09 Nov, 2007
Ultimates 3 #1
By: Jason Michelitch


Jeph Loeb’s writing hasn’t worked for me since Batman: The Long Halloween, and I never really “got” Joe Madureira, and I’d stopped reading The Ultimates back around issue 5 when I got tired of reading about the Avengers recast as shallow and vicious Blackwater operatives. So I didn’t have any great hopes for ULTIMATES 3. Rather than ignore the book, though, I looked on it as an opportunity - an opportunity to give Loeb, Madureira, and The Ultimates each a second chance. It’s December, after all, and I’m told that forgiveness and second chances are part of some holiday you all have coming up.
Turns out I really shouldn’t have bothered. The book isn’t completely terrible or anything, but it’s almost aggressively bland. As much as I despise Mark Millar, he has a surface veneer of cleverness, and at least Bryan Hitch brought the widescreen-action of The Authority to the party and made the original Ultimates somewhat new and exciting (though the elements of that style have now made their way outwards and are now commonplace, the way contemporary pop songs started showing up ironically in mainstream films a few years after Kenneth Anger’s Scorpio Rising cut scenes from a movie about Jesus together with The Shangri-Las’ “Leader of the Pack”).
Madureira’s art just looks like the ’90s, his manga-influenced style not looking nearly as odd or different in this manga-infused decade. The coloring by Christian Lichtner casts a muddy-brownish red over everything, turning all the visuals into a non-dynamic mush, making the whole book just look like one of the lesser Virgin Comics titles. Jeph Loeb’s writing also reeks of the ’90s, only with the new Ought-friendly elements of secret porn tapes, incest, slobbery drug overdoses and gory holes through people’s hands. Anybody remember when the Ultimate line was supposed to be appropriate for eight-year olds?
Speaking of the Ultimate LINE, the biggest problem with this book is that it is, at its core, just another superhero book in a line of superhero books. It only took about six years or so, but the Ultimate line seems to be showing the same kind of inbred storytelling sense that mars almost all of the superhero books from the major companies. None of the characters are introduced beyond being labeled on a splash page with their name in a box during a huge fight scene. Scenes of character tension fall flat without any back-story to explain what the hell they’re about. This thing might say “issue 1″ on it, but if I gave a copy to a new reader they’d never read a comic book again.
Really, the whole systemic problem can be diagnosed by looking at the inside cover house ad for Ultimate Secrets, which asks in bold letters at the top of the page: “IS ULTIMATE SPIDER-MAN A CLONE” (Nothing says ’90s like that question, huh?). Ultimate Secrets is a HANDBOOK. You remember handbooks, right? They’re those mildly diverting novelties that have absolutely no bearing on any form of storytelling recognized by intelligent human beings. And they’re back! Ultimate-style!







