Fresh from their latest adventure, Ben Grimm and his companions Amaryllis and Bobby take an evening to themselves. The sudden arrival of the Champion, however, leads to an all-out brawl through (and under) the streets of New York…and raises more questions than are close to being answered. The Thing #3 Written by Walter Mosely, drawn by Tom Reilly, colored by Jordie Bellaire, and lettered by Joe Sabino.
I’ve talked a lot about how delighted this comic has made me. Heck, my review for #2 was practically all gush.
What I don’t think I’ve done enough of is talk about how uncomfortable this comic makes me, and there’s no better time to start. There’s a creeping discomfort in this comic that wants you to forget it’s there, like a heart that’s been ripped out, blackened, and shoved back into your chest to keep on beating. A paleness to the colors that you look past because the simplicity of heroic punch grabs the spotlight. There are things that don’t quite fit, and a loneliness that started this whole thing that gets buried under superheroic shenanigans. Here in #3, our beloved Ben Grimm gets a moment to breathe, and once your pulse has slowed down, everything you’ve buried starts crawling up from its grave, reminding you – something here is not quite right.
Linger on that first panel of Grimm’s fist breaking through pure white, harkening back to the cover of #1. The simple statement that fist makes. Its stony inevitability. A punch that’s less thrown than it is placed, as violence erupts around it. We’re coming back to that fist in a bit, so keep that panel in mind.
An Amaryllis By Any Other Name…
Ben Grimm his companions, Amaryllis and Bobby Spector, emerge from underneath Central Park after their adventures in #2. An adventure where the day may have been saved, but answers are few and far between, especially concerning the whys and hows of the death of two men. Ben’s brow is furrowed, his concerns turned inward, his general charm and clumsiness set aside for the deliberate movements of a man who can crush skulls in his fist but has people to protect. Something is troubling him, and now that he’s run out of people to punch he realizes he needs to buy himself a moment of peace. So when the cops show up en masse, there he is, using the Fantasticar to blind and blow them away as he and his companions make their escape. He needs a moment to process, a moment of peace…and the way Amaryllis is looking at him promises him peace, of a kind.
Let’s talk about Amaryllis for a bit. I can’t believe it took me until #3, but looking up her name led me to a few fun Easter Eggs. Her name means, in Ancient Greek, “to sparkle,” which, given the strange vial of light that’s at the center of things in this comic, is amusing. Amaryllis flowers are also often the same kind of orange as the dress she first appears in, and the flowers symbolize “pride, strength and determination” – all of which describe her well. Still, those are asides. What matters is that delightful “I like it rough” joke, somehow more sweet than suggestive, though it is both.
There is nothing quite like the supportive joy you feel when a character you love hooks up with another character who’s been nothing but awesome from the moment she’s appeared. The page has given her effortless confidence and grace, stylishness, and bravery. Both she and Ben seem to be swept up in a hero’s romance – that mix of tenderness and heady passion that comes with near Death experiences, old-fashioned gallantry, and decisive displays of strength. It’s moving fast – Amaryllis’ first “my love” sure popped up quick – and as a longtime comics reader I feel a certain unease when a romance appears to be going too well. Tragedy or betrayal is usually not too far behind. But I put that uneasiness aside for a cornball moment that gave me a whole new perspective on this romance, one that endeared me to it, strongly.
A little later in the issue, when Ben Grimm is being pounded into gravel by the Champion, she calls to him to get up. “Stand, my hero, stand!” she cries, in a book that’s pretty much stayed away from Silver Age dialogue like that. It almost took me out of the comic, but then I lingered for a bit on the panel above it. Grimm, broken, defeated, exhaustion and pain written clearly on his stony face, as a ludicrous orange and blue villain from across the stars stands triumphantly over him. There’s something a little bit sad, and a little bit silly, about the life of a superhero. Something that’s hard to see in the genres more typical bright colors, but one that shows a little more clearly in paler lights Jordie Bellaire colors this comic in, in the quiet tiredness Tom Reilly wrings out of the lines. The endless violence, the fools parading about in their bright colors, the petty grudges, and at the heart of it all, a man who won’t stop fighting no matter how badly he’s already been defeated. This is who Ben is. A man whose best and worst characteristic is that he never gives up. Amaryllis sees that and has nothing but love for him for it. What more could one hope for, from love?
It’s worth remembering, though, that this story is meant to fit within the canon. A canon in which Amaryllis is not seen from or heard from in all the Ben Grimm stories that have come after. It’s worth wondering whether tragedy or betrayal is not too far ahead. I’m…trying not to get too attached.
And We’ll Keep On Fighting, Till The End
Popping out of nowhere, the Champion is a man so obsessed with fighting he nearly destroyed the Earth for the utterly petty reason that its fighters were not up to his standards until Ben Grimm proved him wrong (thanks to Rob Secundus for directing me to Marvel Two-in-One Annual #7, where this happened). It’s worth noting that Ben Grimm didn’t exactly win that fight, either. He just fought, and fought, and fought, until he was laid low, unable to stand…and even then, he crawled, because the fight wasn’t over yet. And what a fight this is. New York is wrecked as the two brawl it out through buildings, through New York landmarks, and down into the subway. The sheer power Reily’s blurs put into Ben’s fists is awe-inspiring. Grimm’s final defeat in this bout as the Champion suplexes him dominates the page as the Champion turns the tables right at the end. It is power, it is force, it is strength in a way I don’t think any other superhero gets to have.
Think of that fist from earlier. Rubble might be flying out all around it, but the fist itself is still. Ben Grimm as a fighter is no Shang-Chi. No smooth fighting moves, no graceful strategy like Captain America, not even, when you get down to it, the raw, savage power of the Hulk. Even in blurred motion, there’s a stillness to Ben Grimm’s punches. The power, the pain, goes here, just so. Again, and again, and again, until the thing he’s punching falls down. Some fights are intricated dances, some are wild lashing out, but Ben places himself, places his fists, deliberately. Ben places his fists, and violence erupts around it, and hopefully, that’s enough. He rarely deals with the resultant rubble, the collateral damage…but when he gets a moment to breathe, it is clear that it weighs on him.
There is something sad, and silly, about the Champion too. Part of a collection of immortal beings who have decided the only way to endure immortality is to pour all their focus into one thing, and one thing only. The Champion fights, but a question from Bobby Spector (and hoo boy, we need to talk about that mysterious young boy with his unsettling cleverness and enigmatic references to his even more mysterious father) reveals how much the Champion is aware of the futility of it all. As Reed’s interrogation machine saps his strength, sap his energy, as psionics literally sap his will, the Champion speaks of the emptiness that changeless immortality brings. It’s haunting, and I may never look at one of the Elders of the Universe quite the same way again.
That Discomfort I’ve Been Putting Off
There are a lot of things that make me uncomfortable in this issue. The color choices Bellaire makes, subtle and ever-present. The unanswered questions we haven’t even begun to answer (seriously, what is *up* with Bobby Spector? Is Ben’s heart blackened or was that just a dream? Who is being protected and what does Mot have to do with it?). Not knowing which is worse – that Reed Richards has an interrogation (read: torture) room, or that Ben uses it without a second thought. The way Ben watches Amaryllis and Bobby on the Baxter Building’s security cameras like an absolute creep. The doom he senses is approaching (no, not that Doom) but can’t even begin to identify. The quietness of the evening. The loneliness of a man who is in over his head, who doesn’t understand why all this is happening, who has found romance, but not – at least, not yet – found connection.
There are moments in this series that are surreal and disconnected from everything else. The lack of clear answers to some pretty big questions, the bizarreness of some of its moments, the stony silences of our main character, and those bright flares of ghastly light. There are moments of this comic that feel like a fever dream, flitting in and out of an almost old-fashioned, highly charming classic superhero story. These are brilliant, deliberate choices Walter Mosley is making. The discomfort is getting harder and harder to ignore. And what scares me isn’t the ghastly death and decay that’s been the threat from page 1. It’s the fact that the more I read this comic, the more I care about its characters, the more I want them to be safe. But sooner or later, Ben’s going to have to save the day by placing his fist just so. Violence will erupt around it.
He’s not always the best at picking up the pieces.
