The FBI finally discovers the mutant child from the Oklahoma incident and the safehouse Storm sheltered the child in. Storm must protect this child, but there is one problem: The last time Storm was in close proximity to the child, she died a horrible death. Also, cosmic stuff happens. And Bishop is here! Storm #10 is written by Murewa Ayodele, drawn by Lucas Werneck, colored by Alex Guimaraes and lettered by Travis Lanham.
About 10-ish hours before I started writing this, Tyler, The Creator released his new album, Don’t Tap the Glass. Ten songs long, clocking in at just about 30 minutes, Tyler insisted the album was meant to be listened to while moving.
So of course I listened to it lying down.
After finishing the album, as Spotify’s algorithm queued up a song it thought I would like (“POV,” and for the record I did), I began my habitual (debilitating?) morning scroll of social media, where others opined on the album.
Tyler didn’t particularly like this.
How could one appropriately judge a piece of art, meant to be listened to over and over in a specific fashion, on one blush? How could anyone, for that matter, judge any piece of art on just one run? Don’t you need time to sit with things, to examine, to ponder before you render judgment? Just who do you think you are?
I had to chuckle.
I’ll let you in on a little secret: I get comics early to review them — usually at 3 p.m.-ish on the Monday before the Wednesday digital and print release. Within those 30ish hours, I read and reread the comic about 10-15 times to try to get my thoughts as clear and concise as possible.
Yet rarely, if ever, has any subsequent read ever changed my first impression. Sure, rereads allow me to better understand pacing decisions, or in-comic continuity, or research out-of-comic references and allusions. My favorite comics necessitate sometimes 30 reads to fully appreciate them (yes, I’ve counted).
But never has a reread made me a fan of a comic I didn’t originally like, even when I wish it did.
I read through Storm #10 once and, cognizant of Tyler’s critique mentioned above, I questioned my suppositions: Maybe this time my first impressions might change after 15 rereads. Maybe this time, spending more time with Storm will change an opinion that’s sounding less like a Tyler record and more like a broken one.
So, then, my thoughts upon the first read:
- Who is this man with locks?
- Why are we doing random garbage pickups in space for three days when there are much, much more pressing things to do on Earth (like, i don’t know, the arrest of Dazzler?)
- Why is this dialogue feeling more like something out of Deadpool?
- At least he remembered Shuri and Manifold dated, but this also feels precipitously like fan service
- Quips about anger over cutting your hair are … cute, I concede, but it sounds unlike the more regal Storm of comics past. Maybe that’s intentional, as she’s not fully in control of herself, but then again maybe it’s just trying too hard to sound cool.
- About two years ago when saving Magneto, Storm lamented putting people in prisons, only to now put people (OK, gods) in, effectively, prison. Again, is this you speaking as you, or you speaking as an avatar?
- Oh, that was Bishop with the locks? What happened to his sponge twists? Are those extensions? Are you and Storm going to the same stylist?
- If you have the means to kill the most powerful mutant on Earth from afar with a rag doll, why are you waiting to make the cut, lol. Some villain tropes never die.
- Silver Surfer Soot feels so random.
- I’m not sure if the Infinity vs. Eternity thing is working for me, and I just don’t know why.
Thoughts after the 15th read:
Ayodele is trying to do everything, everywhere, all at once, and it’s not helping anyone. In Storm #10, he wants cosmic stakes and quirky quips, epic universe-spanning battles right alongside the more intimate. There is a lot here, much of it admirable, yet not enough of it coherent. Storm’s actions seem random, not bound by the duty of her position as protector of Earth or as an Avenger; her heroism seems reductively petty, not bound by honor, but rather by anger. Her sanctuary remains ill defined, her friendships seem sparse and transactional, her pain, at least in this issue, is intangible until those friends are mercilessly (but almost certainly reversibly) harmed. This is by no means bad or unenjoyable, but by trying to balance whimsy with weight, the whole work comes off more wonky than world-beating. There is a great comic here, but Ayodele needs to pick a tone and fully commit to it, while spending just as much time developing characters as he does finding new, imaginative and entertaining ways to frame fights. Finally, while the From the Ashes era struggles as a whole with whether to make a clean break from Krakoa or serve as a continuance, it would behoove Ayodele to remember Storm’s growth and experiences can still play a role in whatever new adventures she can go on.
So I liked it; I didn’t love it. Nothing hit me or wowed me initially, though I appreciate he has a sound signature just as identifiable as his mentors and heroes. Even upon subsequent engagements, I find myself, though entertained, still unsettled, knowing that there’s more that could and should be done.
Am I talking about Tyler? Am I talking about Storm?
Reread this a few times and come to your own conclusion.
Buy Storm #10 here. (Disclaimer: As an Amazon Associate, ComicsXF may earn from qualifying purchases.)
A proud New Orleanian living in the District of Columbia, Jude Jones is a professional thinker, amateur photographer, burgeoning runner and lover of Black culture, love and life. Magneto and Cyclops (and Killmonger) were right. Learn more about Jude at SaintJudeJones.com.
