SUPERMAN: BIRTHRIGHT
By Mark Waid, Leinil Fracis Yu and Gary Alanguilan

Maybe they should have just put Waid's words on the cover.

The tradition of satisfactorily solid (if not mind-blowing, earth-shaking and senses-shattering) superhero books being made by the current generation continues.

Case in point, the handsomely packaged (love the textured endpapers and 'dvd extras') Superman: Birthright. Yes. Superman.

I've read a lot of criticisms (both disinterested and vehement) of Superman comics from disapointment that he triggered the superhero movement in comics to boredom regarding the adventures of an omnipotent demi-god, to boredom with his 'boyscout' behavior to hyper-criticism every time his origin or the details of his milleu have changed.

So imagine my lack of surprise when Birthright's issues started hitting the shelves and the web lit up with nicknamed critics, each racing to be the first to type 'yawn' or proclaim their moral indignation over minute changes made to the spacecraft Superman arrives at Earth in.

The problem with Superman (and most superheroes) is that either no one cares what they do or people care too much; and because the people who care too much are the ones paying the bills, nothing happens in these comics to change the opinions of those who don't care.

The other problem with superheroes is their lack of stories. These characters exist in a limbo of never-ending adventures with no sense of the structures of story. Probably the most popular story in Western culture is the story of Jesus. What's the story of Jesus? Divine virgin birth and death/resurrection/ascension. Actually, they're two stories (one of birth and one of death) and people gather around twice a year to hear these two stories. The devoted get together more often to hear the smaller stories, but Christmas and Easter are the two big money days.

What do superheroes get? One story. Their origin (birth stories). They're the most popular, the ones everybody knows, the ones that get repeated in miniseries after miniseries, tv show after tv show, cartoon after cartoon, movie after movie. And the devoted gather round once a week to read the other, smaller adventures. It's like Christianity without Easter. Judiasm without Hanukah.

So, with only one important story to his name, Superman has his told once again by Mark Waid and Yu. It's the only Superman story worth telling. It is a good story, however, and in the right hands, it can be quite enjoyable (especially when a couple of twists are thrown in to keep the details from getting too predictable).

So, here we go again, here's the unstable Krypton, the rocket ship big enough for only a baby (Waid tries to explain it as off-handedly as possible since it's part of the trappings, but it never really made sense), the Kents, Smallville, Lex Luthor and his balding experiment, Lana Lang, Lois Lane, Perry White, Jimmy Olsen, Kryptonite, the historical record of Krypton, etc. etc.

No, HERE'S the unstable Krypton.

What's new are Luthor's Kryptonian invasion scheme, Ma Kent's UFO obsession and, most importantly: a reason why the most powerful man in the world would dress up like a clown ballerina. That's really the key, and Waid manages to tie post-colonial African politics, Cold War/War on Terror neighbor-phobia and cultural identity politics into the decision. By the time Superman starts doubting himself about it all, his world seems more ridiculous without the red and blue stripes.

Waid's characterzations are strong and the supporting characters are all distinct, recognizable and more interesting than ever before. Sort of the way you hope old friends will be when you meet them for drinks after a few years apart.

Not everything goes well in this book however. The art by Yu is all over the place. He seems to get tired of Superman's world about halfway through and suddenly things get consistenly dark, jagged, and proportions and backgrounds seem to defy the rules he sets in the begining of the book. Superman goes from attractive young man to muscle-bound, jaw-jutter when he arrives in Metropolis even though little time seems to have passed. At one point, a crowd of people, inspired by the message of hope Superman provides decides to fight back against Metropolis' enemies, are depicted almost as vampire zombies.

Without a Superman, who will save us from the giant robot spiders?
Will Smith? Kool Mo Dee? Escape Club? Anybody?

In some places, the art is very nice, particularly in Smallville and Ghanna, and Lois never fell off a building so nicely. When the art is nicest, though, it is at it's most indistinct and when the artist's stylizations come to the fore, it becomes a strange mix of the weaknesses sometimes exhibited by Jim Lee and Ted McKeever (different strengths, same Kryptonite).

But, this isn't an art book, this is a story book (in superhero comics, it's easier to distinguish between the two) and the storytelling is pretty top notch. It's a solid retelling of the Superman story. One that will unfortunately probably never be bookended with "that other great Superman story."

—Justin J. Fox