Strange Adventures #3: Femme Fatale

This issue was competently done. If the rest of the series takes its tone from this book, it will be a fine story — one probably worth revisiting. But it wouldn’t live up to the promise of the first two issues. And that would be a shame, because gumshoe noir stories, even superhero themed noir stories, are cheaper than a pack of cigarettes in 1936, and stories dissecting the politics of white colonialism and our collective whitewashing of the horrors of war are considerably rarer. Strange Adventures began as the latter, but in this issue it is rapidly devolving to a parboiled Philip Marlowe tale (complete with hard edged, sexy, vaguely evil Dames) and that is a considerable shame. 

Tom King had had some issues writing women before. At times, his Cat Woman was little more than a busty prop (certainly, she lacked any particular goals or desires of her own, outside of getting some bat-themed arial sex) and although that was troubling, at least Selina was never shoehorned into the ‘evil, manipulative bitch’ trope. This is very much the case, for Alanna. 

In this issue, we see her standing calmly by as Adam risks his life for an intergalactic power-play. We watch her using him as a pawn to win land and resources for her people. On earth,we watch her playing Superman, the media, and even managing to successfully manipulate Batman (of all people) in a bid to win sympathy, and possibly manoeuvre earth into a war which could (possibly) restore her to power. 

While it is a clever take to reimagine this perennial damsel-in-distress into a power-hungry Queen, there’s a difference between moral complexity and flat-out evil. Women (like everyone) are more complex than that old, tried virgin/whore dichotomy. If Alanna showed any real emotion, towards anything, beyond this hunger to be on top, if she were allowed to evolve a thumbnail’s span beyond her allotted bad-dame role, the story would be a thousand times better. 

King’s weaknesses are overwhelming an otherwise strong story, and that’s a shame to see.

As for the art, it is consistently good. Mitch Gerrads has a tremendous amount of skill, and all of it is on display here. The acting is absolutely superb. Doc’s colours contribute considerably to the substantial atmosphere, shifting adroitly between past and present, horror and (edited) joy. This book is, from a visual standpoint, a pleasure to read. 

Aside from some narrative oversights which drag the tale down to the merely passable, this is a deeply enjoyable read.