Cool comics I've been reading, September 2024

Did you know they make comic books that don't star Sonic the Hedgehog? Or even any of his friends? Shocking, I know! Did you also know that, instead of waiting for live action adaptations that mostly end up being mediocre, you can just go straight to the source and read random Marvel comic runs you've heard were really good? And that reading a Big Two comic without the full context for every single character and every single thing that's ever happened in that universe won't kill you? Who knew! Apparently I didn't know, because I've only finally started doing that this year.

Today, in what I'd like to become a semi-regular feature, I'm here to talk about some of those cool comics I've been reading lately to share my recommendations. I've got a mix of series from Marvel and other publishers, with giant robots, body horror, genre metacommentary, pontifications on human nature, and colorful sci-fi adventures abound.

Let's start with my personal favorite.

Daniel Warren Johnson's Transformers (2023 - ongoing, Image)

Yes, I've already gushed about this series repeatedly on multiple platforms, as have many other people. It's a big deal! It just won two Eisner Awards for Best Writer/Artist and Best Ongoing! For those less familiar with the industry, in the comic world that's basically like winning Best Picture and Best Director at the Oscars. Recently it's been the fifth best selling comic every month, outperforming literally the entirety of DC's output. But if this isn't already on your radar, it bears repeating how awesome DWJ's Transformers is.

While it has an ensemble cast with lots of love for bots like Cliffjumper, Arcee, Starscream, and Soundwave, as well as a compelling human cast, the series focuses primarily on the big man himself, Optimus Prime, and I couldn't think of a better introduction to the character. DWJ really zeroes in on his complexities. Optimus is both very alien, a giant metal life form stuck on a world that's not his own, and deeply human, a paternal figure who simply wants the best for those he loves. He wishes to resolve things peacefully if possible, but he'll also fight with every last ounce of strength he's got when he's pushed to do so—though it's always a struggle to not let the brutality of the war turn him into a monster. He's got a responsibility to save his home planet of Cybertron both from the tyrannical Decepticons and from a planet-wide energy shortage—but when the Decepticons enact their own schemes to restore Cybertron's reserves by draining Earth's resources and crushing anyone in their way, his desire to protect innocent life leads him to defending Earth, even if it's at the expense of Cybertron or his own life. If this gets him labeled a traitor to his kind, so be it.

This dichotomy between Optimus's inherent capability to do great harm and his desire to protect weaker organic life forms is perfectly summarized in the opening of issue #2, when we get what fans will know simply as "the deer scene."

This quickly spread on social media and became one of the most talked about Transformers comic scenes ever, and for good reason. It's just such a great moment, and such a great encapsulation of Optimus's softer side. After five Michael Bay movies where Optimus became defined almost exclusively by his ability to give grand speeches and rip Decepticons' faces off, this moment where Optimus mourns an innocent creature he accidentally killed and then bonds with Spike over the commonalities and differences between their two cultures feels like a revelation. And the IDW comics did many wonderful "all robots in space" type stories, but as a fresh start for the series introducing it to new audiences, it feels so important to nail that relationship between the bots and the humans like Johnson does here. DWJ just gets it, man.

There are so many great moments like this throughout the series, whether they're sweet or touching or funny or sad. A sick kid at a hospital asking to see Optimus turn into a truck, to which he kindly obliges. Nature-loving Autobot pacifist Beachcomber's first moments on Earth. Optimus empathizing with a severely damaged friend who's now permanently stuck in vehicle mode and laments no longer being able to see the stars. And DWJ's art style breathes so much life into these scenes. (As does Jorge Corona's similar style in the second arc, after Johnson steps back from pulling double duty as writer and artist.) Where IDW's Transformers comics often favored clean lines and draftsman-like mechanical detailing, DWJ takes the simplified designs of the G1 cartoon and applies this rough and loose style influenced by the look of the Mobile Suit Gundam: The Origin manga. The bots just feel so alive. There's this physicality to the slightly uneven inks and the little dents and scratches all over the place. You can feel the motion of his pens just by looking at it. And the colors by Mike Spicer and letters by Rus Wooton, both frequent collaborators of Johnson's, really bring it all together.

It's not just these dramatic scenes where the series shines, though. Like I said, Optimus is a reluctant fighter, but he's still capable of beating untold amounts of ass if it's to protect innocents. And boy howdy, does this series have some of the coolest action ever seen in a Transformers comic, thanks in no small part to DWJ's love of making every comic book character he touches do wrestling moves.

Like. Optimus does a suplex on Starscream in the very first issue. And it's the best thing ever.

The ENERGY this has! The motion! The giant BOOM! The sense of weight and scale the bots have next to the humans, which makes them feel all the more dangerous! Somehow every single issue manages to have awesome fights with energy like this.

For another example, let's look at Optimus ramming into Skywarp in truck mode when he attacks Spike's hometown.

Shortly after this, when Spike is hurt in the fight and Optimus's right arm becomes too badly damaged to use, we get THIS two-page spread.

Yes, Optimus rips off his own damaged arm and proceeds to use it as a blunt melee weapon against Skywarp as a last ditch effort to save the nearby humans. This really just sums it all up. The incredible action artwork. Optimus's desire to protect these humans he just met at all costs, even at his own expense. Every fight in this series is so pumped up, and it always feels like this desperate struggle thanks to the fact that this is very much a series where anyone can die. I don't think Johnson overdoes it, but it's just enough to keep the tension up and make it feel like there are very real stakes. Like yeah, of course Optimus is gonna go apeshit sometimes! He doesn't want any more of his friends or more innocent bystanders to get wasted by the Decepticons! He's constantly being pushed to his limits, only to feel guilty about it afterwards. Optimus needs a hug.

I've mostly focused on the initial arc here, but all twelve issues that are out right now are killer, and the end of the second arc with issue #12 does a lot to solidify the central themes of the series and Optimus's arc as a character. (I won't spoil it, but maybe I'll go more in-depth on the spoilers in the future.) Yes, on the surface, it looks like a retelling of the 1984 cartoon with more death and violence, but it's so much more than that. It has so much heart and soul, remixing those familiar story beats into something new, something with so much more nuance and pathos and poignancy than a toy commercial cartoon from the Reagan era could've ever dreamed of. It's familiar but fresh, a mature new take on the original cartoon that doesn't sacrifice what was so fun about the series. Anyone with even the slightest interest in the franchise should be reading this series, period. It's the new perfect introduction to Transformers.

Really, the only mark against it right now, in my book, is that it has to be part of a new shared universe at Skybound, dubbed the "Energon Universe," along with a decent but not amazing new sci-fi series titled Void Rivals by The Walking Dead and Invincible creator Robert Kirkman and some scattered G.I. Joe comics. Thankfully, though, that baggage has yet to really impact Johnson's book. Right now, while some bots appear in the other titles, you can just Transformers on its own (and maybe also the Energon Universe 2024 Special) and understand the story told there just fine. Hopefully that continues to be the case for the remainder of Johnson's currently planned 24-issue run on the series.

Man, am I gonna miss DWJ when he leaves the series. But I'll be sure to keep an eye on his work elsewhere, as he's quickly become one of my favorite comic creators ever since Transformers put him on my radar. Last year I read his wrestling miniseries Do a Powerbomb!, which was fantastic. And this month, I decided to check out...

Daniel Warren Johnson's Beta Ray Bill (2021, Marvel)

Much of what I love about DWJ's Transformers applies to his other work as well, even sharing the same colorist and letterer, so I won't repeat myself too much here. The art is great. The characters are written with a lot of pathos. The big cool spaceships have a ton of awesome greebly detailing, drawing inspiration from a lot of old school anime. Multiple fight scenes feature suplexes. It's great.

Look at this jet-powered axe throw!

"So beautiful" indeed, Skurge.

Beyond that, this is just a really fun little introduction to the character of Beta Ray Bill, the first Marvel character other than Thor who was ever deemed worthy to wield Mjolnir. He's a lovable hero with an outwardly monstrous appearance he struggles to accept, and that's always something I'm a sucker for. He spends these five issues going on a little space odyssey on his cool ship, allowing Johnson to lean heavily into the science fantasy side of Marvel, and also recalling key moments of his backstory so that you get his emotional journey. It's just a good time all around, whether or not you know the character.

The Unbelievable Gwenpool (2016 - 2018, Marvel)

Yes, okay, fine, I'll say it. I read this so that I would have context for the skin I unlocked in Fortnite. I'm brave enough to admit that. But I'd been meaning to read Gwenpool for years, since I'd heard it was good, and that was as good a cue as any to start.

The Unbelievable Gwenpool, written by Christopher Hastings (author of the classic webcomic The Adventures of Dr. McNinja), tells the story of Gwendolyn "Gwen" Poole, a normal girl in her late teens who gets isekai'd into the Marvel universe. The thing is, Gwen's "superpower," as it were, is that she's a fan of Marvel comics. When she arrives in Earth-616, she immediately surmises that she must be in a comic book, and so she gets herself a costume so that she can become an important character in the narrative and avoid becoming collateral damage in a superhero fight. And because the seamstress who makes her costume misreads her name as "Gwenpool," she ends up getting a costume based on Deadpool's by complete coincidence. And thus, Marvel's latest masked hero is born.

Now, Deadpool is very hit or miss for me. He really depends on the writer. Sometimes he's genuinely funny, but other times his fourth wall-breaking meta humor can devolve into "Haha, get it? I'm in a tropey story that kinda sucks, and I point that out to the audience!" Unbelievable Gwenpool could have very easily fallen into the latter category. It's also an isekai series, and lord knows self-aware genre parody isekai anime are a dime a dozen these days. But this series goes some very interesting places with it.

Initially, Gwen comes into the Marvel universe as a violent, nihilistic antihero. She's not a sadist or anything, but none of this is real to her. It's a Marvel comic! None of it matters, right? Any important characters who die will just get brought back to life. Anyone else caught in the crossfire was just an irrelevant background character. And even without any powers, Gwen can't die because she's made herself the protagonist of her own series. You can't off the main character!

And the series does have a lot of fun with this premise. Gwen leverages the fact that she knows everyone's secret identities. The fact that she doesn't have a valid social security number for Earth-616 becomes a genuine problem for her. She asks a character their name to ensure that they'll be upgraded from an extra to a supporting cast member so that they can meet again. It's a funny and clever little series! And even beyond the meta humor, it's just got a funny cast of weirdos like MODOK and Batroc the Leaper surrounding Gwen so that it's not just an otherwise bog standard story that just so happens to have a zany main character. (This is often my complaint with Deadpool stories.)

As it continues, though, Gwen's ability to break the fourth wall morphs into more of an actual superpower, and the series begins to reach Homestuck levels of meta in its back half. I won't spoil everything that happens, because that's half the fun of reading it, but... well, as a small taste of what I'm talking about, there's a lot of stuff like this:

Yeah, this is barely even the tip of the iceberg. It goes some places.

While there's a lot of fun to be had with the meta humor and the fourth wall powers, though, that's not what really makes this something special to me. It's when the series gets sincere. As she spends more time in this world, Gwen starts to get more emotionally attached to her ragtag supporting cast, and the thesis of the series becomes a message about searching for meaning in superhero comic books where creative teams change all the time and the status quo reigns supreme. What happens when a different writer gets ahold of her friends and they start to feel like completely different people? What happens when her reformed bad guy pal gets turned evil again by a writer who prefers his older stories over his appearance in Unbelievable Gwenpool? What happens to Gwen herself? Well, in comics, just like in life, nothing lasts forever. She's just got to cherish the present and the good times that we've had along the way.

This feels especially appropriate for a series released in the height of Marvel's "All-New, All-Different" era, when new characters were taking up the mantles of classic heroes left and right—and it feels like Gwen meets damn near all of them. Sure enough, half of those changes reflected in Gwen's series have since been undone. Jane is no longer the main Thor. Doctor Doom is no longer trying to be a good guy, nor is he the "Infamous Iron Man." But if any of those stories released in that era meant something to you, then you'll always have that, regardless of what the future holds.

The only real complaint I have about Unbelievable Gwenpool is that the art is really inconsistent from artist to artist, but it's certainly not the worst art inconsistency I've ever seen, and it looks really nice when Japanese art duo Gurihiru are at the helm with their manga-influenced style. Overall, it's a fun read that's an easy recommendation for people into very meta stories about the mediums they're told in.

Eight Billion Genies (2022, Image)

Between when it was released and when I actually got around to reading it, Eight Billion Genies by writer Charles Soule has already been picked up by Amazon for a live action film adaptation produced by Seth Rogen. But you shouldn't wait around for that. You should just go read the comic. Because it's really cool.

The premise of this series is simple. When Earth's human population hits eight billion, everyone gets their own personal genie to grant them one wish. And then all hell breaks loose as people start bringing their wildest fantasies to life, all at the same time. Each issue covers a longer and longer span of time after wishes start getting granted: the first eight minutes, the first eight hours, and so on and so forth, until the final issue covers the remainder of the first eight centuries. Our main characters are the people who happened to be in a small bar outside of Detroit when the genies appeared. The bartender immediately wishes that nobody else's wish can affect the bar or anything inside it, making it a safe haven where our protagonists can bunker down while they figure things out and allowing the series to balance its fantastical wish shenanigans with grounded human drama.

It's not a 1:1 match by any means, but as we get further into the future of that new post-genie society the series starts to remind me a little of 17776 by Jon Bois. Just a bit. The way we explore human nature via this future world where exactly one impossible change suddenly happened to everyone on Earth. The way that impossible new speculative fiction reality is explored via a set of characters who feel very real and grounded, reveling in both the fantastical and the mundane. This is a very good thing.

And, honestly, I don't want to say anything else about the series to spoil anything! Go read it if it sounds interesting to you. It's only eight issues long.

The Immortal Hulk (2018 - 2021, Marvel)

The Hulk's never quite been one of my absolute favorite superheroes, but this was one of the most widely acclaimed Marvel comics of the last decade, so I knew I had to check it out eventually. And, yes, everyone was right about this one. It's great.

The initial pitch is simple: take the Hulk back to his horror roots. It's very much a Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde situation here, with the "Devil Hulk" persona (who speaks in full sentences) coming out at night as the mild-mannered Bruce Banner's violent, cruel, vindictive side. Several early issues are effectively little horror stories where Hulk is the monster, enacting vigilante punishments on various wrongdoers, particularly people who misuse the Gamma Radiation that gave him his powers.

As the title suggests, Bruce is also completely unkillable. Shoot him in the head and he'll just reanimate as the Hulk that night. Try to kill the Hulk and he'll get right back up. He literally gets chopped up into dozens of pieces at one point, and the pieces just fuse back together. Even Bruce's transformations into the Hulk are grizzly here; heads and limbs popping out of places where they shouldn't, flesh and muscles melting and reforming into a new shape. It's wild.

But why is Hulk immortal, though? Well, that's where this series gets less simple, and also where I start to completely fall in love with it. I'm gonna spoil an early twist here, but frankly it's integral to my pitch for why the series is so goddamn cool.

See, the big retcon writer Al Ewing makes here is to the Gamma Radiation that gave Bruce his powers. Gamma blasts don't just mutate people, per se... they send them through a portal to Hell.

Specifically, they go to an apocalyptic landscape called "the Below Place," which is the deepest part of Hell and the lowest layer of Marvel's reality. But then they can travel back to the living world through the mysterious "Green Door," though in the process they forget their experiences in Hell. This is why Bruce and those like him keep dying and returning to life. It's not just comic books being comic books, it's the nature of their unholy powers. And lurking deep down in the bowels of Hell is the unfathomably powerful cosmic entity that's the true source of the Hulk's powers. Bruce has become the avatar of this being's bottomless rage, and as such he's seemingly destined to destroy the Earth, and eventually the entire universe.

From here, Immortal Hulk proceeds to take the premise in a million different crazy places over the course of its 50 issues, including but not limited to:

• Body snatching with other Gamma-infused characters using the Green Door to reincarnate in other Gamma peoples' bodies
• Anarcho-socialist Bruce Banner pitted against the Roxxon corporation, becoming a symbol of the peoples' righteous anger
• Dante's Inferno allusions, and many other literary references
• The freakiest-looking version of Abomination ever
• An empathetic look at Bruce's traumatic past which very explicitly frames his various Hulk personas as headmates in a DID system
• A mind-altering alien cyborg who says "I'm vewy hungwy"
• The single greatest panel of The Thing ever produced by Marvel Comics
• A transgender mad scientist
• A hot harpy monster woman
• Also, Alpha Flight is here, those crazy Canadians

It's just a great series. It's incredible that Ewing is able to take things in so many directions while still making it all feel like a cohesive, layered, and nuanced story. Admittedly, it's not quite able to give every single one of these elements closure since it's, y'know, a Marvel comic—this is but one chapter in an endlessly expanding universe, and Ewing has to leave things in a state so that someone else can pick up with their own Hulk run after, rather than giving his story a real conclusion. But damn is it a great ride. Its widespread acclaim is extremely justified. And it's an easy series to get into for new readers, too. Despite how heavily it draws on continuity, Ewing recaps relevant past events and reintroduces old supporting characters so that you'll get the dramatic weight of these callbacks even if this is your first ever Hulk comic. I can't recommend it highly enough for anyone who thinks this sounds interesting.

...The only catch, of course, is that primary penciler Joe Bennett ended up being a right wing shithead, as the world found out after the series had concluded. Unfortunately, that's comics for you. (Steve Ditko, Frank Miller, John Byrne, the list goes on and on.) But thankfully, Marvel promptly dropped Bennett's ass, while Al Ewing is still happily employed and pushing thought-provoking progressive themes in his comics as hard as he can.

Which brings us to our next series!

The Immortal Thor (2023 - ongoing, Marvel)

This didn't quite immediately grab me like Immortal Hulk did, but I think the body and cosmic horror shit in that series just really spoke to the part of me that's crazy about Chainsaw Man. But Immortal Thor is absolutely worth your time as well, and I'm excited to see where Ewing takes it as it continues.

This take on Thor leans very heavily into the mythical nature of the character, setting him apart from other superheroes. Lots of fairy tale logic and riddles and feats of strength and giants and sinister elder gods and tales told ‘round the campfire and whatnot. Perhaps the most interesting element of this is Loki (who's genderfluid in the comics these days). Their role is that of the Skald, and a necessary evil in Thor's life. They're basically Thor's lorekeeper, and as a literal god who becomes more powerful when he's worshipped Thor's tale is integral to his power. But every epic tale needs obstacles for its hero to overcome, and Loki gladly offers up trials to teach Thor various lessons and test his strength. Thor bickers with his sibling, who's catty and devious as usual, but he also knows that they're a necessary presence in his life. There's this odd familial trust between them, where even when Loki is playing the villain and pissing Thor off he knows deep down it's out of love. It's a very interesting relationship.

Of course, on the complete opposite end of the spectrum from all of the mythical stuff, you've got maybe the most talked about story arc from the series so far: Roxxon Presents: Thor, which builds thematically on Ewing's Roxxon storyline from Immortal Hulk. Here, Roxxon undermines Thor's power by creating their own shitty, corporate version of Thor, diluting his myth.

There's a whole one-shot comic of this shitty capitalist Thor actually, and y'all. It's so goddamn funny. It's also so incredibly funny that they got Greg Land of all people to draw this.

...Except then, after lulling you into a false sense of security, thinking this is just a funny intentionally bad comic, Roxxon CEO and literal minotaur Dario Agger (whose face has kinda melted off since Immortal Hulk, don't worry about it) interjects to spell out his true intentions with this:

Yes, this is basically the Disco Elysium "capital has the ability to subsume all critiques into itself" scene, in a Marvel comic. Ewing is fully aware of the inherent contradiction of his push to include overt anticapitalist commentary in a comic sold by Disney and is making that a part of the story. This feels particularly relevant in a year when a new Deadpool movie made a bajillion dollars, and also when they've got the Deadpool actor at Disneyland cracking jokes about the whole Disney+ wrongful death lawsuit ordeal and being like "haha, gotta read those terms of service, huh?" Regardless of the specific intended target of the satire here, Ewing is spelling out a rhetorical trick his employers literally use so you can hopefully see through it, even though in the process he's literally taking part in the very thing he's criticizing. It just keeps going in circles!!!

Anyway so then back in the real world the shitty comic diluting Thor's myth means he gets this horrible brain fog that forces him to only speak in cliché movie one-liners.

I love you, Al Ewing.

Now let's take a brief break from Marvel with some more giant robots.

Dawnrunner (2024, Dark Horse)

Dawnrunner is set in a future world where an apocalyptic monster invasion has led to the creation of giant robots that can fight back and protect humanity. That probably sounds familiar. What sets this miniseries apart from things like Evangelion or Pacific Rim, though, is the mechs' place in society. Here, the deadly battles between the "Iron Kings" and the invasive "Tetza" are treated as a heavily commercialized sport, where the pilots are celebrity athletes competing for the glory of having the highest kill count. The profits from all this have allowed the companies behind the Iron Kings to effectively rule the world, replacing the national governments of the old world. Artist Evan Cagle has described it as "What if the military-industrial complex acted more like Bandai?"

Really, though, the star of the show here is the art. Cagle's delicate, detailed linework is given moody flat colors by Dave Stewart that are shaded with heavy use of screentones. Every page is a treat, whether it's a basic dialogue scene with star pilot Anita Marr, a shot of a futuristic city, or mech-on-kaiju violence.

Unfortunately, Dawnrunner has to be my most lukewarm recommendation on this list, as five issues just isn't nearly enough time for it to explore even half of the ideas it brings up. The stuff about the hyper-capitalist nature of this society basically goes nowhere, largely sidelined by a central mystery about the titular mech which I didn't think ended up being very interesting, and the ending is so rushed that it straight up just has to explain what happened via a huge narration box placed over the closing shot of the Dawnrunner. It feels like a short-lived Shonen Jump manga that got canceled and had to figure out an ending as quickly as possible, except as far as I know this was always planned to only be a five-issue miniseries. It just bit off more than it could chew, I suppose. As much as I love the art style, the fight scenes are also often difficult to follow due to the complex designs of the mecha and kaiju.

But still, it's at least worth checking out for the pretty drawings and cool vibes, even if I wish the narrative felt more substantial.

And last but not least...

Ryan North's Fantastic Four (2022 - ongoing, Marvel)

By far my favorite Marvel comic I'm reading these days is the currently ongoing Fantastic Four series by Ryan North. You may know North as the writer of the long-running webcomic Dinosaur Comics, Marvel's beloved Unbeatable Squirrel Girl, the first few years of the Adventure Time comics before Christopher Hastings took over (hey wait, that's the Gwenpool guy!!), or a Twitter thread in which he livetweeted being stuck in a hole. If you're familiar with any of those things, it probably won't be surprising how great these comics are.

Ryan North brings something very important to the table here: being a huge nerd. Not just a comic book nerd, but a science nerd. Actual science, like from real life! This makes him a perfect fit for a team who are frequently depicted more as scientific adventurers who just so happen to fight supervillains sometimes, as opposed to crime-fighting superheroes.

Damn near every issue of the series finds some excuse for North to explain some scientific concept he finds interesting, whether it's a minor bit of trivia that casually comes up in the dialogue or the focal point of a central scientific mystery the Fantastic Four are investigating. One plot revolves around the hypothetically possible "mirror life forms," organisms whose molecular building blocks are flipped, and potential side effects of suddenly introducing that to Earth's ecosystem. One plot is built around the "China brain" thought experiment, in which billions of peoples' phones are treated like neurons in a brain. One issue finds the Thing (and the Fantastic Four's entire house) falling down a seemingly bottomless pit, and he uses his knowledge as a test pilot to put together a makeshift Pitot tube to check his airspeed. Even a slice-of-life issue in which Ben and Johnny have to get day jobs features a scene about grain dust explosions. Or how about this personal favorite of mine, in which the team talks about scutoids:

Between this series, Dr. Stone, and JoJo's Bizarre Adventure, I'm starting to believe that comics are at their best when they're just an excuse for the creator to info dump about some random scientific or historical Wikipedia dive they went on.

And we get to cover a lot of different scientific ideas like this in the series thanks to its extremely episodic nature. There are some overarching plot threads tying everything together, sure, but as of issue #25 every story so far has only lasted one or two issues. And that's a good thing! Many comics these days are extremely decompressed, or "written for the trade." And this often works out, but it can also leave some issues feeling uneventful month to month. So it's nice to have a series like this where most months you're getting a complete story with a beginning, middle, and end. Rather than cooping the team up in the ivory tower that is the Baxter Building, many of these stories are Twilight Zone-esque mysteries where the Fantastic Four stumble upon a small town where some weird shit is happening, they use their scientific knowledge to deduce what's going on, and then they have to figure out how to use their powers to solve the problem. And sometimes said problem is caused by a supervillain, sure. Dr. Doom is an obligatory inclusion, and he's great when he shows up here. (The way he's introduced is just... incredible.) But just as often you don't even need the team to fight a villain for the issue to feel satisfying.

But while I love all this nerd shit, it's not just about the nerd shit. Ryan North has a phenomenal grasp on these characters, and he makes them incredibly well-rounded and likable right from the jump.

Ben is the lovable grump we know and love, but North is also sure to bring out his intelligent side as well, rather than just using him as the team's bruiser. Just because he's no Mr. Fantastic doesn't mean the Thing doesn't have a good head on his shoulders. His wife Alicia, the blind sculptor, is also a main character in this series, being treated as the honorary fifth member of the team, and I love that. Her perspective on art and creative thinking are juxtaposed really well against Reed's strictly logical way of looking at things. He can still be a bit detached here, making decisions for everyone without consulting them, but this is very much a compassionate Reed who's trying his best to learn from his past mistakes and do better moving forward out of a love for his family. Sue is the anchor of the team and the only one anywhere close to Reed's intellect, but she's also by far the strongest member of the team as a superhero, able to do some absurd things with the level of control she has over her force fields. And we even finally learn what field Sue got her doctorate in, and that expertise comes into play in some of the stories! And, of course, there's Johnny, who's decided to grow a horseshoe mustache like Hulk Hogan in this series—initially as part of his brilliant new civilian disguise, "Jonathan Fairweather," though even after he gives up on this he decides to keep it. Johnny's a lovable goofball in this one, often evoking T-Rex's inane musings from Dinosaur Comics, but he's also written with a lot of heart to prevent him from being a total comic relief character.

He even gets to fall in love with an alien!

This is the best issue to date.

It's all just so much fun to read, no matter what North is going for in any given issue. There's also just so much weird and funny shit in here. There's an issue where they travel to a universe where all of the Marvel characters are dinosaurs, because of course there is. There's a film noir detective story. There's a pair of issues tying in with this summer's big vampire crossover event in which Reed has to figure out a way to deal with the vampires using the scientific method, while also adamantly refusing to accept that vampires are real, because that would be magic and he still doesn't believe in magic.

Also I swear to god North has a quota where every issue he has to make Reed do some freak shit with his stretchy powers, and it's funny every single time. He and his accompanying artists keep finding new and increasingly upsetting ways for Reed to stretch out his eyes to look at things.

I just love these comics so much. This, Sonic, and Transformers are my favorite things I read every month. I liked the Fantastic Four as a kid, but they were never one of my favorite teams. But these comics have made them skyrocket up to the top tier of superheroes for me. I love these goobers so much. I'm currently reading Mark Waid's run on the series from the '00s, and I plan on reading everything else that followed it up through Jonathan Hickman's run, since I like what Hickman is doing with the new Ultimate Universe these days.

Unfortunately, caring about the Fantastic Four now means I'm emotionally invested in Marvel Studios getting their shit together after years of mediocrity and making the first ever good Fantastic Four movie. Pray for me.

Man, I gotta read Squirrel Girl... Next time I get around to making one of these posts, assume that will be on the list. And please feel free to share your own recommendations in the comments below!