix, a bit Authority, a bit MI:13and a bit various other things as well – but it’s entertaining enough. Glenn Fabry, meanwhile, is really starting to come into his own on internal art (having spent years as one of the industry’s foremost cover painters), and here he’s arguably the best he’s ever been. Hard to see exactly where it’s going just yet, but seems worth finding out. [SP]

Review: X-Factor #35
Another reasonable issue, with a welcome return of Madrox’s “rogue duplicate” plotline. However, the book continues to be let down by Larry Stoman providing some of the worst art in an X-title since Igor Kordey was having to draw an issue a week of New X-Men. I’m having to rely on the colouring not just to differentiate between characters, but to tell what gender they are…   [JHa]

News: Gaiman’s reaction to 6th Hitchiker’s novel
As a big fan of the Hitchiker’s Guide books, I was fairly upset at the idea of someone who isn’t Douglas Adams writing a new one – especially since there are a few other choices who I think would’ve been far more legitimate than the guy who wrote Artemis Fowl. One of those people would’ve been Neil Gaiman, who acted as both friend and biographer to Douglas Adams. Gaiman has responded directly to the idea of a new Guide book on his journal, stating:

Douglas asked me if I’d like to adapt Life, The Universe and Everythingfor radio I said no, and that was with Douglas alive and asking. (Dirk Maggs did it, and did an excellent job.) It seemed a thankless task.

Which clears up that idea. “Thankless” is right, though. We can’t know how Adams would’ve felt about having someone else write another Hitchiker’s book, but as the target audience, I know I feel pretty damn despondant about it. Without Adams’ involvement, you have to wonder what, exactly, the point of it is. Hitchiker’s guide was never about the characters – always about Adams. [JHu]

News : Quitely, Grant x 2 and Haward at Forbidden Planet London
Those of you who are around London this coming Saturday, 27th September could do a lot worse than making your way over to Forbidden Planet, Shaftesbury Avenue for 1pm. Uber-artist Frank Quitely rarely seems to make public appearances, so this is a fantastic opportunity to meet and greet the man described by this very site as “the singular greatest artistic talent currently working in the industry”. He’s there with Alan Grant, Jamie Grant and Jon Haward, signing copies of Wasted, their new Scottish drug-themed adult humour anthology comic. And although I don’t know what FP’s policy on signed items will be, even if they don’t let you get your All Star Supermans and We3s signed, Wasted itself is only £3.25, so it’s no great hardship. And hey, if you pop along, you may even find yourself bumping into one or all of the Comics Daily team, which is even more exciting! [SP]

Shameless Plugging : NTS, Den of Geek…
Since we haven’t done a “proper” Sunday Pages for a few weeks, I’ve missed the chance to give a hearty old plug to my new monthly comics column on the relaunched Noise to Signal. If there are any longer-term readers of my reviews out there, they may remember that “Panel Beating” was the name I originally used for my first comics review column. Well, much as with James over at Den of Geek, I liked the pun so much I’ve decided to keep it for a new generation of monthly columns in which I’ll spout forth on whatever comics-related subjects – topical or otherwise – take my fancy. The first column after the relaunch is, appropriately enough, about the history of “relaunch issues”. Meanwhile, speaking of James, following a brief holiday he’s returned triumphantly to Alternate Cover, with columns on digital comics and the rubbishness of Absolute Black Dossier… [SP]

Throughout the series so far, the most fun elements have been in touching upon well-known moments from post-Crisis DCU history, and this issue – as you’d guess from the numbering and superbly-recreated cover dress – is no different, spending the opening pages tying in (once again, somewhat belatedly) to the DC One Million event. As with the Zero Hour issue, however, the use of said event is more fleeting and incidental than you’d expect – really, the sequence with Peter Platinum, amusing as it is, serves little purpose other than to set off Booster’s train of thought about the sort of hero he’s perceived as – and the sort of people he’s inspired. Throughout the series he’s been content to play the role of “secret hero”, nobly sacrificing reputation in the interest of the greater good – but here, learning that his perceived misdeeds have inspired others to try and “play the con” better, he realises that enough is enough – and it takes a surprising encounter with Batman to encourage him otherwise.

As Johns and Katz tidy things up in the wake of their departure, though, the issue is primarily about tweaking the status quo, and providing something of an uplifting conclusion to their arc – consequently, a major figure in Booster’s life makes a sudden and surprise return, and according to all available evidence it’s a long-term thing (no, it’s not Ted… sorry). Furthermore, the closing couple of pages throw an entirely sudden an unexpected twist straight out of left-field, one of those moments that leaves you wondering how long it’s been planned – and where it’s supposed to go from there. It’s all very deliberately fan-pleasing, though, and you could call that a criticism were it not for the fact that Booster Gold has been designed from day one to appeal to a particular type of reader (specifically, those for whom the last few years’ worth of DC stories have inspired the creation of Dan Didio voodoo dolls), so you can’t argue with the idea of giving them what they want one more time.

The series is now left, though, in a curious position, with a two-part Chuck Dixon story (written before his sudden departure) on the way and still no confirmed  – or, at least, announced – writer for beyond that. You half sense that the thing to do would be to draw a line under it for now – it’s not as if the status quo isn’t set up for someone to take up the baton in the future, merely that this feels like a good point for a breather. On the other hand, certain elements of this issue (some further tantalising blackboard mentions, including Azrael and Armageddon 2001, and another of those “Coming soon in Booster Gold” teaser pages) suggest that future stories are mapped out by someone. Whatever happens, the series will at least benefit from the presence of Dan Jurgens, who’s lent it a consistently solid feel from the start and who genuinely comes off like he could sit drawing this character interacting with the DCU at large for the rest of his career.

The last year or so has been something of a golden time for fans of the early ‘90s Justice League stories, with not one but two books (this and Blue Beetle) that contain affectionate references while also espousing exactly the same type of storytelling that characterised those classics. But both series have now lost the writing teams that made them such a joy, and it remains to be seen if any of their momentum can carry through into a new era. It’s certainly to be hoped so.