Review: Transformers: Robots in Disguise #9 / X-Factor #243

Transformers: Robots in Disguise #9
John Barber/Andrew Griffith
IDW

John Barber's Robots in Disguise is an odd, inconsistent series that seems to find most of its focus in trying to mend the error-strewn history of IDW's previous Transformers series. Its premise is compelling: following the end of the civil war between two warring factions of alien robots, the interim government is concerned with rebuilding society, maintaining order and preventing various war criminals and ex-soldiers from carrying on their nefarious ways. They are beset by internal disagreements, with the chief of security (a former high-ranking tactician in one faction's army) intent on applying a kind of martial law. While he secretly employs an assassin to take out key trouble-makers, his allies struggle for democratic legitimacy.

But the story often seems simultaneously rushed and slow-moving; individual episodes are wrapped up hurriedly within the space of an issue, leaving dangling plot threads that are then only intermittently referenced. The over-arcing plot is glacial, and for something that seems, on paper, to have all the ingredients of a political thriller, it really doesn't read like one. All the action takes place in a single settlement of indeterminate size – the only one on a battle-scarred planet – and the cast of recurring faces is so small that the book feels more like a sort of frontier tale.

This issue is the second of Barber's first multi-parter. The focus is split between Bumblebee, the leader of the interim government, and events in the wilderness of their home planet, where an expedition has gone badly wrong. Little really happens to move the plot along. Bumblebee is convincingly troubled by various events, while Ironhide (the leader of the expedition) spends most of the issue fleeing attackers. There are two major twists, both of which are going to be largely lost on newer readers. For long-term Transformers fans, one has been heavily signposted and isn't much of a surprise at all. The other, typically of Barber, is a clever attempt to mend an apparent incongruity in the continuity that existed prior to his arrival, where one particular trio of characters turned up alive and well long after their apparent demise on an alien planet.

The dialogue is competent, but characters who really need to have it out in spectacular fashion spend all their time sniping at one another instead. One particular exchange – between Bumblebee and soldier-turned-barman Blurr – is notably enjoyable because Blurr expresses his dissatisfaction eloquently and clearly, and then thinks through his position carefully. This simply doesn't happen often enough in a series where everyone seems to have their own complicated (and deeply flawed) set of principles.

Griffith is improving as an artist with every issue, particularly in his depiction of certain characters. He seems to have full command of the complex designs of Wheeljack and Blurr, while his grasp of Bumblebee is frequently strong (the infamous 'Bumbletoad' only appears in one panel). His facial expressions are also more nuanced than ever, communicating the desired range of emotions – at least face-on. In profile, there are still issues.

There remain two major niggles I have with the artwork. Firstly, the designs of the characters seems to lean towards an extreme stout-leggedness that only works when they're standing still. The action panels look odd because the way you would run/jump/recoil with normal legs is not the same way you presumably would with ones that taper out to inflexible concrete feet, broader than your waist and as long as your forearm. This is almost lampshaded by the final splash page which, due to the slightly dodgy perspective, is about one third lower leg to two thirds six other characters.

Secondly, Griffiths has a way of depicting shearing/sheared metal that looks more like torn paper. In one panel, Ironhide blocks a blow from a massive energy sword with his arm. The sword seems to have cut easily through most of the limb, shredding the edges, but become lodged half way. It doesn't really convince as metal meets metal.

I remain hopeful that this series will edge towards greatness, but at the moment, the various minor problems do add up. Barber hits his stride when fixing other writers' mistakes, but struggles to retrain full control of his own story.

X-Factor #243
Peter David/Leonard Kirk
Marvel Comics

This is the third in David's 'Breaking Points' multi-parter – a sequence of essentially different stories loosely connected by the demise of the titular X-Factor, a mutant detective agency. With each issue, another member leaves or is taken out of commission. This time it's the turn of Polaris, who only joined the team about a dozen issues ago and hasn't spent much time in the spotlight.

It's fitting, given my above review, that David uses this issue to sort out continuity problems surrounding the character. In a way, it's an origins story, with Polaris finding out her own origins at the same time as us, through the means of another character's abilities to get a 'psychic read' from an object (in this case, an old photograph). As with Robots in Disguise, therefore, the major events of this issue will resonate rather less well with readers who aren't long-term fans of the franchise, which is a shame, because X-Factor has always been somewhat apart from other X-titles and is the only one that could conceivably sustain a separate readership of its own. The casual Marvel reader has simply had to shrug his or her shoulders as David has repeatedly made use of various cameos and guest appearances, largely for comic effect. Usually, it's worth sitting through these for the character-based interaction that David does so well, but there aren't many laughs in this issue.

I'm also a little uneasy with how the Madrox/Layla relationship is being over-egged in recent arcs. In this issue, Layla lies naked in bed with roses and burning candles all around her, waiting for Madrox to come to her room. Do women really lay this kind of thing on for the men in their lives? And why, when she realises he isn't coming, does she go out into the hall clad in just her bedsheets? You'd think she'd at least slip a dressing gown on. It's worth remember that this is a character who, until recently (and due to the usual time-related shennanigans in superhero books) was depicted as a child, physically if not emotionally, and David's insistence on emphasising her sexuality seems like something of a dare to the reader to be open-minded. It just doesn't fit in.

Kirk's artwork is serviceable but nothing more. Like so many Marvel artists, he has one standard male face and one female, with characters distinguished solely by their hair and costumes. It's awfully convenient for him that the remaining women in X-Factor have red, brunette, blonde and green hair respectively.