The Immortal Iron Fist: 27 Issues of Awesome

Introduced in 1974, Danny Rand, or Iron Fist as he is more commonly known, is a product of the kung-fu boom of the 1970's, and similar to most practitioners of the deadly arts, Iron Fist made a name for himself with his fists and feet, and little else. A few flashes of originality aside, due mostly to the failure to recognize the potential of the character and a series of mediocre reboots and team-ups, mostly with Luke Cage, Iron Fist was relegated to Marvel's C-List along with characters such as Moon Knight and Doctor Strange, who, I might add, have recently enjoyed some critical success.

Fast forward to 2006.

Now, I must admit, while I am a huge Ed Brubaker fan and, at the time, was impressed with this Matt Fraction guy, who is presently kicking all kinds of ass on The Invincible Iron Man (buy this book now) and will kick even more ass when he picks up Thor, I scoffed at the idea of resurrecting Iron Fist. To date, the Iron Fist canon was as paper thin as the character himself. How could these two scribes, as awesome as they are, hope to breath life into Danny Rand and get me to spend my hard earned four bucks? Really, why should I care?

Shame on me.

From the get go, the Immortal Iron Fist rocked me like a cross-kick to the nuts, but in a really good way. Brubaker and Fraction leapt out of the gate with fourteen rock-solid issues that delved deep into Iron Fist lore (more on that later) and breathed new life into the character. Duane Swierczynski and Travel Foreman handled the rest of the series, starting at issue #17 and concluding with #27, and, to me, did an admirable job of picking up where Brubaker and Fraction left off. The cancellation of Iron Fist, which is a fucking tragedy, is what motivated me to write the fairly straight forward piece that follows. Although I am more than happy to plunk down a chunk of my hard earned cash on multiple regular Marvel titles, Iron Fist was a breath of fresh air as it deviated ever so slightly from the regular trappings of the Marvel U., while remaining faithful to the source material and the publisher's established tone. This post is a chance for me to provide my reader with a retrospective of one of my favorite books that just so happened to bite the dust. Without further ado, below is a reader-friendly conspectus of everything that made The Immortal Iron Fist great.

Art

When it comes to discussing comic book art, I really can't offer much in terms of thorough criticism. Simply put, I like comic art or I don't. Sometimes, just sometimes, I think some comic art is ok and can stomach it for as long as I need to. That's really all I have to say about art.

That said, comics are a visual medium, so art needs to be addressed in some capacity, so I will speak briefly of Iron Fist's primary pencilers before moving on to the more essential nuts and bolts of the series.

While The Immortal Iron Fist has played host to more than a few collaborating artists, David Aja and Travel Foreman handled the bulk of the penciling chores for the series and presented readers with two very unique styles. A relative new comer to the comic book business, David Aja took the scene by storm with his simple, expressive style that worked well with the Iron Fist character, who vacillates between kung fu posturing and kung fu kicking ass. Personally, I found Aja's work to be pretty good. While his work does not exactly pop of the page, Aja's pencils are functional and unobtrusive, and remained faithful to Brubaker and Fraction's vision. I never like to conclude with a side note, but it's worth mentioning that Aja's cover work on the series is especially stunning.





Travel Foreman's art, on the other hand, is much harder to get used to, but, in my humble opinion, awesome and perfectly suited for Iron Fist. I'm no critic, but, to me, Foreman's art and panel layout, which I can only describe as abstract and oddly kinetic, resonated more with me as a reader as it successfully conveyed the sometimes frantic pace and weird elements, of which there are plenty, of the series.



Story

Ok. Here's where the book starts getting really cool, for, although Iron Fist is most certainly a superhero, The Immortal Iron Fist is not exactly a superhero book, in the traditional sense, at least. If Bruce Lee and John Carpenter had a bastard love-child that was breast fed from a boob filled with steroids, it would be The Immortal Iron Fist. To explain, The Immortal Iron Fist is a crazy amalgamation of the best parts of the Kung Fu genre and traditional Marvel superhero books. Throw in a dash of horror and the supernatural, and you got yourself a hell of a book that is not bound to any one genre.

Without spoiling anything, below is a breakdown and synopisis of the essential arcs that make up the twenty-seven issues. I recommend purchasing The Immortal Iron Fist Omnibus, a four pound beast of a book that collects issues #1-16 and some additional supplementary pieces, and The Immortal Iron Fist volumes 4 and 5, which, unfortunately, will probably never be collected in a single volume, but I will get to that at the end of this post.

The Last Iron Fist Story (#1-6): Danny Rand meets Orson Randall, his opium addicted predecessor. Danny and Orson find themselves in a race against HYDRA and the Steel Serpent for the the Book of the Iron Fist, a tome that will provide Danny with the martial arts skills he needs to compete in and win the Tournament of the Seven Champions. Somebody actually gets his head punched off in this arc. He does not survive.

The Seven Capital Cities of Heaven (#8-14): Danny Rand is summoned to compete in the Tournament of the Seven Champion, a kung fu tournament that takes place on a mystical plane of existence, but finds himself torn between his duties to K'un Lun and his master Lei Kung (aka Thunderer), and foiling a HYDRA plot to destroy K'un Lun with the biggest missile ever.

The Mortal Iron Fist (#17-20): On the eve of his 33rd birthday, Danny Rand learns that all previous Iron Fists, with the exception of Orson Randall, whose chi was made undetectable by his opium addiction, have died at the age of 33. Danny must battle a seemingly invincible foe and Iron Fist assassin, Zhou Cheng, or die a horrible death. Story-wise, this is the weakest story arc of the series; it's still pretty good, though.

Escape from the Eighth City (#21-27): Danny and the Immortal Weapons embark on a mission to rescue innocent prisoners from the mysterious Eighth City of Heaven, which, for lack of a better description, is hell filled with demons that know kung fu. Danny and the Immortal Weapons are defeated and thrown in prison where Danny meets the first Iron Fist.

Supporting Cast

In spite of all his awesomeness, Iron Fist, like many other characters, is only as good as his supporting cast. While Colleen Wing, Luke Cage and Misty Knight fill in the required, yet quirky, supporting samurai, bad-ass best buddy and cyborg love interest roles, the richness of Iron Fist's supporting cast is in the Immortal Weapons. Like Iron Fist, the Immortal Weapons are both protectors of and champions of their respective City of Heaven. During the Tournament of the Seven Champions, Iron Fist was pitted against the other Weapons in deadly combat but, since then, allied with them, with the exception of Davos, in order to battle HYDRA and a shit ton of demons. Below is a brief description of the Immortal Weapons.



Fat Cobra: A supernaturally agile sumo wrestler. Works hard, plays harder (his wenches lust for him and he happily obliges). Focuses his chi into weather based, namely lightning and wind, attacks. Beats the crap out of Iron Fist without breaking a sweat.

Bride of Nine Spiders: Attacks her opponents with about a million spiders that burst from her chest. Spiders are creepy. Spiders bursting from a woman's chest is fucking rad.

Dog Brother #1: A peerless swordsman who fights with a supernatural dog pack. He is believed to be the protector of the lost, orphaned, and other exiles and unfortunates.

Tiger's Beautiful Daughter: A beautiful and fearless warrior who wields razor sharp fans. Severs Steel Phoenix's hand in the Tournament of the Seven Champions.

Prince of Orphans: The most powerful of the Immortal Weapons. Prince of Orphans has seen many battles and is very wise. More importantly, he can turn into mist and kick your ass.

Steel Phoenix (aka Steel Serpent; aka Davos): Iron Fist's archenemy. Beefs up his chi by drawing power from the evil Crane Mother and her daughters.

Before the cancellation of Iron Fist, the Immortal Weapons were featured in their own mini-series, which, from my understanding, is worth reading.

Legacy

To me, the greatest stroke of genius in the Immortal Iron Fist was perhaps the simplest - backstory. Brubaker and Fraction added near infinite depth to Iron Fist by creating a dynasty of successive heritors of the Iron Fist mantle. Not only did this help flesh out the book with some much needed kung fu mythology, but the Iron Fist history allowed for Brubaker, Fraction and Swierczynski to introduce multiple Iron Fists, most notably Orson Randall, the WWI-era Iron Fist who channels his chi through a pair of Smith & Wesson pistols, and who plays a significant role throughout the series.



Other Iron Fists, though not featured as prominently as Orson Randall, are introduced in the book either in flashbacks or, in some cases, in stand-alone issues. The concept of past and future Iron Fists playing a roll in the series is an interesting one as the Iron Fist mantle passes from person to person, throughout history and leaves writers with a character that has limitless depth and potential. Personally, as much as I like Danny Rand, I was looking forward to seeing more of the past and future Iron Fists.

The winds of change smell like fart

Sadly, for the foreseeable future, there will be no stories featuring Danny Rand or wild west Iron Fist or an Iron Fist who fights robot ninjas as The Immortal Iron Fist wrapped with issue #27 and the Immortal Weapons mini-series. The cancellation of the series coincides with Marvel prepping to usher in a new, universe-changing initiative, The Heroic Age, an age defined by hope and optimism. For me, the jury's still out on Marvel's shift in tone. How can a universe comprised almost entirely of anti-heroes who thrive under adverse conditions flourish in this bright and shiny era? I am cautiously optimistic but, deep down, look forward to the shit hitting the fan again and getting back to the Marvel I love.

The Heroic Age Avengers... Maybe it's just me, but Iron man looks like he's taking a dump; a dump filled with heroic optimism, but, nevertheless, a dump.


In any case, while Luke Cage can lead the Heroic Age Thunderbolts to failure (for the uninitiated, Luke Cage is dumb), and occupies the requisite ethnic roster spot on the New Avengers, there seems to be no room in the Heroic Age for Iron Fist and his sweet kung fu action. Observe the new Avengers line-up:



Ok, so the Avengers can extend a membership offer to Gorilla-Man, who is basically a gun-toting Beast (wait, he's an Avenger too!) but not as strong and supposedly immortal. I love firearm wielding monkeys as much as the next guy but the Avengers, as you see them here, already have plenty of muscle. Ditch the monkey, or even better, Thing, and get Iron Fist on that roster.

Marvel apparently has other plans for Danny Rand.

Presently, internet rumors indicate that Iron Fist will reunite with Luke Cage in a brand spanking new Heroes for Hire book.

Yay...

Heroes for Hire first appeared in 1978 and, over the course of 30 or so years suffered a series of reboots and cancellations that culminated in, well, nothing important. Rebooting a Marvel title that was fairly lame and has a history of failure is, in my opinion, nothing more than a vain attempt to tap into fanboy nostalgia. Despite my previous reticence with regard to the Heroic Age, I feel more than comfortable weighing in on the prospect of seeing a slap-stick, jive-talking, band of merry men re-revival of a character who needs more love - it sucks, and not in a good way.

Will I buy it? Probably. Like any good train wreck, my own morbid curiosity will undoubtedly compel me to purchase this book. Call me a glutton for punishment but my doubt needs some concrete satisfaction.

Should you buy it?

Naw. See how the Heroic Age pans out. Better Iron Fist stories have already been written and await your perusal.

The Indomitable Ferret?

Normally, when an incendiary topic such as this is brought up, say, on a blog, the author has to develop pretentious reasoning such as, "I've been collecting comics for twenty-plus years, what the fuck do you know?" or "I gave Wolverine a fare shake but can't stand his stupid face", to justify the words that follow.

I'm not going to do that. I'm not that kind of guy.

However, inspired by my previous mention of the character, I'm going to strip Marvel's most famous mutant down to the crap that makes him tick and reveal the rationale behind my growing dislike of the character.

1. Wolverine is an overexposed aggregate of cliches.
Before getting into the undercurrent of this ridiculous piece of art, let's take a moment to address the obvious - Wolverine's costume. To me, the quintessential element of all great superhero costumes is functionality that facilitates a hero's approach to fighting the forces of evil. For example, Batman's paramilitary ninja garb is a composite of his unique brand of vigilantism and necessary theatricality. Conversely, Spiderman's minimalist spandex ensemble allows him to cruise the NYC skyline with ease and get the drop on foes from above without being hindered by utility belts, capes, gadgets, etc. Now, considering the importance of functionality, let's turn our attention to Wolverine.

Hmmmm.

A quick Wikipedia search reveals that the wolverine "has a reputation for ferocity and strength out of proportion to its size, with the documented ability to kill prey many times its size".

Sweet.

Sadly, Wolverine's costume does little to conjure up the image of his furry, ill-tempered, Nordic dwelling namesake (also from Wikipedia). Rather, Wolverine's Guess jeans (Falcon cut), tastefully "wrecked" tank top, and cowboy hat are essential components of another, unfortunately impractical, laughable costume - "The French Canadian Tuxedo". Briefly, the "French Canadian Tuxedo" is a multi-functional outfit worn by French Canadian men between the ages of 18-65, and is suitable for events ranging from line dancing at "la cabane a sucre" (Maple Sugar Shack) to weddings and funerals. While this outfit can be praised for its infinite variety, it should be noted that it provides its wearer with little to no mobility and protection from the elements. With this knowledge, one cannot help but wonder how a mutant who specializes in close-quarter combat can hope to be successful in his plight against the forces of evil. Sure, his butt might look great, but is that really the point? Moreover, Wolverine's appearance does little to strike fear in his opponent(s) or inspire confidence in his comrades and/or civilians like me. I don't know about you, but if I was tied to a bomb or found myself being held at gun point, I wouldn't want the lost Village Person coming to my rescue, adamantium claws or not.

Wolverine's appearance presents us with an opportunity to delve deeper into his character by exploring the hushed (not really) emotional undercurrent that defines him.

-The Badass: Wolverine is the perfect example of the man's man. He does what he wants when he wants. The Badass rides a motorcycle, drinks beer, smokes, and calls it like it is. "Subterfuge" is not in the Badass' vocabulary as he is direct and awesome like a punch in the face, which he is a master of. Unfortunately, the qualities that define the Badass also lead his downfall. To explain, due to this straight forward nature, the Badass works best in small doses as there is nothing to him beyond what can be gleaned in five minutes. Unfortunately, as a character, the Badass is woefully overused, which, in the case of Wolverine has resulted in the production of rehash after rehash of the same story.

To further pursue the notion of the ruin of a character through overexposure, let's observe a Badass analogy: Wolverine vs. Charles Bronson.

Wolverine was first introduced in 1974 and has been a mainstay in comics since the publication of Giant Size X-Men #1 (1975). You do the math.

"Death Wish", also released in 1974, is a film about a Badass who becomes a Badass by indiscriminately killing criminals, which is Badass. The running time for "Death Wish" is 93 minutes, which, in my estimation, is the perfect amount of time for a Badass to occupy my attention without getting bored, which is also Badass.

Let's say the "Death Wish" running time of 93 minutes was extended by 36 years, would you still care? I don't think so. Would you get tired and bored? Hell yes.

Nevertheless, and this much is obvious, so I won't dwell on it, the Badass, although cool, is as uninspired and overused as it gets. The typical story arc of a plot featuring a Badass typically goes as follows:

1. Exposition: Badass is introduced in Badass way.
2. Complication: Badass' life is complicated.
3. Rising Action: Badass gets involved in a Badass way.
4. Climax: Badass must prove why he is a Badass.
5. Falling Action: Badass relaxes like a Badass.
6. Denouement: Badass ties up loose ends. No French is spoken because French is not Badass.

Since his introduction, all Wolverine stories have panned out similarly and culminate in the fact that Wolverine stories are as predictable as anything else out there, mostly due to the one-dimensional nature and overexposure of the character.

It should be noted that Badass serves as an umbrella to many other tired cliches that are worth listing (but not discussing) as they simultaneously make up Wolverine. These cliches consist of the following:

1. The jaded, rejected lover. (yawn)
2. The lone gunslinger. (ugh)
3. The wandering, masterless samurai, or Ronin. (sheesh)
4. The tough guy with the heart of gold. (yeah)

With all this being said, the question remains: Why has Marvel failed to manage Wolverine's time and make him way cooler by limiting his appearances?

The answer is simple: everyone wants to be Wolverine.

2. Deep down everyone wants to be Wolverine and must be indulged on some level (The Vicious Circle).
Over the years, Wolverine has drawn an interesting crowd who, despite their good intentions, have diluted the impact of the character while directly influencing his overexposure.

Observe the Vicious Circle:

1. Wolverine does something Badass (i.e. Wolverine goes ape-shit and guts the ninja who killed his girlfriend. Again.)
2. Wolverine Fanboy reacts (i.e. "Wolverine is Badass. I like Badasses. I will support and emulate Wolverine and, in turn, will become a Badass")
3. Marvel observes Fanboy reactions to Wolverine and publishes more comics featuring Wolverine*, thus overexposing him and ruining him.
*Wolverine is currently featured in a whopping six books, not counting Avengers and Marvel "event" books.
4. Repeat (see #1)

Propagation of Wolverine is entirely dependent on this quasi-Socratic, positive feedback loop which, if you are familiar with behavioral psychology, can only be broken through harsh means and will result in a lot of angry nerds. The sad irony of all this is that Wolverine's destiny is bound to those who present the antithesis to all that he is.

3. Wolverine is invincible. Invincible is dumb.
Knowing that Wolverine has survived getting torn in half, not to mention much worse, has evoked repeated "This is so fucking stupid" responses from me. Due either to his healing factor or iron will, Wolverine simply cannot die.

Being invincible is bad and here's why.

Wolverine presents Marvel writers with the same problem Superman presents the scribes over at DC: How to challenge someone who cannot die.

As awesome and shocking as it is to see someone get torn asunder, it has zero impact if that person can get up and put themselves back together. Knowing this, I have to ask what the point of the fight was altogether. Rather than waste page space telling a story we've read time and time again, storytellers need to move beyond inflicting gruesome, meaningless injuries on Wolverine.

Seriously. Give the guy a break.

Rather than publish 6 issues of predictability, save the paper and write a single issue featuring an original challenge for the protagonist: Wolverine vs. Hulk Jenga Tournament (Best of 5).

I would read this. Really.

By removing the invincibility of both characters from the equation, we can behold the quiet test of two heavyweight's manual dexterity, reflexes and fortitude - a worthier conflict than a to-the-death (not really) rumble in the forest that was originally published in Hulk #180-2 (1974).

My Concession.

I feel it is fitting to end my post with a concession. While I admit to not liking Wolverine to the point where I spent an entire Saturday writing about him, I will grant you this much:

There are great Wolverine stories out there; the very recent, 8-issue mini-series "Old Man Logan" proves this.

Without spoiling the story, I will simply praise Mark Millar for taking Wolverine in a completely original direction. Millar's execution of this great yarn was reliant on a singular device: take the Badass out of Wolverine and make him human. What follows is a character-driven race through a post-apocalyptic Marvel landscape that reveals the true potential and vulnerability of Wolverine, which is something we can all relate to and something writers should get back to.

Am I not merciful!?

I've been reading comics for as long as I can remember and have been collecting them longer than I'd care to admit to most people. Comics, for me, are as therapeutic as a long walk with my dog, and not nearly half the trouble, and are a wholly unique brand of literature that I've been studying for some time and will no doubt discuss in depth as I continue to write this blog.

While I can't draw anything beyond stick figures having sex, I've always been intrigued by the composition of comic panels and the arrangement of static images to tell a story. Splash pages, or one page panels, are an especially interesting literary device as they slow the story and force the reader to pause and take everything in. Further, splash pages are a chance for artists to showcase their talents and add an exclamation mark to a story with an iconic (hopefully) interpretation of characters/essential plot elements. My first actual post deals with the subject of the iconic comic poses that have come to define the comic characters and moments we love (yes, you love comics too). For this first of a semi-regular series of blog posts, I've selected the ever popular image of the slumped and brooding monarch and/or villain.

Reminiscent of Rodin's "Le Penseur", this meditative image of a would be world conqueror has been a mainstay in sequential art for some time as it often serves as a signal to readers that shit is about to go down in a big kind of way. For example, while Robert E. Howard's Conan the Barbarian (perhaps the first character to be drawn brooding on his throne) capped off his ascendancy to the Aquilonian throne with this awesome, contemplative pose, effectively ending his epic rise to the kingship, we know that the real story is just beginning and that more heads are about to roll.

The success of this sweet image is reliant on the absent-minded yet determined scowl that says, "my ennui and melancholy are only outweighed by my unbounded rage against things that suck". While I did not read Ultimatum (mostly because Jeph Loeb can't write Marvel characters, but that's another post for another time), David Finch drew an excellent teaser of Ultimate Magneto channeling his inner Cimmerian as he prepares to kick the Ultimate Marvel U's collective ass. Finch's artwork extends the awesomeness of the original King Conan pose with the inclusion of two small, but decidedly cool, accents - Thor's hammer, Mjolnir, and an Old Testament inspired epigraph that, in short, makes it very apparent that Magneto is more powerful than the Norse and Christian Gods, and that he's about to get biblical.

That said, follow-through is especially important to the overall impact of the pose. Sadly, while Magneto did deliver the goods by leveling a good chunk of the Ultimate Marvel U. and killing off a bunch of characters, he was eventually killed by the lamest X-Man after Wolverine - Cyclops, who in turn was thankfully shot in the head by Quicksilver. The notion of justice aside, this, to me at least, negates all the devastation Magneto wrought and the power of the pose itself. Based on this, one can only come to the conclusion that while intelligent, willful and all-powerful, Magneto was in sore need something extra to push him over the top and achieve ultimate success - a whole lot of crazy.

Allow me to present Tetsuo.


Holy shit.
This is how the pose should be executed.

For those uninitiated into the world of "Akira", Otomo's Tetsuo is a Japanese kid who accidentally acquires telekinetic and other powers and achieves what can best be described as godhood at the cost of his mind and body, a whole lot of people, and Tokyo. Power-wise, both Magneto and Tetsuo are on the same level and are similarly disillusioned in their quest for power. That said, the key difference between both characters and the reason Tetsuo shuffled off this mortal coil and achieved omnipotence is because he, mostly due to the side effects of his rapidly evolving and uncontrollable powers, is bat-shit insane and perfectly willing to take all of Neo Tokyo, including his friends, down with him. Call me morbid, but this is a hell of an accomplishment for a high school student.

Ok. Before I ramble on any further, I'm going to stop myself, switch gears, and broaden my discussion to the potential real world applications and benefits of this iconic pose.

Consider the following:

1. You are (mostly) in control of your facial muscles.
2. You own a chair and are in possession of furniture and accessories that will allow you to create a throne room of sorts.
3. Sometimes, just sometimes, you think you might be crazy and/or in possession of super powers.
4. You want something that you're just not getting; for the sake of argument, let's say a glass of water from your significant other.

Given the fact that all of the above apply to you, it's time to get yourself that glass of water.

Inspiration is 99% perspiration, so you have to do a bit of leg work before achieving victory. First, practice scowling in the mirror every day for about a week. A brooding, melancholic gaze into nothing is key. You want to look as though your attention is divided between the person from whom you are demanding the water and more important secret schemes. Second, set up your "throne room" so it looks menacing and regal at the same time. Focusing on atmosphere without drawing attention away from yourself is paramount to success. Finally, and most importantly, get ready to let yourself off the chain, like a God. Like Ares, you too are the blood-soaked bane of mortal men and indiscriminate slaughter makes you thirsty.

Achieving something similar to the below is desirable but not required.



Now it is time to put your plan into action. Be sure to check your mood as you progress through these steps.

1. Seat yourself in throne room. (Mood Check: Calm, Brooding)
2. Summon your significant other. (Mood Check: Arrogant, Simmering)
3. Demand a nice, cool glass of water. (Mood Check: Arrogant, Seething)
3.1 A submissive "Yes" gets you the water and victory. Mission accomplished. (Mood Check: Calm, Brooding. See step 1)
4. Respond to all other replies, even a defiant "Yes" (you be the judge), with the appropriate rhetoric or passage from the Book of Revelations (ie. AM I NOT MERCIFUL!? or
"Babylon the great is fallen, is fallen, and is become the habitation of devils, and the hold of every foul spirit, and a cage of every unclean and hateful bird").
Remember, making complete sense is not a requisite - just make sure you sound cool. Be creative (Mood Check: Unbounded, Raging)
4.1 Repeat step 4 until desired effect is achieved.

Enjoy the water. You deserve it.

Ahoy!

I'm going to keep my inaugural post short and sweet.

My creative self is an aggregate of lumpy, partially formed ideas that are in desperate need of an outlet. Until now, I've been content to pour out my mind onto scraps of paper, napkins and back of my hand. However, at the suggestion of a friend, I've decided to make an attempt at establishing some order to my right brain and (self) publish the product of my misfiring synapses and shifty grey matter.

So, in short, this blog is a home for all the unformed, random creative thoughts and opinions that emerge from the ether. Much like its namesake, this blog presents me with the prospect of an awesome carefree journey without a destination or purpose.