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I’m not sure of his prospects for success in this endeavor, given what’s ahead is, unbelievably, Knull and void. “I will not be devoured by the black,” Norrin says early on. And when Cates brings the Surfer to his first stop on this journey, he presents to us the series’ big hook: The consequences that come from pushing back against limitless dark.
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An effective pursuit that should yield nigh-limitless storytelling wealth, given the art team. (He succeeds, astoundingly.) It’s a fitting visual Cates intends to put Norrin through a spiritual wringer by distilling the character down into his purest, most recognizable forms, those being an agent of darkness and a beacon of light. In this sequence Moore scrambles the Surfer into crushed aluminum foil and leaves Stewart to find the figure’s dimensions. The opening calamity sends Norrin Radd tumbling through endless vacuum, broken and alone, for untold amounts of time. Here, Moore’s expressions run the gamut: placid, passive, pensive, pained. The panels underneath this bit show the Surfer weeping at those memories, speeding as fast as he can through the pitch-black yawn of despair towards giving a damn about this universe and its many living things.
#Silver surfer 13 review series#
There Moore and Dave Stewart, the series colorist, bring shifting, satanic form to what a Devourer of Worlds might look like in myth and nightmare, and underscore with thick crimson lines how far Norrin Radd has come in the eons since: Galactus feasted unrelentingly upon a parade of planets and his subservient herald, beautiful and beaming, did nothing as it happened. It’s still an important sequence for Silver Surfer: Black, a “hero for all heroes” moment there to contrast the aloof visage of the Surfer staring above the celestial horrors we saw in the issue’s preceding pages.
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(The issue’s ending provides a far more indulgent example of Cates roping all his inter-company ambitions together, though what it means for the overall quality of this mini-series remains to be seen.) This sequence is astonishing to behold-Cosmic Ghost Rider’s chains dancing around Stormbreaker as it hurled a succession of oddballs through a “tachyonic maelstrom” was especially gobsmacking-even if it saddles this mini-series’ prologue pages with continuity baggage it doesn’t necessarily need. So the opening pages of Black find the Surfer catapulting many of these disparate characters in Marvel’s menagerie towards their spin-off destinies in other books. Where are we? Well, between the panels of January’s Guardians of the Galaxy #1 it looks like, just after Thanos’ Black Order sent a horde of cosmic do-gooders and anti-demigods through a tear in the space-time fabric and just before Beta Ray Bill pulled most of them out the other end.
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But in comics such as Silver Surfer: Black, it takes an omega-level talent like Tradd Moore to hurl us over the precipice of an idea, leaving us shouting back our gratitude as the work swallows us whole. Fascinating stuff for a cosmic superhero story, rich with Starlin-level promise. Some concepts, such as the unique despair that follows a lifetime of doing the wrong thing, are tangible in the form of ponderous captions. There are ideas and concepts in here, nestled deep in the chasms between the book’s candy-colored spectacle and expansive voids, and Cates nudges us and the Surfer towards them. Norrin Radd (the eponymous Surfer) and Donny Cates, it seems, are kindred spirits, and in Silver Surfer: Black they are fellow travelers, pulled along by an unyielding need to explore the reaches of unfettered imagination, brave even in the face of existential terror. It’s written by Donny Cates, still the new kid on the block, seeking purchase on the next level of an increasingly steep Marvel summit, chasing his muse to ambitious ends. Silver Surfer: Black is about a man-a gleaming hood ornament atop a righteous surfboard, perhaps, but still a man-attempting to quite literally find his place in the universe. Art: Tradd Moore, Dave Stewart/Marvelīy Jarrod Jones.