Steelworks #1: John Henry Irons, Ordinary Man

John Henry Irons wants to change Metropolis. And Steelworks #1 makes it sound like he can pull it off. But if he’s going to do it, he’s going to do it without the Supers. Michael Dorn displays no shortage of ambition in his first comic book.

Steelworks #1 is a lot of setup, but in this case that’s not a bad thing. John Henry Irons is determined to improve life in Metropolis, and thanks to an energy source Superman brought back from Warworld, he thinks he can. The issue opens with him giving a press conference that goes on, via caption boxes and television dialogue bubbles, for seven pages. The visuals that correspond to it start out downtown before transitioning into Suicide Slum. In his speech, Irons talks about forcefield technology and unlimited energy. What he doesn’t talk about–what he only brings up with his niece Natasha–is his hope to lift up the people of Metropolis such that they don’t look to the Supers for everything. Meanwhile, a man of obvious means named Charles Walker III recruits a down on his luck, drunken widower named Kerry in a bid to create a super of his own that can go up against Steel.

The idea of ordinary people needing to learn how to not rely on superheroes (either by choice or necessity) isn’t a new one. But in Steelworks #1 Dorn ties it subtly to ideas of stagnation, the nature of helping others, and class structure. The argument that the Supers lead to stagnation is made quickly and more from inference and simile than explicitly. When Natasha does push back on Irons’ idea, Irons points out that her argument is similar to that made about higher math when advanced calculators and computers were developed. What was meant to be helpful became relied upon until more and more people stopped learning and doing math for themselves–in the same way the people of Metropolis rely on the Supers first and their own industriousness second.

Connected to this idea of stagnation is how Irons sees the Supers’ actions. He realizes that it isn’t enough to fly in, solve the big problem, and fly out. Helping people sometimes requires extended commitments. So instead of just getting that immediate help from Supers that still leaves chaos in its wake, Irons wants to provide more comprehensive aid by reminding people how to help each other when in need.

The class ideas that Steelworks #1 brings up are the most complex notions in the book and less about Irons’ plans than about how he relates to the very people he’s trying to help. There’s no indication that this is motivated by anything other than altruism. But there is a touch of arrogance at work. As Irons puts it:

“I have to be the one to show Metropolis that it can be done. That a regular person can do this.”

While it’s true that Irons was a regular person and built himself up over time, he’s no longer seen as a regular person by everyone. This is made evident by intercutting Kerry’s scenes with Irons’, juxtaposing the characters’ situations. Irons has an ambitious, flashy press conference. Kerry drunkenly mourns his dead wife. Eventually we learn that Kerry’s wife died after he lost his insurance and job at Amertek. Kerry blames Steel and his company. While Kerry is definitely being manipulated by Walker who has his own agenda, his feelings are legitimate and a nice reminder that these matters are far more complex than we often think about.

Steelworks #1 features very little action. This is a comic book about emotions, and Basri is an outstanding choice for this. Irons, his niece Natasha, and the love of his life Lana Lang, radiate a lot of happiness. Irons’ press conference goes well, and Irons has a lot to be happy for. Lana is thrilled just watching the press conference, and when she visits Irons afterward their enthusiasm is infectious. There is also one panel in particular, when Lana asks Irons how he thinks the Supers will take to his idea, when Basri draws Irons giving one of the best side-eyes in comic books. It’s a wonderfully mischievous look.

Basri’s work proves even more effective with Kerry who is a broken man. When we first see him he is angry, his expressions pained and hateful. In the succeeding panels his look doesn’t change. Kerry is a furious man, and we don’t know why. That anger returns late in the issue as well. But by then we’ve seen what lurks underneath, and it’s clear that Kerry’s anger is what holds him together. But there is one panel that breaks up Kerry’s anger. It takes place roughly two thirds into the book. Basri draws Kerry leaning against a tombstone. He is a defeated man. For one panel, Basri tosses out everything we have seen and will see about Kerry and reveals the vulnerability at his heart. Dorn writes virtually no dialogue for this moment, so it’s up to Basri to provide something memorable that will stick with the reader even when Kerry’s anger returns.

Dalhouse’s colors and Leigh’s letters don’t do a lot here. In Steelworks #1, they are the definition of helping by not hurting. Dalhouse creates a bright Metropolis and doesn’t try to do anything clever such as with the intercuts between Irons and Kerry. Leigh’s biggest contribution is the uneven but still rounded and somewhat flowy dialogue bubbles that clue us in on Kerry’s inebriation even as Basri keeps that anger flowing.