Gotham Central
[color=008b8b]Gotham Central #s 6 & 7: "Half A Life"
Written by Greg Rucka, drawn by Michael Lark
DC, monthly, color, $2.50 cover price[/color]
There used to be something of an unwritten rule that there should be no more than one woman on a comic book team. DC had a basic template (later copied by an obscure Marvel comic...): the leader, his brawny best friend, his girlfriend and her kid brother. There were Sea Devils, Rip Hunter: Time Master; Cave Carson: Adventures Inside Earth; and probably others I'm not geeky enough to admit remembering.
(The Blackhawks and the Challengers of the Unknown were too manly to officially have any women members, although both condescended to allow one woman to hang around unofficially -- June Robbins for the Challengers, Zinda (Lady Blackhawk) for the Blackhawks. Later, of course, it turned out that Andre, the French Blackhawk who was always boasting about his female conquests, was actually terrified by the thought of going out with a woman... But I guess I'm wandering from the point.)
The JLA was permitted one female member, which for years was Wonder Woman. (Hawkgirl was not permitted to join when Hawkman did, on a flimsy pretext.) Only when Wonder Woman lost her powers and resigned, in 1969, was the Black Canary allowed to come in and replace her.
Over at Marvel, the Avengers started with the Wasp as the sole woman; when she (and most of the other founding members) left a couple years later, the Scarlet Witch was brought in to be the new sole woman. (Likewise, Jean Grey was, for the entire initial run of the book, the sole X-Man who wasn't a man. And when the book was revived in the mid-1970s, the original cast was replaced by 5 new regulars, with Storm the sole not-a-man X-Man.)
It was a great day in human history when the wall keeping a second woman off a super-team finally came crashing down.
A similar wall comes down in the current issues of Gotham Central. For years police captain Maggie Sawyer has been one of a handful of lesbian characters at DC. And while DC is to be commended for including lesbians in positive roles (and giving Maggie, essentially, her own mini-series 10 years ago -- Metropolis: SCU, for those who missed it), still, most mainstream books that include a lesbian or a gay male seem to have an unwritten rule that one is enough.
Gotham Central is an based on an interesting concept: what is life like for the ordinary police officers in an extraordinary city such as Gotham City? Month after month the commissioner shines the light onto the night sky to summon the Batman to deal with the criminals that, the implicit message is, are too much for ordinary cops to handle. Can't be great for morale. Nor can living in a city where, with startling regularity, things go crazy.
Over the past couple of decades, DC has built up a good supporting cast of police officers. Now it begins putting them to good use, in this book that is set in the DC universe of costumed / super-powered characters, and yet which is also rooted in the mundane world of everyday police work. Gotham Central is set in the Batman's world, and he appears peripherally, but this is still a book a skeptic can read without being embarrassed by rampant paranormality.
One of the better-kept secrets among Batman fans is that most of us buy the books to follow the adventures of policewoman Renee Montoya. Oh, sure, at a certain immature age there's a certain interest in the Batman himself, since he is famous and does have star billing. But the reason discerning fans follow the Bat-books month after month is Renee. Trust me on this one, okay?
In the hands of accomplished crime novelist Greg Rucka (Smoker; Finder; Keeper; and Shooting at Midnight, among others) Renee is finally coming into her own -- as are the various other police officers making up the cast.
There are some great scenes in these issues. The lengthy conversation between the been-out-of-the-closet-for-years Maggie Sawyer and the involuntarily-outed-and-not-ready-to-be Renee Montoya is skillfully done. Here's a small part of it:
Oh -- and there's a killer ending...
[color=008b8b]Gotham Central #s 6 & 7: "Half A Life"
Written by Greg Rucka, drawn by Michael Lark
DC, monthly, color, $2.50 cover price[/color]
There used to be something of an unwritten rule that there should be no more than one woman on a comic book team. DC had a basic template (later copied by an obscure Marvel comic...): the leader, his brawny best friend, his girlfriend and her kid brother. There were Sea Devils, Rip Hunter: Time Master; Cave Carson: Adventures Inside Earth; and probably others I'm not geeky enough to admit remembering.
(The Blackhawks and the Challengers of the Unknown were too manly to officially have any women members, although both condescended to allow one woman to hang around unofficially -- June Robbins for the Challengers, Zinda (Lady Blackhawk) for the Blackhawks. Later, of course, it turned out that Andre, the French Blackhawk who was always boasting about his female conquests, was actually terrified by the thought of going out with a woman... But I guess I'm wandering from the point.)
The JLA was permitted one female member, which for years was Wonder Woman. (Hawkgirl was not permitted to join when Hawkman did, on a flimsy pretext.) Only when Wonder Woman lost her powers and resigned, in 1969, was the Black Canary allowed to come in and replace her.
Over at Marvel, the Avengers started with the Wasp as the sole woman; when she (and most of the other founding members) left a couple years later, the Scarlet Witch was brought in to be the new sole woman. (Likewise, Jean Grey was, for the entire initial run of the book, the sole X-Man who wasn't a man. And when the book was revived in the mid-1970s, the original cast was replaced by 5 new regulars, with Storm the sole not-a-man X-Man.)
It was a great day in human history when the wall keeping a second woman off a super-team finally came crashing down.
A similar wall comes down in the current issues of Gotham Central. For years police captain Maggie Sawyer has been one of a handful of lesbian characters at DC. And while DC is to be commended for including lesbians in positive roles (and giving Maggie, essentially, her own mini-series 10 years ago -- Metropolis: SCU, for those who missed it), still, most mainstream books that include a lesbian or a gay male seem to have an unwritten rule that one is enough.
Gotham Central is an based on an interesting concept: what is life like for the ordinary police officers in an extraordinary city such as Gotham City? Month after month the commissioner shines the light onto the night sky to summon the Batman to deal with the criminals that, the implicit message is, are too much for ordinary cops to handle. Can't be great for morale. Nor can living in a city where, with startling regularity, things go crazy.
Over the past couple of decades, DC has built up a good supporting cast of police officers. Now it begins putting them to good use, in this book that is set in the DC universe of costumed / super-powered characters, and yet which is also rooted in the mundane world of everyday police work. Gotham Central is set in the Batman's world, and he appears peripherally, but this is still a book a skeptic can read without being embarrassed by rampant paranormality.
One of the better-kept secrets among Batman fans is that most of us buy the books to follow the adventures of policewoman Renee Montoya. Oh, sure, at a certain immature age there's a certain interest in the Batman himself, since he is famous and does have star billing. But the reason discerning fans follow the Bat-books month after month is Renee. Trust me on this one, okay?
In the hands of accomplished crime novelist Greg Rucka (Smoker; Finder; Keeper; and Shooting at Midnight, among others) Renee is finally coming into her own -- as are the various other police officers making up the cast.
There are some great scenes in these issues. The lengthy conversation between the been-out-of-the-closet-for-years Maggie Sawyer and the involuntarily-outed-and-not-ready-to-be Renee Montoya is skillfully done. Here's a small part of it:
Or if you prefer some black comedy mixed with your drama, there's that too:(Montoya) [color=8b008b]You've been where I am. Are you sure?
Because somehow I don't think you have. I just have a hard time picturing that.
I have a hard time picturing you as a Latina, for instance. I have a hard time picturing your parents as immigrants from the D.R. who go to Mass every Sunday. And I don't really see you having to explain every time you see them why they don't have grandchildren yet. Or why it is that you're going to Hell when you die.
This isn't Metropolis, Captain, and not just because our guy works at night. This isn't the City of Tomorrow, it's not San Francisco, and it's not New York. It's Gotham, and if you want to see what that means, just check out your squad room.
So you'll forgive me if I ask you to keep your advice to yourself.[/color]
As with most good comics, the words alone don't do the scenes justice. The subdued color sets a very noir atmosphere; and the art conveys the moods, expressions and nuances so perfectly you can feel each throbbing pulsebeat, each unspoken word, each cold shoulder.(Officer Lowe, talking in the squad room to a bunch of the guys as Montoya enters the room):
[color=d2691e] ...hear that Sawyer's collecting a whole set of them --
Speak of the devil, it's the latest addition. How you doing Detective Montoya? Have a good day up in the M.C.U.?[/color]
(Montoya, coldly) [color=8b008b]Lowe.[/color]
[color=d2691e]Oh, hey, I didn't mean to stop you or anything. You're probably in a hurry to get home to your little lady or whatever you call her, huh? The night time is the right time for love, and all that, right?[/color]
[color=8b008b]That's what your mother tells me.[/color]
Oh -- and there's a killer ending...