The Flash, Volume 4: Reverse (Review)

The Flash, Volume 4: Reverse

Francis Manapul's final arc of The New 52's The Flash is arguably his best—and that's saying a lot, considering the quality of his output thus far. It's also his most mature. After the wild sci-fi hijinks of the last two arcs, this volume marks a return to the more personal tale with which Manapul began his run on the title. The stakes here are much higher than they were when Flash battled Mob Rule, though, as this story moves with all the urgency and gravitas of a finale. There is a sense that Manapul and co-creator Brian Buccellato's run has been building to this; indeed, after a quick tease at the end of the last volume, Barry Allen finally comes face-to-face with his legendary nemesis, Reverse-Flash.

The classic villain's reinvention here is thorough, but done in such a way as to maximize the emotional payoff. Smashing the reset button and rewriting established character arcs and continuities is like playing with fire. Fans are just as likely to respond with positive reception as they are to make sure the new content tanks in terms of sales if they don't like where things are going. Because of the fickle fanbase, Manapul and Buccellato's handling of Reverse-Flash undoubtedly has its detractors. But even the most devoted comic book purists shouldn't let their emotions get in the way of reading and investing in this ripping good yarn that touts a surprisingly hefty amount of pathos.

Everything in this volume really does revolve around Reverse-Flash and unmasking his motivations. Revealed to be Daniel West, the brother of Flash's long-standing love interest Iris West, Reverse-Flash has been draining the energy of everyone affected by the Speed Force in an effort to tear through time itself and turn back the clock to kill his and Iris's abusive father. Though perhaps a little heavy on melodrama, the end result is nevertheless a pretty sympathetic villain with a clear and understandable ambition. The writers do some great character work with Daniel, who nearly succeeds in murdering his father, only for his plan to go horribly awry when a younger version of himself and his sister return home. Suddenly confronted by his own trauma, Daniel faces a crisis of choice when the Flash intervenes and suggests that altering time and murdering his father in front his younger self will cause more trauma to young Daniel than anything else. The solution, Flash explains, is not in running from or changing the past, but in facing one's ghosts and dealing with trauma as best one can.

The thing I most admire about Manapul and Buccellato's narrative is that it refuses to fall prey to sentimentality. Though Reverse-Flash is stopped, Daniel is unable to bring himself to fully let go of the trauma his father inflicted on him, forcing Flash to drain him of his Speed Force energy in order to set aright the fractured timeline. Though he is reunited with his sister, he remains embittered and vindictive, saying that he would try again to turn back the clock and murder their father if given the chance. Even after he's carted off to prison, Iris visits him and explains that she has allowed the pain of their childhood to drive her to become a better, stronger, better-adjusted person, but Daniel is too warped to see anything other than his own pain and anger. When Iris leaves him to his fate, one gets the sense that the prison he's held in is far better than the personal hell he has made for himself.

Barry, of course, revisits his own crisis in light of Daniel's plight. He has to come to terms with the fact that he now knows he can turn back the clock and prevent his mother's murder, but that to do so would come at too high a cost. If altering the past necessarily means altering the present, then he would be putting his own selfish desires above the multitude of those whom he has saved. Commander Spock would frame the conundrum in this way, "Logic clearly dictates that the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few." Barry's decision to not splinter time in an attempt to rescue his mother is also not airbrushed, and there is a cost. It puts a strain on his relationship with his girlfriend, and it means that he must continue to search for evidence to prove his father's innocence. It's a bittersweet but hopeful ending, one that suggests that even the most debilitating and emotionally crippling of childhood traumas might be overcome. It will not be easy—but it is not impossible.

Together, Manapul and Buccellato delivered a triumphant run on The Flash that stands as one of the best things to come out of DC's New 52 era. The synergy between art and narrative has made for a gorgeous comic book that positively simmers with the kooky and old fashioned spirit of the earliest works in the genre. It's nice to see Manapul's final chapter give the Scarlet Speedster a poignant, emotionally resonant sendoff. When reading comics is this much fun, what more can you ask for than a mature and clear-eyed final statement that nonetheless leaves readers with a renewed sense of hope?

The Flash, Volume 3: Gorilla Warfare (Review)

Continuing their wildly successful reimagining of the Flash, Manapul and Buccellato deliver some of their best work on the title with Gorilla Warfare. The story picks up where the previous volume ends, with Grodd's forces raining into Central City. Grodd has returned, believing himself the only one capable of wielding the power of the Speed Force, and he's not going to let anyone stand in his way. In many ways, this story acts as a culmination of the work the creators have done thus far, as it's all hands on deck with heroes and villains alike uniting against this unprecedented threat.

The Flash, Volume 3: Gorilla Warfare

Wrapping up the Grodd invasion story takes up the majority of the volume, though the back half changes up the storytelling a bit, offering a few smaller narratives. One in particular sees Barry temporarily losing his powers in the middle of a sticky situation, and being forced to improvise. But these are the kinds of risks that Manapul and Buccellato are willing to take as storytellers, which keeps things fresh and prevents the execution from ever becoming too predictable. Perhaps the book's biggest tease comes in the form of Reverse-Flash, one of our titular hero's greatest villains. First introduced way back in the 1940s as "the Rival," Reverse-Flash is the Flash's archenemy, and arguably his biggest threat. We get a look at the character's New 52 redesign in this volume, and—minor qualms about the character's look aside—the tease is pretty spectacular.

One thing I've noticed reading through the series is the story's deft pacing. Barry moves faster than anything on the planet, and the story zips along pretty quickly, never giving us time to lull into the absurdity of the story being told. Talking gorillas? Don't worry about that, the story says, just go with it. This lends the title a unique, pulpy feel that feels like the story could have been ripped from an older time. And that is, perhaps, why The Flash was so well-received by audiences and critics alike during The New 52 relaunch. Though this is a ground-up reimagining of characters that have been staples of pop culture for decades now, as firmly fixed in the public imagination—if not more so—as any classic character from literature or the early days of film, what Manapul and Buccellato have managed to do here is recapture the feeling of the era in which comic books were birthed.

There are well-documented connections between the decades of pulp fiction and the early years of comic book superheroes. Pulp characters like the Phantom, the Avenger, the Shadow, and Doc Savage were all prototypical superheroes, somewhat pure and distilled archetypes that formed the bedrock of what would become the modern mythological superhero phenomenon. These early stories were known for the ways in which they thumbed their noses to critics. This was not high literature, nor did it pretend to be. Pulp writers were working class people who didn't have the luxury of drinking bourbon and smoking thoughtfully on a pipe whilst waxing poetic until the perfect phrase came to them. They had a word count they had to hit, and if character development had to be sacrificed to tell the story, so be it. They could develop that character later, in another tale. All that mattered was plot, the driving force behind the narrative. These were tales aimed at popular audiences, not literature professors. And what critics lambasted, audiences loved, and comics book creators have spent nearly a century now trying to claw their way out from under those prejudices. Only in the past decade or so has the academic perspective on comic books really begun to change.

The Flash catapults us back to that earlier era of b-movie plots and outlandish characters all servicing the most zany stories a writer could dream up. Manapul and Buccellato clearly love the character and the genre, and the art continues to wrap this wild story in a gorgeous package that makes reading it not only feel like a rediscovery of something older and more primal, but also an absolute pleasure. For anyone interested in a modern comic book that has all the quirks and madcap trappings of a bygone era in storytelling, The Flash is a title you don't want to miss.

The Flash, Volume 2: Rogues Revolution (Review)

The second volume of The Flash, titled Rogues Revolution, picks up right where the first ends, with our titular hero quite literally dropped into the middle of things. From the jump, we are introduced to Grodd, a classic Flash villain who also happens to be a massive, super-intelligent Gorilla. Think bigger, meaner, angrier Caesar from the reimagined Planet of the Apes trilogy and throw in some superpowers, and you're well on your way to understanding Grodd.

The Flash: Rogues Revolution

The first part of the book is dedicated to exploring Grodd and his kingdom, Gorilla City (comics are not known for their subtlety). And, for my money, this is some of the most interesting stuff in the volume. Manapul and Buccellato do a good job here of tapping into the Flash's mythic potential. As the newly-crowned king of Gorilla City, Grodd sees Flash as a threat to his rule, but the city's elders recognize him as a long-prophesied "messenger." It's worth noting that Hermes, the Greek god with remarkable speed due to his golden sandals, to whom Flash bears more than a passing resemblance, was known as the "messenger" of the ancient gods—the analogue is unmistakable. A lot of tantalizing clues are dropped in this section, but it's not long before the story zips back to Central City.

Once leaving Grodd behind, the book turns to focus primarily on another group of villains, known as the Rogues. The character that sees the most development here is Leonard Snart, the iconic, if somewhat underrated, Captain Cold. Like Grodd, Snart is reimagined in some interesting ways, and that reimagining lays the groundwork for the heart of the story this time around. Formerly a kind of leader of the Rogues, Snart has been ousted and replaced by a mysterious and beautiful entity called Glider.

The writers do a good job of building up sympathy for Snart, showing him to be a mostly honorable man who's just made some bad choices in life and is now paying for his sins. He no longer comes across as a bargain bin Mr. Freeze, but as a living, breathing character with his own agenda. When he finally shows up to help the Flash in the fight against his former allies, it's pretty exhilarating to see these two enemies on the same side. This kind of subversive storytelling so early on in their run demonstrates the creators' resolve to do something truly unique and not tread on ground previously covered by earlier writers. Like the previous volume, Rogues Revolution ends on a cliffhanger that is absolutely bonkers, with Grodd and his army raining into Central City seeking revenge. This is the kind of wild and offbeat storytelling that only the unique medium of comic books can really do well, neither taking itself too seriously nor sacrificing the integrity of beloved characters.

The art by Manapul and Buccellato remains a standout on this title. The few sections of the book containing art by Marcus To and Ray McCarthy are a little jarring to come across at first. That's not to say this art is bad—it certainly isn't—only that it's categorically different from what we have grown accustomed to. It's not uncommon for comic books to rotate writers and artists, if only to give consistent workers a bit of a break from having to produce content on a crunched schedule. But when the art has been as defining as it has been here, to deviate from that creates a certain amount of subtle dissonance in the flow of the narrative. But, this is a minor qualm with an otherwise gorgeous book. Rogues Revolution is a fun, fleet continuation and another win for Manapul and Buccellato as they carry on writing and drawing their definitive work on the Flash.

The Flash, Volume 1: Move Forward (Review)

When DC rebooted their comic book universe with The New 52 in 2011, the Flash was one of their many mainline characters to receive a facelift. Despite the overall initiative's mixed reception, The Flash is one title to consistently appear on many "best of" lists from that era of the publisher's history. With industry veterans Francis Manapul and Brian Buccellato on both writing and art duties, it's easy to see why.

The Flash: Move Forward

Manapul's comic art is some of the most distinct in the business, and his pairing with colorist Buccellato is an uncanny match. The complementary artistic styles combined with their tag-team effort on the story immediately puts The Flash in a category all on its own. Rarely is such a synthesis of narrative, art, and general style so fully realized in a mainstream comic book. But here it is, and the world is better for it. The New 52 was geared primarily toward accessibility, creating space for new readers to jump aboard classic titles that had been running for decades. And Move Forward is the perfect place to start following the adventures of the Scarlet Speedster.

Forensic investigator Barry Allen is the fastest man alive. After he's struck by lightning and doused in chemicals, he gains access to a mysterious energy field known as the Speed Force, which grants him the ability to move very quickly. Donning a bright red suit, this modern day Hermes (or Mercury) races through Central City as the Flash, protecting the city's residents and fighting all manner of crime. This is a pretty straightforward concept for a superhero that clicks neatly into archetypal place. And there are two ways of approaching a character like the Flash, whose superability basically boils down to "he can run real fast." One approach reduces the character to a supporting role, which is usually what happens in most of the character's adaptations outside of the source material, essentially turning Barry into something like a wise-cracking sidekick to the more popular Justice League members. But there is another approach, one that seeks to embrace the inherent silliness of the genre, while trying to work with the character in interesting ways. Thankfully, Manapul and Buccellato take the latter approach.

As accessible as this volume is to first time readers, the plot is deceptively complex. But it doesn't hit you until the back half of the story. The world of the Flash is much more akin to pulp science fiction than that of many other mainstream heroes, which makes a certain amount of sense given Barry's abilities. When you have a character who can lap the world a couple of times before breakfast, the storytelling has to be creative enough to actually develop real conflict and lend the characters some relatability. The unfortunate result is that, like Superman stories, Flash tales can easily fall into the category of paint-by-the-number, with goofy villains posing minimal real threat, contrived conflicts, and underwritten characters. But Manapul and Buccellato manage to strike a good balance here between the bonkers sci-fi elements and good character development. There's a sense in which they throw everything and the kitchen sink into the story, which begins with a rogue CIA asset named Manuel—who just so happens to be an old friend of Barry's—who has the ability to clone himself, before pivoting into time travel, then venturing into the Speed Force itself.

If all of this sounds very confusing, that's because it is. This is a book written with uncommon intelligence and attention to detail, stringing together multiple classic sci-fi genre tropes with the kind of reckless abandon and lightness of touch that you sort of forget how hard it is to tell these types of stories well. Manapul and Buccellato make this look easy, and Move Forward really should be a kind of gold standard across the medium for how to reinvent a classic character with smart storytelling, solid dialogue, great themes, and sheer fun. This is the kind of story that doesn't appear to demand much from readers at first glance, but for those who like thinking through stories and spending time with characters, there is a trove of good content here. This book definitely rewards multiple readings.

I most appreciate how the creators write Barry. He's always been a bit of an everyman, but it's very easy to turn him into a mouthy brat. There's not a trace of that kind of laziness here. He's funny without being reduced to slapstick, enthusiastic without being blindly optimistic. Like anybody, he has his insecurities, but he doesn't let those things define him. He's still figuring out the extent of his powers at this point, and both their unpredictability and his limitless potential lend the volume a healthy dose of excitement, as we want to find out just how far Barry can push himself. The pounding plot is tempered by the occasional moment of quiet reflection, and these quieter moments interspersed with flashbacks are some of the best rendered panels in the entire volume. Barry Allen is a genuinely likable hero, the charming kind with a touch of whimsy, cut from an older cloth of storytelling and who are increasingly hard to find these days.

Move Forward is a great introduction to the Flash, an iconic and much beloved character in the DC universe. A zany sci-fi romp from first panel to last, the superb artwork by both creators is just the icing on the cake of this brilliant reinvention. In the capable hands of Manapul and Buccellato, The Flash promises to take readers on a wild ride.

You just have to keep up.