Welcome back! It’s been some time since I wrote and published the last review here. But with a new year among us, what better time but now to start things up again and review some stories which may – if we’re lucky – be half decent reads. Perhaps it is best to start with a good miniseries that not only erodes some terrible tales from my mind, but also treats them like bad dreams. Long ago back in the late 1980s, one of the many great titles that DC were publishing was Animal Man. Written perfectly by Grant Morrison, Animal Man was transformed from a wacky and two-dimensional silver age hero into a modern-day family man with all of his bizarre quirks and details still in place. Morrison wrote an interesting and unpredictable title that managed to be both hugely human and unique in its unusuality, often breaking the fourth wall and going down the odd dark route. Upon Morrison’s departure however, things became bleak. The title became more and more Vertigo as the 1990s progressed – Jamie Delano and similar writers not only failed to recapture the magic which Morrison had extracted, but they tampered with the character fundamentally and transformed it into something alien and unfamiliar. In short, Animal Man suffered a long death. With its cancellation in 1995, the Animal Man story appeared to end, and the mood created in 1988 was absent. But then, Animal Man was reborn into greatness once again by the unlikeliest of creators – Gerry Conway.
Why Conway? As a writer whose work in comics ranges back to the 1960s, his scripting of a 1980s/1990s comic in 2009 seems odd. Perhaps the answer to this question will become apparent in my review, but first things first, the Last Days of Animal Man was a six-issue miniseries published fourteen years after the original Animal Man title ended. Along with Conway’s writing, the art was provided by Chris Batista and Dave Meikis. Now, onto the story…
After reading the runs of Milligan, Veitch, Delano, and Prosser, Conway’s series begins with something of a surprise. Although set in the future, Animal Man looks exactly as he did in Grant Morrison’s run. Yep, Buddy Baker is not a giant bird or a lunatic with a goth haircut. He is good old Animal Man – none of the dreary events of Animal Man 27-89 seem to have survived. Already, I’m liking this one. The Last Days of Animal Man is set in 2024, quite a few years after the Morrison run’s conclusion. Set (as ever) in San Diego after decades of flooding and dam building to ensure civilisation doesn’t fall prey to the sea, an aged Animal Man fights against a villain known as Bloodrage, whose aim is to flood the city. Although older, Animal Man arrives quickly to the scene and fights the villain whose power is to essentially use the blood of his victims to power his strength. However, by the end of the first issue, the title of the miniseries is explained as Animal Man’s powers stop working very suddenly. Although they return and Animal Man manages to defeat Bloodrage and lock him in prison (albeit temporarily), this begins a deadly trend for the superhero. You see, Animal Man is connected to a mystical construct known as the M-Field. This basically allows him to tap into the energy and power of every animal on Earth and use their abilities to fight for justice. With age, these powers have been draining and Conway shows in the first issue just how unreliable Buddy Baker’s powers are. Conway delivers a fantastic cliff-hanger ending to the first issue as Animal Man fights Bloodbath in the air, only for the hero to lose his powers and plumet. This dramatic conclusion is then followed by another surprise as Buddy is rescued by a giant whale Green Lantern, who works out that Animal Man is losing his grip. From there, the plot becomes obvious. Conway presents Animal Man with a choice. Either he must try and remain Animal Man and regain his powers, or he must retire and live the rest of his life with his family.
Despite the story being split into six parts, Conway very much dedicates each of the issues – except the final one – to the five stages of grief. Therefore, the names are: Deny; Rage; Bargain, Despair; and finally Accept. Issue six adds its own little one with Live, but the power of the title and events conveyed in the story are still just as strong.
Conway makes this story great because – while there isn’t really a whole lot of plots until the final two issues – there is much drama, character, and interest to take in the personalities of the story. Unlike Delano’s pathetically dry efforts to make the Animal Man cast interesting, Conway not only revives their sweetness and realism that made them lovable in Morrison’s day, but he goes further. Everyone here is grown up and the relationships between all the characters are different. First of all, the relationship between Buddy and his wife Ellen is pretty similar, but their partnership deteriorates during the story as Buddy tries to work out his future throughout the story. The relationship he has with his two children is even more interesting. While young in the original series and inspired by their father in wholly different ways, Maxine and Cliff have grown up and go in different directions. Maxine is now a young woman who is enjoying her own life, and while she may like her father, she never forgets that he wasn’t around as much as he could have been in her childhood due to his heroic exploits. That distance makes for heart-breaking reading. Meanwhile, Cliff is working himself dog-tired in the law, determined in the same way that Buddy is – too much so.
Conway’s examination of these two characters in the story is crucially emotive. First of all, Buddy needs their help. After learning of his illness that Animal Man will soon be no more, he desperately tries to reclaim his declining powers by taking blood samples from his children. While both happily comply, there is much regret and sadness present. Maxine misses the father who wasn’t there in his childhood. Cliff was too inspired by Buddy and his absorbed himself too much and his own life is too restricted. The regret on all sides easily makes these two scenes the best in the Last Days of Animal Man. However, Buddy’s actions are all for nothing.
By issue three, a new villain emerges for Buddy to face. While Bloodrage is a very 1990s villain who, despite his threatening aura, fails to excite, a foe with a real backstory is introduced – enter Prismatik. The daughter of Mirror Master, the very same usual Flash villain who caused so much irritation for Buddy and his family in Animal Man (vol 1) 8, Prismatik has been scarred by her father and the way he treated her mother. Angry at them for both cruelty and weakness respectively, Prismatik has her own mirror-like powers (it’s all too confusing to really care about honestly) and she wants revenge on Animal Man. Despite its vagueness, I suppose there’s something to understand here. Regardless, she fights Buddy at the end of issue two, but the hero loses control and nearly kills her. However, he is stopped in a moment which raises both confusion and huge interest. Who stops Buddy Baker but the League, specifically not of Justice, but Titans. Yes, the League of Titans are the ones who dominate the future. This I really didn’t see coming. Consisting of Red Tornado, Superman, Starfire, Power Girl, Nightwing and the Flash (a different incarnation as ever), this team help Buddy on his quest to regain his powers throughout the third issue. But – as said earlier – this fails to work. At the end of issue three, Buddy’s efforts fail and there is no way he can recover his powers. With only days left to enjoy them, it seems like life as a hero is over. Were it to end there, it would be a meekly depressing conclusion – Buddy still has one last victory in him.
Before that however, we’re left with one of the few embarrassingly forced aspects in this story. Starfire emerges as the only supremely important character in the League of Titans. Why? Because years ago, Animal Man and Starfire were trapped in space and decided to have an affair. This feels like the closest thing to an injection of Delanoism into this miniseries. I get it – all characters have their flaws. The problem here isn’t so much that it strays away from the basic personalities of these characters. After all, there is always room for a degree of that. The problem here is that it adds little – if any – value to the story. It just makes for a bridge between the drama of Buddy’s illness and the tensity of the conclusion of the miniseries.
During the final issues, Prismatik and Bloodrage unite despite any lack of friendship of unification to take down not just Buddy, but the League of Titans. This ends up succeeding as Starfire is beaten by the villains and while Buddy attends to her wounds, Prismatik and Bloodrage take out the other heroes. With Starfire out of action, it’s down to Buddy to save a world where he is supposedly the only hero. Surely, this far in the future, there would be more heroes around? Either way, this is Buddy’s last victory as Animal Man. By cleverly tapping into the M-Field one last time to create a trap for Prismatik and Bloodrage, he is caught in the blast of his own actions and falls into a coma. The world is – conclusively and rather undramatically – saved. But temporarily, Buddy is stuck in a white void, seemingly in his own mind, where he meets those pesky and mysterious aliens who originally gave Animal Man his powers in the very first place. Throughout the whole run, the one question that Buddy has been asking himself is a simple one – why me? Why was a boring family man given these huge powers. Some like Delano cobbled together a religious-like origin story which sounded too grand for a man who could – if he wishes – harness the powers of a gnat. Others, like Tom Veitch, made it all too scientific. Here, Conway goes the classic route and writes Buddy as a man of events. It was all luck – whether good or bad doesn’t matter. Buddy was just there. I’ve always been one for calmer and more subdued origin stories and this certainly cuts the mustard. With that, Buddy wakes up and reconciles finally with his family. Animal Man is no more. Long live Buddy Baker. But the story leaves us with a final revelatory page that manages to be both happy and depressing. Enjoying the sunshine of 2024, Buddy Baker stands on a balcony opposite the two tall towers of the World Trade Centre, both as solid and empowering since their creation in 1973. So, this is an alternative universe? Buddy might be enjoying a life very different from the one who – after the Morrison run – went through the laborious and character-morphing tales of Veitch and Delano, but that latter Buddy is the real one? If so, why does Buddy Baker appear as his normal self in Morrison’s JLA run even as late as issues published in 2000, five years after the title ended? The chronology of Animal Man doesn’t try to make sense, but more to the point, it’s up to us perhaps how to understand whether this story is alternate history or mainstream. For me, I just want this one to be the real timeline, and it’s clear that Conway does too.
Conway captures the strength of the characters here near-flawlessly, and it’s certainly the greatest aspect of the story. The same cannot be said of the villains. Although more positive things can be said about Prismatik (although not much more), Bloodrage is just your average 1990s meat whacker of a villain and too naff to be regarded as threatening as he should be. Meanwhile, Prismatik may have some good qualities in terms of her origin, but she feels too bland and too angry for any deep character exploration to be had. They easily both qualify as the least memorable parts of the story. In terms of the main cast, Conway’s strength is that he understands that heroes need a life outside of their mainstream work. It was completely forgotten by post-Morrison writers that Buddy Baker enjoyed a job in the film business a as a stunt man. Overall, the story is all the better for being set back in San Diego with decent characters rather than a boggy field in Nebraska where all worship Buddy as a bird-like God, all bowing down to his presence nude.
While both the best and worst can come from the characters here, what judgement can be said of the plot? The fact that it isn’t too present can have good or bad effects on what the purpose of the story should be, but in my view, the lack of a dominating plot that deserves six issues is a plus. Like I said, this story should be about character, and while there are times where the plot could be expanded or more of substance could be written – especially during the midpoint of the story – there aren’t any major issues relating to the story anywhere in The Last Days of Animal Man.
Chris Batista and Dave Meikis are not two artists who I am hugely – if at all – familiar with. However, their work here might not be awesomely dramatic or memorable, but they are certainly reminiscent of the original artwork drawn up by Chaz Truog and Doug Hazlewood in the late-1980s. Their smooth and clean art is mixed with interesting storytelling and their style is much preferred to the horrid textures provided by artists for Animal Man during the 1990s. I tremble at the art of Steve Pugh.
VERDICT
Overall, why did Gerry Conway write The Last Days of Animal Man? Like many others, I believe he respected and liked the run written by Morrison and disapproved of the way that following writers altered too much with what made it great in the first place. His knack for understanding character shines brilliantly –he understands the characters, but he also adds content and events which both update their lives and respects Morrison’s work. While – in a very Gerry Conway way – the writer’s plot isn’t stunningly original and features two dull villains, drama and emotion fuels the miniseries and, by the end, you feel as if the main character has been given the send-off, he really deserves.
Next Review: Legends of the Dark Mite (Legends of the Dark Knight 38, Mitefall). Written by Alan Grant with art by Kevin O’Neill.
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