Immortal X-Men #7: When the Man Comes Around

I’m going to start this off by saying that Nightcrawler is my all-time favorite fictional character. I’ve loved him since I was thirteen years old, having come across an ancient copy of Uncanny X-Men #183 that someone threw into a pile of recycling, one year after my parents abandoned me. Since then, I’ve read every one of his appearances. I loved (and still love) that he met hatred, fear, and rejection (and the violence that so often accompanies that horrific trinity) with hope, heroism and love. I loved the swashbuckling, devil-may-care facade he adopts in difficult situations. I love his embrace of his faith, and the joys and weights that accompany it (at least if you are doing it right) and I love how he never stops asking questions about what is wrong and what is right. 

And I’m not going to lie, when X-Men: The Animated Series tackled Mystique’s abandonment of him, that resonated with me too. The nice thing about comics, a feature shared with every lasting art, is that they allow us to see ourselves in them. They show us to ourselves, in new and different lights. They show us who we could be, for good or for ill. This is why it’s so traumatic for some people to grow up and realize that they’ve become people their heroes would cheerfully punch in the throat. 

It’s difficult to analyze what Gillen is doing with Nightcrawler without going into spoilers. It would be a crime and a shame if I let slip something that ruined the sheer, traumatic beauty of this book. I will say that the things that he puts Nightcrawler through, in the name of saving what is left of humanity, will leave a lasting mark on who this man is, and what happens to him in the future. 

Dying once, and remembering the pain of it, is one thing. What happens when a man martyrs himself more than once? What happens when rage grows, so strong, inside of you that you can no longer use it as fuel? How far does a writer have to push a swashbuckler with the heart of a saint before he’s ready to make a deal with the devil?

The answer will come in Legion of X, and the series which is scheduled to come after. I will say that I was worried about the direction that Si Spurrier appears to be taking Nightcrawler. I still don’t believe that he has as accurate (or adequate) an understanding of who Kurt is as Gillen so obviously does. But at least this story makes a sojourn into darkness make a variety of terrible sense. I can only hope that Nightcrawler will emerge from this pit with his soul intact. 

The plotting of this issue was absolutely immaculate — one can almost hear the pieces of machinery slowly clicking into place. Destiny gets a dose of fear (as well as some of that patented Kurt Wagner gentle reassurance) to push her onto the steep and narrow path. She and Mystique get a moment to shelter in their love, before Armageddon. There are more hints about what the Krakoan resurrection process does to the body and the mind: the way it supercharges your gift and also the sacrifices it demands as a cost, all relevant Legion of X content. Sinister has his moment to glitter darkly as the world sifts to embers and Moira finds herself caught between partial redemption and utter destruction. 

It’s a packed, brutal, utterly beautiful story. 

And this story is bolstered by some absolutely tremendous art. Lucas Werneck is growing into the vast potential of his art as we watch. He balances moments of tenderness, terror, action, introspection, and terrible pain with a level of visual acuity that borders on agonizing. If the story were purely visual it would lose little of its power. The beautiful, important words embellish but do not distort the raw, throbbing heart of this story. David Curiel colors with a smoky, blood-bright palate that is utterly appropriate for the action at hand. 

This book is an astonishment: a rose seeded among dried bones. If you aren’t reading this series you are missing out.