Warlord of Mars 1

I grew up reading the Marvel-ous stories of John Carter, Warlord of Mars, the four armed Martian Tars Tarkas and Princess Dejah Thoris. They were spectacular pulp adventures, both written (by Marv Wolfman) and illustrated (Gil Kane, Carmine Infantino) in a vibrantly colorful way. Following the comic book, I gobbled up Edgar Rice Burroughs’ series of classic novels, which proved even better than the comic.

When I heard a new comic book adaptation of this childhood hero of mine was about to be reinvented for the modern age, my hopeful thoughts sprang instantly to Dark Horse’s generally fine (and sporadically brilliant) current Conan series as well as DC’s rebooted Jonah Hex, equally fine. Despite those two examples, I don’t hold mainstream comics in highest regard.  So when I read positive reactions to the first issue of Warlord of Mars, and heard that its publisher felt confident enough about it to sell it for one dollar, I felt elated, excited and relieved.

Holding the first issue in my hands, I have to say that this is not a thoroughly terrible comic book. The fact that they misspell Edgar Rice Burroughs’ name on the credits pages doesn’t bode well. I’m not sure it’s worth a full dollar, but I’d pay 25 cents for the next one just to see if the decline is as fast as it was from the first half of this issue to the second.

[many plot spoilers follow in the next two paragraphs]

Let’s dissect this a bit. The story has John Carter and his buddy, both former confederate soldiers, having a drink in a bar when a small troop of bluecoats enter and start declaring what a good fellow Abraham Lincoln is.  When Carter fails to salute Honest Abe, and walks out the saloon door, the bluecoats insult his home state Virginia. Nothing good can come out of this, and Carter decides to show these crude bastards some manners. Shootout ensues and Carter and his buddy kill the Union troops, one with the kind assistance of the bartender.

This is all illustrated in a competent manner, with flashy panel work and close-up shots, exploding heads and curses and grimaces. Coloring doesn’t instantly turn me off, though it doesn’t particularly appeal to me either. Overall, though, I liked the book up until this point, for what it was. It implied that while it was not politically correct to have Indians be the bad guys — as was the case in the Burroughs book — it was going to be at least off-color in the manner of Jonah Hex. John Carter didn’t like America’s hero Abe Lincoln and wasn’t going to take kindly to the badmouthing of his home state. Sounds like there’s plenty of room for this character to grow. But when you feel the need to have Carter discover the scalps of Indian women and children in the saddlebags of the bluecoats after the massacre, just to make them seem vile and thus rationalize shooting the bastards…. I’m less than thrilled. It really kicked the wind out of my sails: I was rolling with the punches, entertained and hopeful. I’m at best disappointed and moderately annoyed at this juncture, as the John Carter half of this storyline ends.

A paralleling plot set on Mars constitutes the second half of the issue. The quality of the art drops several notches and the writing is terrible: a brief expository set piece followed by bloody action set piece followed by a set up for the next issue. The less I say about this half of the book, the better. It’s murky, uninspired and incompetent on every level.

So in the end, I had felt the urge to pick up a book I was uncertain of, but cheap enough not to matter if it turned out to be uninteresting. I didn’t expect much — usually a good recipe for finding something worthwhile inside the covers. In this instance, the J. Scott Campbell cover may bring in the fanboys, but will most certainly leave them unsatisfied with the content. Unfortunately, even those expecting a revival of an old favorite will find the contents equally lacking.

My five emotional states for Warlord of Mars are: Excitement, Elation, Deflation, Disenchantment, and Depression.