Aliens vs Predator, Aliens/Predator: Deadliest of the Species, Aliens versus Predator versus the Terminator

The original Aliens vs. Predator miniseries came out in 1990. When I undertook my inventory in 2011 I was surprised to find that I did not own this series, as I have very clear memories of reading the issues at my parent’s house. The most likely explanation is that this was a comic my father bought. Pretty much any comic my father bought was read by me, which means I got to read Mike Grell’s run on Green Arrow, Epic Comic’s Alien Legion, all the DC Comic runs of Star Trek: The Next Generation and a host of other stuff slightly less memorable. I mentioned this before that while I collected comics, my father mostly just read them. Every year or two he’d purge his collection; either threw them out or gave them away at garage sales or something. This wasn’t something I cared much about when I was in my teens—after all, if my dad was reading something I cared about, I would’ve taken his comics and put it in my collection. It’s only with the hindsight of adulthood that I realize many of the titles he read would be enjoyed by me now (another piece of evidence to hurl onto the overflowing pile of evidence that, not only am I my father’s son but that I have, incontrovertibly, turned into my father). Thus I can add Aliens vs. Predator to the list of comics I deeply regret not saving from my father’s callous disregard for posterity.

My original intent was to just review Aliens / Predator: The Deadliest of the Species, and then I decided to tack on Aliens vs Predator vs the Terminator because, well, how could I not? But this past Saturday I found myself in a comicbook store (read: all these comicbook reading has made me nostalgic and now I find myself haunting comicbook stores in a futile attempt to reclaim the joys of my youth) and I stumbled upon a complete set of the original Aliens vs Predator mini-series, the comicbook I remember reading 22 years ago. So now I have read three separate mini-series, 21 comics in all, and I feel sufficiently immersed in “Aliens versus Predators” stories that I can write a comprehensive and insightful review of the oeuvre in total.

Adventures of Superman 0, 517 - 531, 578, 582 - 583

There’s a scene in Adventures of Superman #583 where Batman, having been killed (again) by The Joker, revives and claws his way out of the grave Superman dug for him. It’s a splash page with two inset panels. The two panels show Batman’s gloved hand breaking out of the surface, in true horror movie fashion. The splash page itself shows a Batman, free from the waist up, continuing to claw his way out. His face is mostly in shadow, and with the pointed “ears” of his cowl, along with the agape mouth, he looks feral, driven by instinct as much as madness. The panel is both awesome and terrifying. At the same time, it took me out of the story completely because it reminded of a very similar scene, one written by the same man who wrote #583, J.M. DeMatteis. That other scene was written 13 years earlier, and was a Spider-Man story. That story, like this one, featured the apparent death of a hero, Spider-Man, who of course wasn’t really dead and who also had to claw his way out from his own grave while the rain pours down. Here are the two images, for comparison’s sake:
 

Adventures of Superman #505 - 516

I’ve been struggling with writing this blog entry, trying to explain why there were some elements about these issues that I liked, some that I think failed, and some that were just kinda “meh”, but it wasn’t coming together at all. After dwelling on it for a couple of days, I think I finally figured out what was missing: chemistry.
 

The Adventures of Cyclops and Phoenix

True story: when I was 12 (or maybe 13), my birthday present was a tour of Marvel Comic’s office. They did tours back then—don’t ask me how I knew about this, or how my father found out how to schedule one. But it was me, three or four friends, my father, and few strangers who scheduled their tour on the same day. Two of my friends, Ryan and David, were not comicbook readers in the slightest. In retrospect, that two ‘tween boys would agree to spend a few hours walking around a comicbook studio is a testament to how deep our friendship was, although such selflessness was lost on me at the time. But my point is this: at the beginning of the tour, the tour guide asked everyone which Marvel Comics they read. And to a person, everyone, no matter what other titles they mentioned, said they read The X-Men. Even my friends, who did not read comics but obviously knew how to follow the leader, said they read The X-Men.

It feels a bit early to talk about the X-Men—I’m some 23 letters and 6,000 comics away from reaching that eponymous title. But the X-Men weren’t just a comicbook, they were a black hole. You could not read Marvel comics and escape its pull. And once they sucked you in, you were done for. Exhibit A for the prosecution, your honors: The 1994 mini-series The Adventures of Cyclops and Phoenix, wherein we join the titular characters as they spend their honeymoon. Only, being “an X-Men Book” (as the cover so helpfully explains, lest an X-fan turn their nose up at a lowly non-X-Men book), this isn’t just a cute little rom-com about a one-eyed guy and his bird relaxing on the beach. No, no; as the tile says, this is an X-Men book, which means we need a story of how Scott “Cyclops” Summers and Jean “Phoenix” Grey are transported 2,000 years in the future, by Scott and Jean’s daughter from a more closer future time, so they can raise Scott’s son (from a prior marriage to a Jean Grey clone), who is destined to become the time-travelling mutant Cable, whilst simultaneously joining the revolution against the mad mutant/demi-god, Apocalypse.  Welcome to the world of the X-Men circa 1994.

Action Comics 710 – 717

In issue 711, at the climax of “The Death of Clark Kent”, when Superman confronts Conduit, he does something very dramatic: Superman takes off his costume, offering to fight his enemy not as Superman but as Clark Kent. After all, Conduit is really Kenny Braverman (subtle, huh?), Clarks childhood friend. It is Clark that Kenny has grown to hate; it is Clark’s life that Kenny has been systematically attacking for the last two months worth of comicbooks. It’s a powerful moment, as it clearly illustrates that there is a difference between Superman and Clark Kent. Except everything else in this story, as well as what follows, shows there’s no difference between the two at all.

Action Comics 701 – 703, 0, 704 – 709

What if each issue of Action Comics really was a month in the life of Superman? It would mean his life would be like this:

May: Stop Lex from using Kryptonian battle suit to ruin city

June: Fight Bloodsport on a bridge

July: Participate in semi-annual DC Universe cross-over event; meet an alternate-timeline version of parents; watch the universe get destroyed (again).

August: Fight old home-town friend now out to kill me

September: Track down Eradicator because I think he’s making me crazy

October: Continue to go insane; steal a body from S.T.A.R. Labs and fight the Special Crimes Unit.

November: Let Supergirl take the spotlight while I share a plane ride with Perry White

December: Fight hi-tech ninja but finish in time to spend New Years with Lois

January: Get caught in a trap with Mr. Miracle

February: Fight a possessed Guy Gardner

Whew. No wonder they needed skip weeks.

Action Comics 692 – 700

Now that I’ve read the next eight issues of Action, after being significantly bummed out from reading the “Reign of the Supermen” stories, I’m now feeling a little more confident in the decisions my 18-year-old self made. Granted, deciding to collect (or not to collect) a comicbook isn’t exactly on the same scale of decision-making as, say, what college to go to, or what career path to take. But if my run of Action Comics were to be an encapsulation of my collection in total, based off my reaction to the last batch of issues I reviewed, it would be disconcerting to think the majority of my collection would be something that doesn’t hold up to more adult scrutability. This isn’t to say these eight issues are shining examples of the best the medium has to offer, but much like A. Bizarro, I found them to be (mostly) enjoyable for what they are: fun, slightly breezy, entertainment.