New comic review: Darkwing Duck #2 (Joe Books, May 2016)

"Orange Is the New Purple" Part 2 
written by Aaron Sparrow
drawn by James Silvani
(Well, technically, the way they're credited is jointly, as just the "storytellers".)

The majority of Part 2 of the new Darkwing Duck comic's first story arc is preoccupied with DW, flying by the seat of his (non-)pants, scrapping it up with one of his distinguished foes after another -- it appears that the idea is to have 'em just keep comin'. Elsewhere, in the cutaways to Negaduck watching DW from afar and Gosalyn trying to maker her way undetected to her dad, several additional villains show up, as the super-villain prison setting affords. (Hmm, maybe that was even the whole point...?) ;) 

The succession of specially selected and spotlit showdowns that DW is subject to, averaging two pages per villain, is so busy, dense, varied, and fast-paced that it not only doesn't feel too long, but feels shorter than it is, page count-wise. Honestly, on paper (...er, wait, it is...well, you know what I...never mind...), if I read an outline of this installment, I'd think, "So the story is put on hold for a long string of gratuitous villain cameos, and when we finally get to the next story beat, it's cliffhanger time?" But in execution, the comic eschews any such attempt at quantifying it structurally and functionally. Each of the scenarios that DW is thrown into -- and most importantly, the solution that he finds for each -- is fully and thoroughly developed, and genuinely original, distinguished, and clever. Along the way, every single pun, gag, and moment of comedic levity reinforcing DW as flawed hero (...yeah, he'd resent that) hits the mark. '70's Gold Key or Charlton this ain't. Sparrow and Silvani know what they're doing, so if it's it's gonna be something as structurally cut-and-dry and repetitive as "DW gets in the ring with one familiar villain after another", it's 'cause they realize the potential that such an outing has to rock, and they're gonna go all in and all out to ensure that it does.

...and not to mention that the "villains' revolving door" sequence is comparable to the immortal Looney Tunes "blackout gag" structure, which DW's TV show emulated and paid homage to on countless occasions. So Sparrow and Silvani's riffing is wildly appropriate.

Thus, when two or three (or four) major plot developments pretty much simultaneously "go down" on the last couple pages, they don't feel belated but "organic", even after such rampant frivolousness. For one thing, we were having fun the whole time anyway.  The build-up to Cat-Tankerous' return was concisely and lucidly broken down into very short bits interspersed throughout the story starting with the field trip/prison opening ceremony scene (and conveyed a considerable amount of understated pathos, actually), so we're good there. The reveal Suff-rage's Mistressterious is, on the other hand, totally out of the blue (unless there were hints I'm too dense to have picked up on) but intriguing, given how in "Campaign Carnage", her identity was tauntingly hinted at with the subtlety of a sledgehammer to the skull and the significance this would have to Darkwing Duck "'shippers", if there are in fact any fans who that designation would apply to. (Wait a minute, since I even get how this particular relationship of DW's can be taken as a big deal, I think I might be a 'shipper... NNNOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!) But then there's the fact that it appears that she's running her own hijacking of the prison independent and under the radar of Negaduck's -- definitely a wrench thrown into the works that adds a whole new angle to the story that heretofore we hadn't realized even existed, raising all kinds of questions. But in the Darkwing Duck pantheon, Negaduck trumps all, and thus the villainess with the confounding headgear making her big entrance is only part of the run-up to the more calculated blow that follows and that really leaves us dazed and staggered...

The figurative bomb that Negaduck drops on us and DW at the very last moment, that he's holding Gosalyn hostage, is no mere falling back on the damsel-in-distress trope. The fear and hurt in Darkwing's reaction is palpable, and right on target, hearkening all the way back to the bond paternal bond formed in "Darkly Dawns the Duck". That in one sense Negaduck actually is Drake (think in terms of the theory that ostensibly parallel universes are actually the same universe, sharing the same physical space but existing on different frequencies, of sorst), given the malevolence that rules every fiber of his being, and given his abusive history with his universe's Gosalyn, then for him to have her at his mercy -- as Negs is all too keenly aware -- hits Drake where he's absolutelymost vulnerable, and is the cruelest, most tragic -- but astoundingly apt -- irony. Sparrow and Silvani get these characters, and they drive home how visceral and potentially emotionally nuclear it is to have their deep-seated (and trans-dimensionally destined) rivalry -- and Gosalyn's inextricable part in it -- come to a head like this.

[And though she wasn't actually mentioned, Part 2's final scene certainly evoked the Negaverse Gosalyn... at least to me, if just because seeing "regular" Gosalyn in Negaduck's clutches reminded me of her parallel timeline counterpart.) And so, on a related note, I think I'll finally throw out to Aaron and James a question that's long eaten at me: How come Negaduck never thought to check out who lives in the "Prime" universe who might live at the address that belonged to him in the Negaverse?]

The gel-haired, vapidity-exuding two TV news anchors with names that have a ring similar to that of "derp derp" are fast on their way to becoming a staple of the comic. They work well as a framing device, given the "public" nature of DW's career of confronting and foiling "public menaces", and are a vehicle for some nice world-building, fleshing out and reinforcing St. Canard almost as a character unto itself.

Launchpad really shone in his one-page appearance (on the first page, in fact), eagerly, earnestly, and heedlessly doing what he can in hopes of coming to the aid of his "buddy". Oddly, faux-Launchpad in his later appearance was similarly likable... and DW accounting for how he souced out the imposter made for a particularly priceless particular line. (Not a typo -- I mean a particular line that's particularly priceless.) ;)

-- Ryan

New comic review: Darkwing Duck #1 (Joe Books, April 2016)

 As Joe Books' Darkwing Duck #2 is due out tomorrow, it's high time for this blog to honor and review #1, as it was in the truest sense, a glorious, triumphant return to comics for Darkwing Duck... and I can't overstate enough, a glorious, triumphant return to Darkwing Duck comics for the creative team of Aaron Sparrow and James Silvani. It's the latter two men, respectively, who in 2009 launched DW's last comics return, but due to subsequent unfortunate, er, managerial decisions, were not kept together for the duration of that run (at least officially... wink, wink...!) Now, however, ideal circumstances (as such they appear from this observer's distant coordinates) at a different (*coughvastlysuperiorcoughcough*) publisher have enabled the reunion of Aaron, James, and Darkwing & Co. And we, the fans/readers, are reaping the benefits (though maybe not as much as the creators, who get paid for being obsessed with this stuff!)

Given that fans have been awaiting this occasion for nearly five years (man,it's been already been that long? GTFO!), and moreover, given how long its creators have fought for the victory that is this comic's existence, the occasion is treated perfectly with the colorful, joyful, festive.. and inevitably calamitous opening scene portraying the "St. Canard Main Street Lit-Up Electrical Parade" (That's not just a classic but a classy Disney in-reference!) 

If you'll excuse  my presumptuousness, I believe that the the intent behind the parade scene is precisely as I've characterized it: to declare, "WOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!  Darkwing's BACK!!!!!!" in a blazing torrent of zany, over-the-top, slam-bang-zoom-smash action. My evidence? The only bearing that the parade and the destruction left in its wake on the plot that's underway by issue's end is the matter of how Megavolt gets from Point A to Point B... as if we really need a backstory for his or any super-villain's latest incarceration. However, if there's ever a third instance of a Darkwing Duck #1 in which an identity-withheld figure of intrigue abducts Megavolt, it will have officially become a tradition. ;) 

If you've ever been subjected to the decrees from on high as to how a screenplay (particularly, but other storytelling mediums are applicable) must be written, then you know that a writer shall never depict their character just hangin' 'round and chillin' like they would on any other ordinary day and move on to the next scene without a quantifiable change that advances the plot having taken place. If the  "parade disaster" opener loosely makes the grade, well, as  far as I can see, the "dinner at the Muddlefoots'" bit that follows eschews the so-called conventional wisdom of the gurus of pop culture formula. Nothing that transpires during it is of any trackable consequence on anything that happens afterwards -- it's just Drake reluctantly attending a cookout (and TV marathon) hosted by Herb Muddlefoot and squirming through it, as we'd expect him to. Oh, but that's what's so great about this scene. The characterizations and dialogue -- from Herb hilariously experiencing no cognitive whatsoever from his contention that the addition of tofu makes bacon and blue cheese "healthy"; to Gosalyn decidedly "cucking" Tank; to Tank slickly hustling cash out of Drake in exchange for his freedom by sabotaging by sabotaging Herb's TV satellite dish -- are not only spot-on, but delightfully original and exponentially amusing. It's like a jazz musician who will riffing comes up with a glorious melody that's completely and utterly new but yet rather than altering the song, reminds us what it sounds like.

Moreover, I'd argue that this sequence does serve a higher purpose. "The Duck Knight Returns" found circumstances in St. Canard having drastically, even antithetically, changed from those that we knew. The comic was never intended to be fan-fiction dwelling exclusively on intimacy between select characters, and therefore the heroes had to be the heroes and the villains had to be the villains, and so the status quo waos quickly restored... almost too quickly, as things remained so high-gear, several issues passed before it hit me, "W-w-w-wait, sso Drake and Gos DO still live in that same house? ...oh, you mean, Binky DIDN'T succumb to the temptations posited by some Fabio-like male model, leaving Herb, who was only saved by Quackwerks hiring him for, er, "TV viewer market research"? (Imagine Herb forcibly watching TV 24/7 Clockwork Orange-style but LOVING every second of it.) Ummm, hey, so we've been told that SHUSH is defunct, but have Sara Bellum's skills been co-opted by Quackwerks, or did the Crime-Bots execute her in cold blood based on algorithm determing her erratic, unpredictable, unreliable nature?" The Muddlefoots scene and certainly the subsequent satellite visit check-in with J. Gander and Gryzlikoff reaffirm that this is the Darkwing Duck universe we know and love from the show, and they have a grounding, reassuring effect that admittedly was somewhat missing last time 'round.

Back on Earth, we find Gosalyn off to school for the day, and what at first appears to be just some daily-mundane-suburban-routine stuff  within a couple panels is eclipsed by a vital piece of information that ("Finally!", I can hear Messrs. McKee and Ball harrumphing) gives way to the plot formally being continuously advanced. The insistent stream of jokes about the idiocy of hosting children as guests in an operational maximum-security prison and the steady flow of snarky asides (from Gosalyn) about this ironic scenario and Boober Fraggle-worthy fretting (from Honker) re: anticipating that "somethng BAD!!!" is about to happen reinforce that we're not merely being treated to a living museum tour of DW's rogues gallery, but that... well, that "something BAD!!!" is about to happen.

That something being Negaduck (newly-and-finely-filed teeth and all) springing his latest malevolent scheme to put his reviled cross-universe doppelganger through Hell and back infinite times over. Under the (non-)stewardship of the 2009-2011 publisher, Silvani's art at times felt somewhat constricted, as if he was up against unreasonable deadlines... and Aaron was exceptionally vocal in relating to the public how those enforced by that publisher (the name of which shall NOT be uttered within this realm) indeed were. And after Aaron was let go, the comic was depleted of humor (when originally, its humor had been in stylistic keeping with the TV show and surged with real lifeblood); grasp of characterization and dialogue became tenuous at best; and whoever's influence won out in terms of plot and story, their sensibilities were higher-level-aimed but too rigid and dry in operation.

And while the Definitely Dangerous collected, "remastered" volume by and large rectifies the 2010-2012 run, Joe Books' April 2016 Darkwing Duck #1 is the first time we're seeing -- no-holds-barred, unfettered, and un-fucked-with -- the Sparrow-Silvani team blasting full-bore out the gate with an original Darkwing Duck comic book issue that is fully developed and realized, brimming and bursting with razor-sharp wit and life-loving energy on each and every imperative count: story, art, characterization, and dialogue. These guys have wholly internalized he original series and now radiate it back at the universe hematically, stylistically, and spiritually. And as my default mode is to write about the writing, I'll take this opportunity to note that whereas later in the 2010-2012, Silvani presumably out of necessity was at times working in a stiffer, more utilitarian way than he'd probably like to, at Joe Books, his every page and panel is final draft/director's cut-level. Remember that two-page splash at the beginning of 2010's #1? Here, every panel has that kind of dynamics. And while, say, there were Disney Adventures artists of old who could certainly draw Disney Afternoon characters on model, Silvani not only has on-model in spades, but he's a virtuoso with anatomy, physicality, posing, and nuances in expression and countenance. In other words, the comic looks great. And it looks just like the TV show, too boot -- just look at the background/crowd characters/extras.

"Okay, soooooooooo... Negaduck shows up. And?" Well, yes, technically, all that happens is, indeed, Negaduck shows up, brawls some with DW, and then gloats, in so many words, "Oh, by the way, you're trapped, and things are about to get a lot less than pleasant for you." That's a pretty vague, non-committal cliffhanger, right? Ah, but this is a case of form over content. With every unbridled smash of a giant-sized mallet; wildly indiscriminate lashing and whipping about of a (fully powered and grinding away at full force) chainsaw; every vain, flamboyant flaunting his bristling bragging of the mirth, merriment, jubilation, and joy that he takes in misanthropy, malevolence, sadism, and savagery; and every sardonic, acerbic, contemptuous (but with relish) jibe at the expense of his "Regularverse" equivalent, this isn't some over-hyped, fan-ingratiating, obligatory "Negaduck  Returns, and with His Biggest Scheme Yet" affair. Rather, this IS Negaduck, period. The cliffhanger intrigues and entices despite that things are only just starting, as, frankly, not only are we still riding high on the sorely awaited reveal of Everyone's Favorite Villain that transpired a moment ago, but the stakes -- both physical and interpersonal/emotional -- have just been related so lucidly and resoundingly as to have fully substantiated themselves. In other words, we're sold.

Good thing #2 is out tomor-...today! :D ;)

P.S. I greatly appreciate the running joke incorporating Launchpad's DuckTales-based inclination toward "crashing", which I believe -- but I may be wrong -- was never in play or alluded to on Darkwing Duck.

-- Ryan

New comic review: Donald Duck #2 (#369) (IDW, June 2015)

As it turns out, my prediction that “Shellfish Motives” Part Two would open with Donald and the nephews “being captured and thus having to work together” was completely wrong. And I couldn’t be happier, as Scarpa’s well-constructed, relatively complex, quasi-satirical* mystery story, while retaining the cloak-and-dagger flavor of the first installment, is much better than the action-adventure (with emphasis on the action) fare that I had envisioned.

* (I say "quasi-satirical" because, as with the social aspects of "The Duckburg 100", "Shellfish" is rife with political and diplomatic trappings which are played in a comical, spoofy way, but I wouldn't say that anything in particular is being targeted. I suppose, though, that a treatise could be written on what the Gourmandian professor's "going off the grid" maneuver says about the use of new science as leverage in high-level warring corpora-government combine power plays.)

If I would object to anything (and this is a tentative, not full-fledged objection), it would be the characterization of Donald as COMPLETELY clueless and wrongheaded, and the nephews so ENTIRELY superior to him in every respect. I like that Scarpa plays up the nephews’ resourcefulness and sharp wits, and while in essence it’s not out of character (to say the least) for Donald to be overconfident in his abilities and proceed with a task wrongheadedly, as in “Duckburg 100”, Scarpa presents a dumbed-down, practically infantile Donald. That said, Donald's attempted interviews with the different scientists (whose reactions vary from put off and annoyed to obvlious to Donald's presence) -- a string of encounters that's juxtaposed against the nephews staying on the right track in THEIR investigation -- are endearingly fun and funny, sort of with an (especially silly) Looney Tunes blackout gag flavor. Still, with Donald taking up Gideon on his job offer at the story's beginning, I felt that Donald was stepping across the threshold on a Hero's Journey... and yet after all is said and done, it seems that we're supposed to take the idea of him ever being a successful investigative reporter as a joke. It's safe to say that this is decidedly NOT a "mastery story".

From the parachute left in the taxicab down through the parsing out of the address where they find the professor, Scarpa’s plotting of the mystery-unraveling is admirable in its logic and its gradual, suspense-sustaining pacing. From the clues dropped throughout the story, I imagine that very few readers would ever discern “the full story” before all is told at the end – certain points (like the fact that the professor probably isn’t really also a chef) were suspected as highly likely, but would anyone have ever guessed that the professor already had his own candy in his pockets of the same type he was buying in the store? While the facts of the case when explained in full at the end are straightforward enough, the complexity is in how Scarpa, at first keeping this scenario near-completely concealed from the reader, lays down the narrative scheme in which the nephews, piece by piece, solve the case.

I had hoped that if the mysterious figure in Part One was indeed Scrooge -- as there there were telltale signs that it was -- then it would turn out that once we knew the whole deal, we would understand how and why we had been misled to believe that he was up to some villainy... and to my satisfaction, such exoneration panned out 100%. Naturally, the “full disclosure”, as relayed by the nephews, includes exposing Scrooge’s role, bringing him “on-screen”. What ensues nicely ties in a theme established at the beginning of the story: the rift between Scrooge and Gideon due to their opposing values and ambitions. I expressed in my review of Part One that I thought the character of Gideon and his relationship to Scrooge were good ideas, and seeing the fireworks that erupt when they actually interact really brings it home. (A familial divide so good, it’s almost like having another Donald-Gladstone rivalry.) Jonathan Gray’s dialogue in this sequence, which plays up that they’re both McDucks and have some fundamental similarities, fine-tunes and sharpens the McDuckian purity of this visceral exchange.

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Closing out Donald #369 is a vintage treat, "Counter Spy", which at first glance, I figured was one of Al Taliaferro's gag-based "loose" continuities... but, nope, it was created exclusively for a 1947 Cheerios giveaway. Reformatted here for a standard-sized comic at three tiers per page, it comes out to (drumroll to build suspense) exactly 10 pages, a wildly appropriate number considering that the story consists of Donald waging suburban warfare against his next-door neighbor... in fact, against TWO next-door neighbors, the first of whom in fact is actually named (ahem) JONES, but unlike Barks' Jones, has a line in the sand for what he'll put up with and cares not to play into Donald's one-upmanship; the second of whom is eerily reminiscent of Barks' Herman the Hermit, and is just about as antisocial and curtly impolite, despite his actually bothering to take up residence in civilization.

Though the general proceedings and in particular the twist at the end that brings about Donald's comeuppance have Barksian shades, the crude characterization of Donald and the nephews (who seem to act pretty much as one here, which in itself is un-Barksian) -- first getting their jollies from harassing Taliaferro's "Jones", then invading his successor's life with their gossip-inclined nosiness and physical appearance-based suspiciousness -- aren't countered by any Barksian gravitas.

But let's take a step back. If how a non-Barksian Dell-era duck story measures up to Barks were the measure by which something's of interest or worthwhile, then virtually nothing would make the cut. On its own merits, this is a decently written and certainly well-drawn escapist, slapsticky funny animal comic quick read. So far, IDW's Disney comics have been dominated by European material. But turning a different leaf, this story's inclusion in Donald #369 follows in the tradition begun by Gladstone of select vintage/classic Golden Age/Dell-era American Disney comic reprints. Of course, Gladstone II gave us reprints of their own reprints of just a couple years earlier, as with "Back to the Klondike" and "Monarch of Medioka", amongst numerous examples, demonstrating what NOT to do. By contrast, this is the very first time "Counter Spy" has (at least per Inducks) has been reprinted in the U.S. since its original 1947 publication, exemplifying exactly what TO do.

-- Ryan

New comic review: Uncle Scrooge #3 (#407) (IDW, June 2015)

IDWs Marco Rota "A" cover for Uncle Scrooge #407, which originally graced an Italian 2008 reprint of the 1961 Romano Scarpa story that Scrooge #407 presents using Joe Torcivia's newly-Americanized title "The Duckburg 100":

In contrast with his other stories presented by IDW thus far, Scarpa's "The Duckburg 100" is a relatively humble, down-to-earth, domestic, Duckburg-based story. Almost a pure character piece, its lack of big set pieces shouldn't be mistaken for a lackluster read -- its execution is more complex than the premise might suggest. (The most "adventurous" thing that happens is a Beagle Boy robbery during which they accidentally kidnap Donald, and it's mostly played for laughs: the Beagles are just doing what they can't help themselves from doing, and Donald's stumbled into quite a jam, ho-ho!) While the hook -- the bank's contest -- is frankly dry, to the point that it can only be relayed via dialogue, the closest to a  visual representation being promotional posters that Scrooge is pleased to see as he nears the bank... really, just more text! In many modern duck and mouse comics, the MacGuffin is something visual and wacky, which can make a story seem contrived and gimmicky. "100"'s more conscientious (and real-world plausible) situational (rather than conceptual, i.e. gimmicky) premise triggers reactions and an ensuing series of event that make Duckburg more believable than usual. Of course, this illusion hinges upon Scarpa's grasp of these characters, which here is wildly apparent. The end result is a quasi-social satire that isn't acidic and vitriolic, but certainly acute.

It's completely logical and in-character for Scrooge to be anxious to the point of obsession, allowing Scarpa to show us -- and amuse us with -- Scrooge in one of his panicked, skittish, somewhat neurotic modes. But Scarpa's Scrooge, like Barks', has varied moods, and so once he's processed the situation, Scrooge quickly turns energized, driven, and determined in taking efforts to ensure that the three contestants each a prove winning bet (on his end of the deal, of course). To pull off such a drastic transition in temperament as part of staggering a character's reaction to a plot development, keeping the character so true to what makes him tick, is testimony to Scarpa's talent and intuition. And I've almost overlooked how at first, Scrooge was all in favor of the contest and personally commending the bank's manager, only freaking out when he realizes that he owns the bank -- a variation, I believe, of a gag I'm pretty sure Barks used at least once, here executed with a quick setup and then, bam, a blunt turned-on-its head reveal so stark in its irony and so precisely "acted" as to be worth of Laurel and Hardy.

While I would qualify "100" as a character-oriented story before I would a social satire I would say that there is an element of social satire at play. It's predominantly character-driven in that the entire premise is a juxtaposition of the frugal, disciplined, finance-literate Scrooge against three, count 'em, THREE foil types: Jubal, the con artist; the Beagle Boys, who are no-muss, base-level thieves; and Donald, who is (at least in this portrayal) a pure fool. The pop culture-infatuated, financially inept, adult responsibility-oblivious, completely infantile Donald in this story doesn't exactly contradict his general comic book characterization; these traits have been shown, but here, it's just that he's been so completely consumed by these tendencies. I suppose we can chalk it up his obsession with Captain Retro-Duck being a relatively new phenomenon. In other words, a case of, "Oh, it's just a phase -- he'll move on, eventually."

...oh, but I was trying to make a point about the satirical aspects of the story. Basically, Scrooge and his three foils each represent an archetypal human trait/tendency. And each is used to show how money, and moreover, the institution of banking, rules our material existence. Now, I'm not sure if any point is made about this societal situation, which is why ultimately, this is an exercise in showing how these characters each react to a given situation (Scrooge from a different perspective than the other three). But there's at least the framework of a social satire built in to the story.

There is, of course, Scarpa's stab at modern art... which is an easy target, admittedly, but when an actual artist curmudgeonly vents about it in his own work, it has a particularly relishable sting to it. (And evidently, Scarpa and Barks were fellow curmudgeons, sharing a similar view on this "medium"!)

Is there a moral? Since Donald in the end gets as a reward the very thing the very thing he wanted in the first place, perhaps the moral is, "It's okay to be a fool; just don't be a con man or a low-rent thief." How does Scrooge make out? With all of the angst and obsessive effort he goes through, you might think that there might be some ultimate message about Scrooge being too whatever... but in the end, he gets what he wants, too: he hasn't lost anything. Are Scarpa's sympathies actually with Scrooge? Is he actually endorsing Scrooge's ways? I'm not sure, but I wonder.

One of Scarpa's many clever accomplishments in his plotting is the way that each of the three contest participants' efforts "cross over" with and impact each other, leading to the outcome of the story. These scenarios are fully developed enough to not feel contrived; in fact, they play a major part in the story having a tone of tasteful and thoughtful whimsical farce. (However THAT is conceivable!) Jubal's storyline is actually phased out, wrapped up prematurely in dialogue between Scrooge and the bank manager -- during which Jubal is off-screen, and after which he remains so. But even that kind of just falls away in the flow of things. The only plot turn that I found abrupt was how easily and quickly things were wrapped up once the nephews got the info via walkie-talkie from Donald, hiding in the Beagles' midst. I expected Donald getting discovered and the Beagles getting the upper hand again, resulting in one last major obstacle to overcome. I commend Scarpa for using what at first seemed like a lark,  Donald's being enraptured by his new  toy, as an integral plot device, in the dramatic tension afforded by the nephews turning off the walkie-talkie Donald left at home and in how its ultimately the ironic means by which the day is saved. But once Donald finally gets through to the nephews, it's a matter of about three panels before the Beagles have been apprehended (off-screen!), Donald is rescued, and Scrooge has regained the contents of Jewel Vault #3. Nothing to it, easy as pie! Anticlimactic, yes, but at least not as ludicrous and un-sellable as the ending of "Gigabeagle". And not even half as abrupt.

Now, I could pick on Scarpa for the Beagles' giant suction hose thing being a shortcut intended to expedite the vault robbery scene, and for the awkward, clumsy design he came up with for it... but in the former respect, he actually made the right call, because the story beats felt just right. In fact, I'm surprised by now that I haven't brought up how it's easy to imagine this story's premise as a Barks or Barksian ten-pager.  Though it's longer, I guess between the pacing of 10 Barks pages with four tiers each and 33 Scarpa pages with three tiers each, things somehow more or less even out.

For his first turn at a lead story in an IDW Disney comic, Joe Torcivia's dialogue is actually less archaic than that of some of his other recent Americanized scripts... but that's not to say that it's ever dry or straightforward. Take page 8, panel 2: "Hey, you punks! I want my gold nibs!" "Oops! Old stealing habits die hard!" Straightforward in comparison to, say, the daunting alliteration that opened "Meteor Rights", but imagine what the panel in question could have been: "Hey! You stole my gold nib!" "Oh, sorry! We didn't know it was yours!" Or the last panel on the same page: "Gadzooks! The hundred's here! In one lump sum!" What if that had just been, "Wow! Just what I needed, a check for $100!" It really can be the little things that make one's reading experience with these considerably smarter than could easily be the case.

A significant but necessary amendment to the story that Torcivia has made is the entire "Captain Retro-Duck" angle. Until just now, when flipping to the relevant pages, I hadn't put together that there was no superhero or action TV star of any type shown on Donald's TV screen even once during the story. Thus, if I deduce correctly, Captain Retro-Duck, who is referenced in Torcivia's version of the voiceovers for the walkie-talkie promo spots Donald salivates over, was conceived to justify for contemporary American readers why in the age of Google and iPhones Donald or anyone would get so excited in the first place about a walkie-talkie set. It's not that Captain Retro-Duck is a retooling of the TV action star in the original version; there was no TV action star in the original version! In that case, when Donald wanders off from home lost in "playing" Captain Retro-Duck, does that mean in the original, he was just playing some sort of generic make-believe spy game? I can't help but think that his frivolities seem more justified in Torcivia's version. And the nods to TV/comic book/superhero/sci-fi etc. fandom that he worked in are an added bonus, as are all the punny variations of the prefix "retro". Exemplifying both, we have "Sinister storage tanks! Just like the dreaded Eviloid in Episode 213: 'Captain Retro-Duck and the Retro-gressive Gas!'"

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Scrooge #407 wraps up with a two-page Tony Strobl gag created for the Disney Studios program. In contrast with the nephews' chastisising and being considerably wiser than Donald in the lead story, here, they're shown as being completely on the same page and virtually standing as one with Donald against Scrooge. The gag boils down to Scrooge "programming" a parrot to say a series of things to "brainwash" his nephews, and in retaliation, they "reprogram" it to say the things that Scrooge decidedly doesn't want to hear. It reduces the characters to one-note roles... but that's sort of the nature of gag pieces. And as far as gags go, it's decently constructuted, as crass as it makes the characters seem. And I am glad that it's finally be printed in the States, for better or worse.

(Hmm, it just occurred to me... with Strobl, it's kind of as if the characters had been done by Hanna-Barbera. Or the Disney characters done by the artists who drew Western's Hanna-Barbera titles... one of whom I'm sure was Strobl. But he was also a product of his era. I can see some commonalities between him and even the original animation featuring the classic Disney cartoon characters produced for framing sequences of the Walt Disney Presents/Wonderful World of Disney episodes that were made up of select theatrical shorts. But I digress... )

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Though I definitely think of Marco Rota's "A" cover, above (at the start of this post), as the "definitive" cover of this issue (for its "classic" duck comic look), I couldn't help but also purchase a copy with James Silvani's "sub" cover variant. It hit me in a soft spot for evoking DuckTales (i.e. due to the dynamic of Scrooge and the nephews sans Donald, and how, rather than their shirts being "blacked in", the nephews are sporting their DT-canonized red, blue, and green shirts), and "Treasure of the Golden Suns" in particular. The Junior Woodchuck coonskins were prominent in that serial, which may have been the first time the nephews were seen wearing them in conjunction with their non-blacked-in, then-newly-canonized-color scheme-complying shirts. So the aesthetic of their being so attired has a distinctly DT air to it.

-- Ryan