Is there life after death? Bonnie Black discovers that the answer is yes – and it’s an afterlife littered with demons, dragons, barbarians, sorcerers, orcs, samurais, aliens, faeries, flying elephants, mythical creatures; in other words, a smorgasbord of genre clichés! But the lazy writing doesn’t stop there: Bonnie is The One that The Prophecy foretold would save everyone from The Evil One. Oh, so original!
Reborn is Mark Millar’s latest half-assed movie storyboard that’s as unimaginative, derivative, dull, and contrived as most of the books he’s churned out over the last ten years. Every important character is conveniently connected to Bonnie in some way, the villain is your generic devil-looking dude who, of course, literally bathes in the blood of the innocent because that’s the kind of shit the bad guy would do, and Bonnie going from a desiccated old woman in our world to a smoking-hawt 25 year old in the afterlife is completely arbitrary.
Why is her childhood dog suddenly giant-sized and looking like He-Man’s Battle Cat? Eh - because. That’s the overly simplistic level we’re at on this one. And I’m not sure if it’s meant to be funny but one of the villain’s henchmen being Bonnie’s childhood cat who wants to kill her for castrating him made me laugh for being so lame.
Batman artist Greg Capullo is the only reason I picked this up and his artwork has never looked better. The sheer number of character designs is a remarkable accomplishment in itself but numerous pages are absolutely stunning in their craftsmanship and vision. The story incorporating smooshed-together pieces taken from Alice in Wonderland, Star Wars, Tolkien and CS Lewis (among others) might be a mess to read but it allows Capullo to showcase his range and talent, so there’s that at least.
But between the cheaply sentimental flashbacks from Bonnie’s real life and the dumb archetype quest plot, I wasn’t the least bit engaged with this brainless garbage. Reborn might be worth flicking through if you’re a Greg Capullo fan but spare your mind Millar’s inane writing. And now Millar’s sold his Millarworld imprint to Netflix, soon there’s going to be even more flaming trash-heaps to avoid on that service in between Amy Schumer’s painfully unfunny “comedy” and Adam Sandler’s latest bowel movements. Why…
No comments:
Post a Comment